footfalls, probably took the stairs two at a time.
"Hey, do you need a ride?" Alicia politely called after her, but her voice was strained.
"No, I'll walk, it's cool!" Rochelle yelled, the front door slamming loudly after her.
Alicia turned to me, her petite brown eyes narrowed. She walked to the side of the bed and leaned over me. "Get dressed; you shouldn't be laying around this time of day, anyway."
"Yes, ma'am," I laughed, trying to break the tension. I pulled her down for a kiss, and it was hard, and all teeth, just like normal.
Last night must have been a dream.
Chapter Eleven
Rochelle
The screen door shut behind me with a slam. I pushed away my tears and shoved my hands in the pockets of my jacket.
My boots pounded on the pavement, the heels echoing loudly, as I started the 4-block walk home. The neighborhood between their duplex and my tiny house was deserted, normal for a Sunday morning in this town. Manicured lawns marked the few apartment complexes I passed, rose bushes and ferns marking the landscaped edge of the property, woody bark dust surrounding their roots.
I stopped.
The soft fern and thorny roses were a good match. They co-existed in rocky or poor soil. But the bark dust protected the roots, so the elements didn't destroy the plants. Take away the bark dust, and they would be left exposed, forced to weather the storms. Would they be okay without the bark dust? Would they survive? Were their roots deep enough?
A sob choked in my throat. He didn't remember.
I managed to hold in my sobs until I let myself in my house. My living room was bleak, and bare, a demonstration of what little time I spent at home. A dolphin poster with bright blends of blue hues hung over the black leather love seat that faced the TV system. It seemed silly that I had surround sound and 3-D action – when did I ever entertain? Half moons and stars decorated the kitchen walls, with a few plaques of cute coffee quotes my mother had insisted as a housewarming gift. The only appliance that sat on the counter was my well-used coffee maker; the espresso part that had long been overworked and given up the ghost, but yesterday's coffee was still clinging to the carafe on the coffee side. The black ooze was calm and ignored.
I stumbled past my tiny office, filled with filing cabinets, an ancient desk, and a smooth black leather desk chair. I remembered when I had bought this house – just after Aaron and I had broken up - and envisioned a nursery, a smooth white crib and changing table would have fit nicely in here. I had just needed to find a man, and my dreams could come true. But then I met Dominic, working as a teacher's assistant on campus my senior year. He had been a freckle faced red-head, who loved to quote obscure fantasy novels and could play the piano like a dream. He hadn't wanted kids, focusing on his ridiculous computer programming classes and that occasional self-proclaimed "good hack session." It was he who insisted on the home office set up. There was still a bare wall where his computer used to be, the one he built for our late night gaming sessions, even though he'd moved out a little over three years ago. I still wondered if our torrid romance, which lasted about 9 months, only lasted while I had high speed internet. He rarely slept in the bedroom, preferring to crash on the couch. When he moved out and left only a note written in horrible English, I was actually relieved, and wore I would be more picky the next time around.
But in three years there hadn't been a next time.
Now it was an empty office with memories I didn't want to think about. The touch lamp my father gave me when I was six years old sat next to the ancient desktop computer I kept meaning to upgrade, but I always invested in a new tablet or laptop for work. The lamp was gathering dust - the geese on it giving me the evil eye of failure.
My bedroom was an equally depressing sight of my single status. Immaculate bed with black comforter
"Hey, do you need a ride?" Alicia politely called after her, but her voice was strained.
"No, I'll walk, it's cool!" Rochelle yelled, the front door slamming loudly after her.
Alicia turned to me, her petite brown eyes narrowed. She walked to the side of the bed and leaned over me. "Get dressed; you shouldn't be laying around this time of day, anyway."
"Yes, ma'am," I laughed, trying to break the tension. I pulled her down for a kiss, and it was hard, and all teeth, just like normal.
Last night must have been a dream.
Chapter Eleven
Rochelle
The screen door shut behind me with a slam. I pushed away my tears and shoved my hands in the pockets of my jacket.
My boots pounded on the pavement, the heels echoing loudly, as I started the 4-block walk home. The neighborhood between their duplex and my tiny house was deserted, normal for a Sunday morning in this town. Manicured lawns marked the few apartment complexes I passed, rose bushes and ferns marking the landscaped edge of the property, woody bark dust surrounding their roots.
I stopped.
The soft fern and thorny roses were a good match. They co-existed in rocky or poor soil. But the bark dust protected the roots, so the elements didn't destroy the plants. Take away the bark dust, and they would be left exposed, forced to weather the storms. Would they be okay without the bark dust? Would they survive? Were their roots deep enough?
A sob choked in my throat. He didn't remember.
I managed to hold in my sobs until I let myself in my house. My living room was bleak, and bare, a demonstration of what little time I spent at home. A dolphin poster with bright blends of blue hues hung over the black leather love seat that faced the TV system. It seemed silly that I had surround sound and 3-D action – when did I ever entertain? Half moons and stars decorated the kitchen walls, with a few plaques of cute coffee quotes my mother had insisted as a housewarming gift. The only appliance that sat on the counter was my well-used coffee maker; the espresso part that had long been overworked and given up the ghost, but yesterday's coffee was still clinging to the carafe on the coffee side. The black ooze was calm and ignored.
I stumbled past my tiny office, filled with filing cabinets, an ancient desk, and a smooth black leather desk chair. I remembered when I had bought this house – just after Aaron and I had broken up - and envisioned a nursery, a smooth white crib and changing table would have fit nicely in here. I had just needed to find a man, and my dreams could come true. But then I met Dominic, working as a teacher's assistant on campus my senior year. He had been a freckle faced red-head, who loved to quote obscure fantasy novels and could play the piano like a dream. He hadn't wanted kids, focusing on his ridiculous computer programming classes and that occasional self-proclaimed "good hack session." It was he who insisted on the home office set up. There was still a bare wall where his computer used to be, the one he built for our late night gaming sessions, even though he'd moved out a little over three years ago. I still wondered if our torrid romance, which lasted about 9 months, only lasted while I had high speed internet. He rarely slept in the bedroom, preferring to crash on the couch. When he moved out and left only a note written in horrible English, I was actually relieved, and wore I would be more picky the next time around.
But in three years there hadn't been a next time.
Now it was an empty office with memories I didn't want to think about. The touch lamp my father gave me when I was six years old sat next to the ancient desktop computer I kept meaning to upgrade, but I always invested in a new tablet or laptop for work. The lamp was gathering dust - the geese on it giving me the evil eye of failure.
My bedroom was an equally depressing sight of my single status. Immaculate bed with black comforter
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