Painted Memories (29 page)

In the back bedroom, I looked in the dresser to find a few leftover clothes from Jesse, who used to sleep out here during his senior year. With him having a job and coming home at all hours of the night, Dad thought it would be a good idea to let him start seeing what it was like to live on his own, and let him use the guesthouse. Too bad he wasn’t forced to pay any bills while he lived out here. Lucky him. I hated it. I protested that it was unfair, but was promised I could do the same when I became a senior Until then, I could just get over it.

For some reason, I couldn't bear giving up the clothes, even if it were for Drew. I took a peek in another drawer and found a couple pairs of shorts and a few tee shirts of my dad's. I took them to him to see if they might fit.

“Try these on. They were my dad's from way back. Not sure if they'll fit or not, but they look like they should.”

He took them hesitantly. “Are you sure?”

“Of course, you're more than welcome. And the bathroom is just down the hall, if you'd like to take a shower.”

Drew took the clothes from me and started down the hall. “Nah, I'll take a shower in the morning.”

While he was changing, I quickly slipped into my sweat pants and tank top, and took a handful of pins out of my hair before curling up on the couch with a blanket. It was a good twenty minutes before I heard Drew come back. “Feel better?” I asked.

Drew sat down beside me on the couch. “Yes. Sorry, I decided to go ahead with the shower. I feel much more relaxed now. The clothes are a little big, but comfy. Thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

“Did Jesse like to lift weights? I saw a weight set in the other room.”

“Yeah. He ran a lot and lifted weights all the time. He was about your size though. He said he wasn't interested in looking like Hercules, but wanted to be fit and toned. He always had girls lusting after him all the time.” I yawned, feeling my eyes burning from exhaustion and all the tears shed.

“I'm tired too. It's been a long day. Maybe you should take a shower too, you'll feel better.”

“No, I don't even feel up to it. I'd rather get some sleep. I have a hunch tomorrow won't be pleasant once my dad wakes up and realizes I'm here. I'm almost scared to be around him now. There's no telling what he'll do... he might hit me again.”

“Go... go get some rest. Don't worry about your father. If he even thinks about hitting you, he'll be on his back before he knows what hit him.”

I leaned in and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Thank you. Thank you for staying, for coming to find me... for everything,” I mumbled into the crook of his neck. “Thank you for understanding.” It was the first time I noticed he didn’t hug me back. Instead, his arms hung limply beside him. I pulled back and raised an eyebrow at him. “You okay?” I asked.

“Yeah.
I'm fine. Just tired. I think we both should get some sleep.”

“Oh, okay. Let's go to bed then.” I started to move and grabbed his hand when he pulled away.

“I'll take the couch; you can have the bed.”

“No, that's crazy. It's a king-sized bed, plus, we've slept together already. I hardly think now is the time to start worrying about that.”

“I'm not saying it is. I'd just prefer to sleep on the couch since this is your parents’ house.”

I was a bit perplexed as to why he would worry about this now. We were both adults and my mother obviously could tell Drew and I were involved. I doubted she would care, let alone know we shared the bed.

“Okay then, goodnight,” I whispered as I leaned up for a kiss.

Drew turned his head as I was about to press my lips to his and instead, kissed my cheek. “Goodnight Lilly. I'll see you in the
morning.” His fingers brushed across my cheek before he grabbed the blanket and switched off the lamp.

Something was wrong. Drew had never refused to kiss me. I didn't say anything more and stumbled in the dark, back to the bedroom. It was comforting to have Drew here, but I still felt uneasy sleeping alone. I pulled off my pants, threw them over the chair next to the bed, and climbed between the sheets. I slept most comfortably that way. It was cool in the room and I pulled the covers up to my neck and closed my eyes, hoping sleep would take me away. I didn't want to worry about what was going to happen
tomorrow, or what my dad was going to say to me or Drew when he found out we stayed the night. As for Drew, I wasn’t sure if he was truly exhausted, or only acting as if it didn't bother him that I killed Jesse. Maybe he was only putting on a good front around me. If that were the case, I hoped that once he left here and resumed his
normal
life, he would run as far away from my crazy life as he could get. 

Waking up with a start, I covered my face with the comforter as the sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains. I must have slept well; at least, I didn't have any nightmares, but I still felt exhausted. The night slipped by as if I just closed my eyes one moment and opened them the next. Looking at the empty space beside me, I wished Drew was asleep beside me, but he opted for the couch instead. I only hoped his mood was due to exhaustion as well, and that he'd have a better attitude this morning.

As I made my way down the hallway, I saw the empty couch and my stomach sunk. The blanket and clothes I gave him the night before were folded and stacked neatly on top of it. My eyes instantly
teared up when I realized I was wrong. He couldn't handle my problems after all, and left without even saying goodbye.

A loud cackle caught my attention and I followed the sound through the kitchen and out to the covered sunroom at the back of the house. My mother and Drew were sitting opposite each other, drinking from coffee mugs. Drew was wearing his grey suit again, minus the jacket. When I stepped into the doorway, they both looked up at me.

“Morning, honey,” Mom said in a cheery tone.

Her voice sounded too upbeat to me so early in the morning. I glanced at the clock over the stove and couldn't believe it was already nine-thirty. “Where's Dad?” I asked.

“Oh, don't you worry about him. He's been out cold since... well, never mind that. I'm sure it will be after lunch before he's up and about.” Mom stood up and patted Drew on the shoulder as she walked past him. Standing in front of me, she cupped my cheek with her hand. Her eyes softened when she looked into mine. “I really have missed you, Lilly. I'm glad you decided to come home, whatever your reasons.” She glanced in Drew's direction and I got the feeling they'd already talked about what happened the night before at the charity event.

“Why didn't you tell me, Mom? Why didn't you tell me everything you were going through with Dad?”

Mom patted my cheek. “We'll talk about it later. Find something to eat and get dressed. Since you're here, I've got something I need for you to do.”

Mom walked past me and out the front door, leaving me standing alone beside Drew. I frowned at him, still hurt that he was going to sneak out. I turned away and walked back into the living room to the couch. Hearing his footfalls behind me, I picked up the clothes I loaned him and swung around. He stopped in the kitchen and looked at me. A lone tear slid down my right cheek, but I swiped it away.

“You were going to let me sleep and just leave, weren't you?  Just going to let me wake up to find you gone? Without even saying goodbye?” My feelings were crushed to think he'd do such a thing. He couldn't say to my face how screwed-up my family was not to mention my life. Instead, he took the coward's way out.

Drew's eyes riveted me with a hard stare. “Seeing as I couldn’t sleep, I was up early. There wasn't a thing to eat or drink here, so I changed to run out and get a few groceries. It's cold outside; I wasn't about to go there in a tee shirt and gym shorts. I assumed you would
still be sluggish when you woke up, and thought it would be nice if you had some hot chocolate. Your lovely mother greeted me at the door when I returned, and we've been chatting ever since.”

A lump formed in my throat and I could hardly swallow as I felt my eyes pricking with tears of embarrassment. Drew reached across the kitchen counter and grabbed a coffee mug from the stand, slamming it on the counter top. I jumped at the sound.

“
I
,” Drew emphasized, “would never leave town without telling the person I care most about goodbye.” He hurried past me with a glare, brushing my shoulder. “Your hot chocolate is on the bar. I'll be over there, helping your mother.”

Tears dripped down my cheeks and I jumped again at the sound of him slamming the front door. As if I needed to give him another reason to hate me, I just assumed he was going to leave me. Maybe he'd be better off if he did leave.

I stood there, my eyes fastened on the door. It seemed like the longer Drew was here, the more pissed off he became. Or maybe
I
was a side effect of his poor attitude. Either way, I felt horrible for accusing him. I sauntered over to the bar to fill my cup and felt even worse when I saw a fresh bagel and a muffin sitting on a plate with a small container of cream cheese beside them. If only I had looked before going into the sunroom, I wouldn’t have opened my big mouth. Frowning, I left it all sitting there. I didn't deserve the comfort it brought. I headed to the bathroom for a shower and let my growling stomach serve as a reminder of my sucky attitude.

My body felt better after I pelted it with the hottest water I could stand. In an effort to get my mind off Drew, I thought about what my mother wanted his help with. As I remember, they let the housekeeper do all the hard work around the house. Whatever it was, I hoped my father wasn't awake yet. I wasn't ready to deal with him, and unsure what to do anymore to improve our relationship. It felt like a lost cause. We had the normal father/daughter relationship growing up, despite the times he fell short at putting his family first, but it was
only because of his career. After the accident, everything went to hell. Slowly, he started withdrawing from Mom and me and began drinking. He couldn't deal with what happened, or what I did, and instead of seeking help, he made alcohol his best friend.

I climbed the winding staircase to the second floor of my parents’ house; my hand polishing the
cherrywood banister as I went up. Sunlight caught the crystals hanging from the chandelier, creating a rainbow of colors that spilled across the wall and hardwood floors. Nothing seemed changed in the time I'd been gone. Some part of me wished it looked different, as a way of moving on, but another part reveled in the comfort of its familiarity.

As I reached the top of the stairs, I called out for Mom and Drew.

“Down here,” I heard my mother answer.

She stood on the right, down the hall, in front of an opened door, its light beaming across the floor, with bags and boxes scattered around her. I moseyed down the hall to where she stood and peered into the open room. It was a larger hall closet with an access panel to the attic. Drew was perched on a ladder about midway up. “What are you doing?” I asked.

“Making use of good, ol' muscle power while it's around the house. I've been getting rid of stuff here and there, boxing up things I don't use, until I can give it away or something.”

Drew climbed down the ladder and moved in on another box when I noticed he was wearing a whole new outfit. The tee shirt was a bit tight through his chest and around his upper arms, so I knew he couldn't be wearing my father's clothes. The jeans fit snugly across his backside, but the boat shoes seemed to fit him perfectly in every way. I couldn't help ogling at the pull of the shirt across his chest once he lifted the box. It was hard not to stare. I remembered the night we shared, and his soft hands caressing my body, his hot flesh pressed against mine. Now, I wondered if he could stand to touch me that way again. His eyes caught mine for a few heartbeats and I gave him a half
smile, trying my best to convey my apologies with a simple look. He made no indication he understood, or if he was even willing to try.

“Lilly,” my mother called, snapping me from my mental images. “Since you're here, I'd like for you to go through your brother's bedroom and sort through what we should keep and what we can donate.”

I stared at her as if she'd just grown three heads. “Umm... I don't think so. There's no way I can do that.”

“You have to, Lilly. You were closest to him; you would know best what we should keep or get rid of.”

“But Mom!” I whined. “I can't. I haven't been in there since he died. How can you make me do this?”

She rubbed my back in a smoothing gesture, “Honey, I know it's hard. Believe me. I know. But it's gotten easier for me since I made myself go in there... soothing almost. It's time, time for all of us to move forward, put what happened behind us and remember all the good that came from the short time we shared with him.”

Sure I got it. I understood all of it... in theory. But how could she spring this on me all of a sudden? This was something that would take time, not something I could just dive into, and start tossing stuff here and there. Everything in his room was a treasure. It was there for a reason, special to him in some kind of way. How could she expect me to give any of it away?

“I don't know, Mom. I just don't think I can do it. You know how hard all of this has been on me.”