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He steps inside and I follow. The room is large, with lots of windows, which gives it an airiness. The walls are painted a light gray color with abstract white stripes overlapping to make different shapes. Some of the shapes are painted randomly with a darker gray color.
His bed is a simple mattress that’s pushed to a far corner. The comforter is black and tossed haphazardly over the mattress like he still lives here and got up and couldn’t be bothered to make the bed, which makes sense since Jace never makes the bed.
The floor is a thick plush beige carpet, but I couldn’t tell at first because it was so covered in random crap like clothes, shoes, magazines, books, music sheets, you name it and it’s probably on the floor.
The walls have posters of bands and models and an old guitar rests against the wall.
“That was my first guitar,” he says, when he sees where I’m looking.
“You didn’t take it with you?” I ask, wondering why he’d leave something like that behind.
“My dad bought it, so I didn’t want to keep it.”
“Is that why there’s so much … stuff here?” I ask, peering into an open dresser drawer full of shirts.
“I wanted to start new,” he explains.
I nod, and smile at him. “I can understand that all too well.”
I pick up a little league trophy. “You played baseball?”
He chuckles and shoves his hands in his pockets. “For like a month. I think I only got that for participation. I wasn’t exactly a sports kind of guy.”
“Nothing wrong with that.” I put the trophy back and pick up a picture frame. “Is this your mom?”
He comes to stand behind me, his body a wall of heat behind me. I feel him nod before he speaks. “Yes.”
“She was beautiful. You have her eyes.” She has a kind face, and his green eyes, with flowing red hair. “What was her name?”
“Melissa,” he says softly.
“Tell me a memory, one good memory you have here.”
He picks up the picture frame, looks at it closely, and then replaces it.
“I remember being maybe four or five and my mom was pushing me on the swing out back. She was singing … something from Mary Poppins, I think, and I remember feeling so loved. She was truly radiant.”
“I hate that I’ll never get to meet her.”
“I do too.”
He reaches down and twines our finger together. I lean my head on his shoulder, hoping through touch alone that I can make him feel the smallest bit better.
***
Jace
Nobody’s come to collect us for dinner yet, which I find strange.
“I’m going to go look for my dad.” I let go of her hand. “You wait here.” I point to my bed.
“Are you sure? I can come with you.”
I shake my head. “Nah, I’ll spare you the drama I’m sure is about to unfold.”
She nods once. “Okay, I’ll be here then.”
I leave her alone in my childhood room and head downstairs to my dad’s office.
