Just Fall

Chapter Two

Gina grabbed two boxes and hauled them out to the living room. She set them on top of the covered furniture that was due to be picked up by a consignment company. With a huff, she wiped her forehead. "Phew! I don't know what the hell you have in that one, but I thought my arms were gonna fall right off!"

Diane sat on the floor, wrapping glasses. She shrugged. "I believe it's Christian's bottle cap collection."

"Huh? Bottle caps? You mean to tell me there's fifty fucking pounds of bottle caps in there?"

Again, Diane shrugged. "He's been collecting them since he was a kid. No two are alike."

Gina wiped her brow. "That's dedication."

Diane put the last of the wine glasses in the box and closed it up. "Yeah," she replied, remincising. No one could say that Christian didn't always dive into whatever pleased him. "He was planning on using one of the walls of his mancave to put all of them up."

"Is this going with you?"

Diane looked at the box. One of many that were labeled Christian's things and piled in the corner near the front door. Part of her expected him to come down the stairs and renegotiate their terms for him keeping so much shit in the house. Whereas she kept only a few mementos over the years, her eccentric husband never could seem to throw anything away. It didn't seem fair to abandon her husband's stuff when he couldn't negotiate new terms. It was wrong. "It's going in storage with the exception of those marked in red marker. His folks will collect those." she went back to packing.

"How's Rob and Sheila?" she asked referring to the given names of Christian's parents.

Diana shrugged, unenthused. "I guess as well as they could considering. They lost their only son."

Gina stopped to watch her on the floor, charging on like a little worker bee. She missed the funny, energetic Diane, but she also knew it was inappropriate to ask her friend to cheer up. It was only two months since Christian passed away, and still so painfully raw for Diane. Christian was the love of her life, knew each other since high school and shared so much together. Both were such sweethearts and it made her so angry and helpless that one day Christian was here one moment and one moment gone. The only condolences she had was that he didn't suffer in the car crash and the drunk driver who struck him was getting her just desserts. None of that mattered to Diane, though, who appeared to have given up on everything that reminded her of the love she lost.

"You sure you really wanna move, Dee? You really love this house. I mean you couldn't stop talking about it for a whole six months. You begged Christian to send me photos of it the day you closed."

"No. I used to love it here, but--" her voice trailed off as she remembered Christian adjusting his tie at the breakfast counter. His coffee in his favorite blue mug, just awaiting him to spill on his feet so he could make a mess and swear. She caught herself almost smiling, for a moment, oblivious to her own grief. Then she finally blinked and saw nothing but empty cabinets and void counter. A shell. Nothing more. "But I don't anymore. Besides, the mortgage is a bit steep now."

Gina sat beside her, putting her hand on her shoulder. "We can find a way."

"I don't wanna talk about it anymore." Diane got up and went to the kitchen. Yanking the drawers open, she grabbed handfuls of silverware and threw them into the various boxes on the counter. "No one would wanna stay here. This empty home. Look at it. It's a fucking shell. I don't know what I saw in this place." She raked fingers through her head, anger gripping her bones. "Wait, I know what's missing. I'm missing his fucking shoes that always seemed to trip me. His half-eaten bowl of cereal on the counter because he never finished a whole bowl his entire life. His clothes on the bed." Her voice cracked with longing. "His scent on my sheets. This house is missing my fucking husband! It's empty and cold and lonely. And I'm just so pissed I could punch someone."