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Did I have shit to do?
Yes.
Ialwayshad shit to do lately.
But after that conversation with my aunt, it felt much more pressing for now to make my way out to the home I’d grown up in. The one my parents shared, but was just my father’s now.
My “father.”
Whew.
It was wild to think about, but I really should’ve sought more clarity from Aunt Lucy about the timing of when my mother stopped fooling around with Stanford andstartedwith William Stark. At this point,Soren’spaternity wasn’t really a question in my mind, but my own was a little more of a mystery.
Pulling up to the property was bittersweet. I hadn’t been here since my mother passed because honestly… it hurt. I’d helped her plant the roses out front and she built and stained her own custom shutters that flanked the front windows of the big brick house.
Home.
My journey from the car to the front door was slow, and out of respect, I didn’t simply use the keys I still had to unlock it and walk in. I rang the bell a few times, waiting a while for an answer before I decided that maybe no one was home.
I had my keys in my hand when the door finally swung open.
William Stark had certainly seen better days.
His wrinkled, disheveled clothes and unkempt facial hair were a sharp contrast to the man I knew, who prided himself on a polished exterior.
“What the hell doyouwant?” he asked, spreading the smell of liquor in the air as he spoke.
I straightened my shoulders, meeting his gaze. “I want to come in… to have access to Mama’s old office. Or… wherever she may have kept her personal things.”
For a long moment, he just looked at me, then stepped back. “Good. Come get this shit before I burn it all up,” he groused, gesturing at the stairs, where the office was. “Take it all. It won’t be here when you come back.”
Shit.
Clearly he wasn’t even thinking about it until I brought it up and now I’d given him ideas.
No big deal, though.
Instead of indulging any conversation that was sure to go left with him in an inebriated state, I kept it pushing.
Not that I had much to say to him anyway, unless he was trying to offer some answers.
That was the only reason I didn’t make a fuss about him following me up the stairs and standing at the doorway to the office as I poked around. I knew the only reason it wasn’t covered in dust was because of the cleaning service that came to the house. Otherwise, the office was basically perfectly persevered, exactly as my mother had left it the last day she had the strength to cross the threshold.
It was a heavy sort of energy.
At first I took my time, just absorbing. In a lot of ways, it still felt like her, and if I concentrated hard enough, itsmelledlike her.
I wished therewasn’tanybody home.
Because instead of leaving me be, my father decided it was prudent to just stand there, drink in hand, exuding a quiet agitation that made it all just… awkward.
I needed to get what I’d come for.
She’d always loved a good cube shelving moment, so I grabbed one from a shelf that was mostly empty. I took a few framed pictures, opening cabinet doors to look through until I landed on one that was of particular interest.
Her safe.
“Is there anything in this?” I asked, since he was standing there being nosy.
