“Five, four.”
I can’t remember what my life was like before you.
“Three.”
I’m falling for you.
“Two.”
I don’t know what I would do without you.
“One.”
I love you.
* * *
As predicted, I woke up past noon on New Year’s Day. After spending the rest of the party on the phone with Teeny, I drove my parents home in their inebriated state. “Home” feels a bit generous. With the thirteen-foot-tall ceilings and formal dining room, it feels like a museum rather than a place I’m supposed to call home. Even my room, mostly empty with all of my belongings back at Del Mar Heights, feels cold and vacant.
I trudge out of bed and down the winding staircase to the large kitchen with an industrial-sized refrigerator to find a note on the island.
Went out to brunch with Mom. Call my cell if you need anything. -DAD
Without the pressure to wake up and be presentable, I reach into the fridge for a bottle of orange juice, drinking it straight from the spout. I slump onto the sectional couch in the TV room where we have a projector set up in place of a TV. It takes some troubleshooting before I learn all the bells and whistles, and I finally figure out how to play a DVD. I consider calling Teeny but then remember her plans with her family.
So, I’m left alone in this house that will always feel new to me, like a tumbleweed rolling through a lush forest. After about two hours of mindless TV watching, I mosey back to my room, feeling a little restless. I’m about to call Teeny, hoping she’s finally back home, when I hear the front door open.
“I can’t believe you, Eddie!” I hear my mom hiss at my dad followed by the door closing and my dad’s urgent steps at my mom’s heels.
“Alice, I told you. Nothing’s going on.”
“You are so full of shit. I saw how she was looking at you last night,” my mom openly argues. “And today at the club. What the hell was that?”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
Something, probably a cabinet door, slams shut with a bang. “I’mbeing ridiculous? Are you kidding me? You didn’t see the way she kept touching you and laughing at your jokes like you’re her own personal comic. Do you know how inappropriate that looks? You’re married, Eddie. And so is she.”
“Well, maybe it’s nice to get a little attention every now and then.”
“Oh, you want attention? That’s the problem?”
“Alice, keep it down. Everett is going to hear you.”
I’ve been sitting at the top of the stairs, my knees drawn up to my chest with my back against the wall, reverting back to when I was a kid, and this was how I coped with my parents’ arguing. Sitting offside, trying to blend into the wall like a spider in its web while getting a front-row seat to their marital problems.
“Well, maybe he needs to hear how his dad is a cheat?—”
“Alice.” My dad’s tone turns dark and threatening. “Stop.”
“You can’t keep shutting me down every time I bring it up! You can’t treat it like it wasn’t a big deal!”
The high-pitched blast feels like an explosion. Glass shatters, skittering across the hard floor.
And the room falls silent.
It’s like a snowstorm. When it snows, it’s silent. It isn’t like rain where the fat drops of water hitting the ground sound menacing or even deafening, especially during long bouts of thunder and lightning. It’s quiet even though you expect noise.
“I’m done.” I hear my mom’s shaky voice. “I’m leaving. You can stay here in his big house all on your own and do whatever the hell you want, Eddie. I’m done.”
