Posts Tagged foyer
She put her hand on top of his.
“No,” she said. “This isn’t about me. Go.”
He kissed her mouth. “Everything will be fine.”
“I know,” she said. Going to a business breakfast at dawn, where she would have nothing to say, was not something she was interested in. Danno was right in saying that not everything was always going to be perfect, in her opinion, all of the time. Jase was so aggressive and quick to be mean. And she would fall apart whenever they disagreed or wanted two different things. Danno was confident because he knew that he would not always be able to make her happy. Because it was not his job. “I’ll see you when you get back.”
“What are you going to do?” He said.
“I’ll straighten up around here and sort through my things.”
“Sort through how?”
“Fold clothes, make sure everything is organized.”
“How many things do you still keep at your parent’s house?”
“Quite a few. It hasn’t been that long since I came back from Boston.” She thought of the piles of boxes and stacks of books that were flooding the basement. “Why do you ask?”
“We may want to come up with a plan to get everything out of there soon.”
“But I live there.”
“Maybe not for long.”
She would live with him if he asked, even though she had no idea where he lived. She hoped she would not get so desperate that she would actually ask if she could live with him. She couldn’t bare the thought of not being able to indulge in their every whim when she had to leave Emmanuel’s house.
She returned his smile. He left through the front door and she could hear Rainbow’s car running in the driveway. She walked through each room, gingerly folding clean clothes and laying them in her suitcase. She gathered up wadded, dirty garments and began a load of laundry. She had not done anything normal in days and it felt nice to be caring for a home.
The doorbell rang. She flocked to the foyer; sure that Danno had forgotten something and was locked out. She stopped short of the bay window and in the lower corner could see Bruno, the gardener, on the front porch.
Instead, he turned, walked out the front door, and came back inside one second later with the morning paper. He carried it out the back door and had a seat on one of the lawnchairs. She took a deep breath. He was staying, for now.
She heard the phone ringing. She followed the ringing to her purse, which was flung into the corner of the foyer, and found the phone.
“Ala. It’s mom. Whose car is that?”
Ala rushed to the window and tugged the blinds out of the way. The Aston Martin gleamed in the sun, more beautiful than she had remembered it. It sucked all of the attention from the rest of the cars on the block for certain.
“Oh, I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“No.” She hated when her mother did this. This repetitive passive aggressive communication was so juvenile.
“It’s parked directly in front of Emmanuel’s house”
“Why would someone park there if they weren’t actually inside of Emmanuel’s house?”
“You’re asking as if I parked it there.”
“Well, did you?”
“No, I arelady told you I don’t know whose care it is.” She heard the back door closing and lowered her voice. “I’ve never seen that car in my life. I assure you, I’m perfectly fine.”
Silence. Staying calm was the sure way to shut her mother up.
“Alright then. What are your plans for the day?”
She felt him watching her from behind.
“I’m a little busy now explaining things to the gardener. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Don’t forget to call. Dad wants to talk to you.”