Family Pieces (6 page)
The next morning was Sunday. Opening her semi-blurred eyes, from not having removed her contacts the night before, Karsen glanced out the bedroom window, which looked out to the front street. She saw a worn red, four-door sedan sitting across the way. The car seemed out of place, but she shook it off. After all, she didn’t live here anymore and it was probably just the neighbors.
She wobbled to the bathroom. Photos from her childhood adorned the otherwise bare white walls along the way. Karsen had lived in the house for eighteen years and had never paid much attention to the décor or her mother’s style. It was just simply home. Now, though, every detail seemed to jump out at her. The house had an old-fashioned,
Brady Bunch
feel about it. Certainly different from what you see in the latest edition of
Trend Home
magazine. Elementary school photos from every year filled the edges around an oval frame with her high school senior picture highlighted in the center. She was just three years older now, but this morning, it felt like thirty.
She found her saline solution on the bathroom counter and placed a drop into each eye. After several blinks, her contacts resumed their moisture and she could once again see clearly.
“Shit,” she groaned, wishing now she couldn’t. Looking at herself in the mirror, she looked shabby, no,
more like pathetic
, she thought. Her eyes were red and swollen both from incessant crying and lack of proper sleep. “If James could see me now,” she mumbled, as she turned on the water to rinse the remnants from the prior day’s eyeliner that still rimmed her eyes in a raccoon-like circle.
When she got back to her room, she checked her cell phone for what seemed like the hundredth time. There were no missed calls. No messages. James had not even called yesterday, the day of her mother’s funeral.
Perhaps he had called the house instead of her cell and chose not to leave a message.
She tried to justify his actions, but deep down all she longed for was to hear his voice.
Karsen joined Brad in the kitchen. She opened the kitchen pantry, remembering precisely where every dish, plate and food could be found. For over twenty years, her mother had maintained the same organization. The pantry was stocked full and looked as though it could easily feed a family of ten through a year of famine.
Brad pulled out the pancake mix and one of several bottles of syrup while Karsen started the coffee. “I actually think I’m hungry,” Karsen said, realizing she hadn’t eaten a full meal since they left Arizona.
“Did I say I was making any for you?” Brad held the box of mix over her head as if to pour the complete contents out. Physically he was stronger than her, as most men naturally were, but he was barely taller in height. She grabbed the box and tugged it from his hands, dusting them both in white powder.
“Nice try, Big Brother.” She extended her right leg in a roundhouse kick, coming inches from his privates. He instinctively covered his unit with both hands. “Hey, watch it!”
“At least my hours of kick-boxing classes come in handy for something.” She stuck her tongue out at him like they were children. As Brad cleaned up their mess, Karsen set down the box of mix on the counter and proceeded to pull out the griddle and a mixing bowl. They then worked together to make the pancakes.
“Mmmm…I smell coffee.” Their father groggily rounded the corner.
“Nice of you to join us, Sleeping Beauty,” teased Karsen.
“No wait, he’d have to be the Beast,” Brad said with a chuckle.
“No, that’s a different story, idiot.”
“Oh, whatever. What the hell do I know about fairy tales?”
“Bickering banter. Your mom always laughed at it,” Carl said wistfully, shaking his head with a smile. “But you both drive me bonkers.”
Karsen blew him a kiss like she did as a child. His hand grasped the air to catch it, then motioned as if to put it in his pocket. “For later,” he said with a wink. Karsen returned what she always deemed her dad’s greatest gesture of affection with a perfect, gleaming white smile.
“You slept over twelve hours,” Karsen said in amazement, as his usual allotment hardly surpassed five or six.
“It’s the first real sleep I’ve gotten since…well, since the accident. Guess it caught up with me,” he replied.
“Probably the anxiety over all the arrangements didn’t help,” Brad said.
“You guys did more than I did. I don’t know what I’d do without you two.”
“Starve.” Karsen smirked and handed him a plate stacked with pancakes warm from the griddle.
“Thanks.” He poured a mound of warm maple syrup overtop, the sweet aroma making his mouth water before he took the first bite.
“What did you want to do today, Dad?” Karsen asked.
“I thought I’d go to the cemetery and then out to the boat. Sitting here has too many reminders of her.” He paused realizing he’d planned to be alone. “That is, if you guys don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind. I’m fine just relaxing,” Karsen said.
“Whatever you want, Dad.” Brad patted his back. “I need to work on some new material for my next show anyway.” He’d given his first performance at the Improv a year prior and his growing interest in stand-up had blossomed into a flourishing hobby. His last act created such a buzz, he wanted to make sure his next performance surpassed it.
“And I’ve got homework I should do.” Karsen added to make her dad feel less guilty about leaving them.
After their father headed out, Brad settled into his favorite chair.
Feeling less than enthusiastic about tackling her homework, Karsen felt the need to explore, although she wasn’t sure what she was looking for or why. She entered her parents’ bedroom. The room looked eerily unchanged from what she remembered growing up.
Moving to the closet, she felt the different textures as she guided her fingers across her mother’s clothes. The closet would need to be cleared out at some point, but for now she knew her dad would not allow it. She held her mother’s navy blue cardigan up to her face and inhaled the few traces of her mom’s lingering scent. The previous day’s emotions hastily tore at her heart. She sank to her knees on the floor as the tears spontaneously flowed once again.
“I’m so sorry, Mom!” she wailed. “I’m sorry for not listening to you when I was a teenager. I’m sorry for all the times I intentionally disobeyed your wishes. I’m sorry for not eating my vegetables and for telling you that you were an awful cook when you weren’t. I’m sorry I pushed you away like all teenagers do. I’m sorry I pushed your buttons to make you mad just because I knew I could. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I loved you more. I need you, Mom. Why, God? Why now? Oh, God I need my Mom!”
Her impromptu outpouring of emotion was unintentional. She had tried to be strong, but how could she face going back to school knowing her life would never be the same?
She didn’t know when but Brad’s arms had cradled around her. They huddled inside the closet and he rocked her gently, soothing her until her sobs eased into sniffles. She had cried before, but this meltdown took Brad by surprise. He hated seeing her hurt.
“Shush, K.” He held her.
“I need her, Brad. I still need her here.”
“I know.”
“I didn’t tell her I loved her. The last time I saw her, I didn’t tell her.”
“Mom knew you loved her. Here,” he said reaching into his pant’s pocket. His fist transferred the contents into her hand.
Karsen’s eyes strained to focus on the necklace with its delicate charm now lying in her hand.
“Mom’s?”
“Uh huh. I took it off her before they closed the casket. She’d have wanted you to have it, K.”
Her eyes blurred with tears once more. “Does Dad know?”
“Yes, I told him.”
“Was he pissed?”
“Let’s just say he wasn’t happy, but he’ll get over it. Like I said, Mom would’ve wanted you to have it.”
“Thanks.”
“Are you going to be okay?” he asked, as he helped her stand and walk over to the bed.
“Yeah.” At least momentarily, she did feel a little better after her cathartic episode. Karsen wiped her tears and blotted her nose with the back of her hand as Brad kissed her tenderly on the forehead before returning to the living room.
Clenching the necklace in her hand, Karsen’s eyes focused on her mother’s brown, oak dresser. The dresser had been part of the family as long as she could remember, with a traditional look that remained timeless.
Karsen opened the top-middle drawer, the one her mom kept her jewelry in. Her eyes were quickly drawn to the reason for her search - two familiar charms – puzzle pieces like the one she wore around her neck and the one she still held in the palm of her hand. An upside down wallet-sized photo had gotten wedged into the corner of the drawer. Karsen slid the picture out of the crevice it was lodged in and turned it over. She couldn’t place the photo, but recognized it as a baby girl; it looked old and she wondered if it was her mother.
Placing her mother’s necklace on top of the dresser, she removed her grandparents’ charms and laid them alongside it. She grabbed her dad’s off the top corner of the mirror where it hung, then instinctively reached behind her neck, grasping the small latch of her own necklace. A strand of her hair intertwined around the clasp and pulled as she removed the chain. She unwound the dark Karo-colored thread and flicked it aside.
“Hey, Brad. Bring me your keychain,” she yelled, anxious now to complete the puzzle.
“In a minute,” he yelled back.
“Never mind. I’ll get it myself.” She had no patience to wait for him and, her mood brightening, jogged to the kitchen to retrieve her brother’s keys.
Back in her mother’s room, she laid the pieces in a row – first Grandpa’s, then Grandma’s, her mom’s, Dad’s, then Brad’s and finally her own. Her eyes starred blankly as her fingers adjusted the pieces. Something wasn’t right.
Huh?
She thought quizzically. She bit at her fingernail.
That’s odd.
“Hey, Brad. Come here,” she yelled again.
“I told you I would bring it in a minute. Hold your horses.”
“No, come here. It’s missing.”
“What’s missing?”
“A piece.”
“A piece of what?”
“There’s a piece missing. It doesn’t fit,” Karsen said with some irritation. “Just come here!”
Brad sauntered back to his parents’ room. “What?” He sounded exasperated at the interruption.
“Look. Mom’s charm and Dad’s charm. I tried to put them together, but they don’t link. They’re all supposed to fit together. That’s why we have them.”
“Are you sure that’s Dad’s piece?”
“Of course I’m sure. It was right here where he always leaves it.”
“Huh.” Brad wasn’t sure what to think.
“What does this mean?”
“I’m sure it’s nothing, Karsen.” He shrugged it off. “They’re just charms. The pieces were symbolic - a simple, silly tradition.”
“You don’t think it’s anything then?”
“Nah, maybe they never did really link.”
“Well, I still find it peculiar that every piece fits except these two.” She pushed the pieces closer together with her index finger.
“I’m sure there’s a logical explanation. What, I don’t know, but I’m sure it’s nothing.”
Brad didn’t admit it, but the goose bumps on his arms validated that his sister just might be right. He moved the pieces together with his finger. There was a piece missing. The lingering question was why?
