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And I make the decision there to keep our first meeting to myself. Best not to worry my brother, especially over something that didn’t mean anything.
CHAPTER 12
MIA
Acouple of days have passed since that first day going through my parents' belongings. In that time, we started off in the attic before continuing down into the upstairs bathroom and the spare bedroom our parents reserved for visitors.
In that time, we have found an array of old toys soiled by dust and mould, old photographs of a time where my parents looked younger and happier, and I even found some old clothes stored away. One was a red dress with white polka dots that I saw in a photo of my parents. My mom was wearing it with a wide brim hat, her arm around my father, and giant sunglasses on her face.
I decided to keep the dress, storing it with my things so that no one could throw it away or donate it.
I don’t know why I decide to keep it, but I couldn’t sell it.
Now Riley, Logan, and I are busy going through my parents’ bedroom. I stand just inside the walk-in closet, bagging Mom's collection of designer clothes, so different from the dress I found. Riley was doing similar, going through the dresser as Logan sat perched against the four-poster bed with a jumbo bag of jellybeans in his lap, chatting nonstop about nothing for the past few hours. At first, I valued the chatter because it distracted me enough to not focus on the fact that I was currently going through my dead parents' things. But now, I’m starting to get a headache.
“Some people say the red jellybean is better than the green ones, but they are crazy! What do you think?”
I don’t even look at him as I walk out, holding a pile of shoes in my arms to drop into our designated pile for shoes to donate that's placed in the middle of the room. Tension bunches my shoulders up to my ears as I mumble my response. “I haven’t really thought about it.”
“You should. These deep questions really open your mind.”
“Well, when I want my mind opened, I’ll come to you,” I tell him with a tight smile as I make my way back into the walk in, leaving Logan to his deep philosophical thoughts.
Not even a minute passes, when Riley speaks from where he is standing, distracting me momentarily, but my eyes focus on the task before me. “Hey, Logan, I think we need more boxes, man. Could you run and get some from downstairs?”
“Why can’t you?”
“I got it last time.”
“Fine.” He gives an exaggerated sigh as he pushes himself up to standing from his place on the floor, whistling the song from Annie for some reason as he leaves the room.
I stand in the opening of the walk-in with a pair of my mother’s shoes in my hands, all too aware of Riley’s eyes on me and the weight of them. I’m used to people staring at me now, almost waiting for me to blow up again or do something stupid, but with Riley, it feels different. Not like he is waiting for me to blow up, but like he is waiting for me to say something, like a silent way of telling me that he is here if I need to talk.
That scares me more than anything because I have seen the pain and loss in his eyes, similar to my own. I also see regret, and I know that he would understand what I am feeling, but I also know that I am not there yet.
So, feeling Riley staring at me from his place near the dresser with my father’s shirt in his hand half folded, I give a tight smile, not looking up from the shoes in my hands, saying too softly, “Thanks.”
I see movement from the corner of my eye as he gives a simple nod, followed by a one shoulder shrug. “No problem. I was getting a headache, so it wasn’t completely selfless.”
“Still,” I say, finally looking up and meeting his eyes, hoping he can see how grateful I am that he saw what many people didn’t, that I needed time to myself and some quiet space to process everything. With so many decisions to make in such a short time, I feel lost, but I need to keep going or I’ll crumble.
We hold each other’s eyes for a while and I watch as his soften when he asks, “So how are you doing?”
I look away, not wanting to see the pity that usually follows that question, not from him. He is the one person who hasn’t treated me like a bomb that may go off or a china doll that might break. He was my normal, and even though he didn’t know it, I kind of needed it. “Can we not? I just want to enjoy the quiet.”
I am met with silence, showing his acceptance of my request as I pick up another pair of shoes of my mother’s. Then I suddenly hear a crack and a sparking sound from above. Before I have a chance to process the sound, I am pulled off my feet and into a hard chest that smells like something I can’t place, but instantly makes my muscles relax despite the shock of being manhandled.
The next second, a crashing sound occurs behind me, making me jump further into the wall of muscle still holding me.
I slowly turn around, seeing the fancy chandelier my mother had to have in her walk-in closet shattered into pieces on the floor where I was just standing. I blink down at it, realising how close I came to either getting knocked out or worse.
I turn back around, still wrapped in a pair of huge strong arms, against a firm chest. I look up into a pair of dark, worried eyes as Riley’s hands come up to cup my face, his gaze running over me as if looking for injury. “Are you okay?”
I almost forget to speak as I realise how little people have asked me that. They’ve asked me a lot lately, but not like he did, like he was genuinely worried and actually wanted to know if I was okay. I inwardly shake myself, forcing myself to speak, my voice cracking as I do. “Um, yeah, I’m okay.”
“Wow, this house really is falling apart,” he says, still not letting me go, and a small part of me doesn't want him to, but I know he has to. I’m in no frame of mind to date, nor just have a random hook up. Besides, Riley isn't the kind of guy you hook up with and never call again; he seems like the kind of guy that if he wanted something, he would stop at nothing until he got it.
Feeling the air in the room getting thicker, I clear my throat, needing the space to breathe and get my thoughts organised. I step back, feeling Riley’s arms drop, and am instantly met with cold air, but I keep a tight smile on my face as I shrug. “It’s just a broken light. I’ll get it fixed.”
