The Other Dibenedetto Girl

Jimmy’s house was the polar opposite of Matt’s house. It reminded me more of a castle than a regular house. The walls were made of white brick and stones decorating it on the edges; the roof was dark tile while several rose bushes sat underneath the front windows. The entry foyer had a black red-carpeted staircase and black marble with peach walls. His living room was a peach color with a high dark brown ceiling showing the rafters holding the roof; two peach and brown sofas facing each other in front of a fireplace; a candle chandelier hung above from the rafters, several pictures of Jimmy with a pretty brunette were around the room and on the side tables. It was all very lovely. I imagined Jimmy would have had something more upscale like Matt had, with sharp edges and leather, but Jimmy seemed to opt for curves and softness.

“Do you like it?” Jimmy asked me as he placed my bag on one of the couches. “My wife decorated it.”

“Your wife? I didn’t know you had gotten married.”

“Well, if you were around more, you would know,” He said in a matter-of-factly tone. “Leana! Leana!”

Jimmy began to call into the nearby room, leaving me inside his living room. I made myself comfortable on the couch. After seeing Matt’s home and now seeing Jimmy’s, I can tell that their talent had gotten them very far in life. It must have been nice to be able to pay bills and not worry about falling into debt; to be able to buy whatever you wanted without having to worry about whether you can afford to keep paying for it. I looked around the room once more, seeing all the pretty costly items that decorated the place. I wouldn’t have been surprised if Jimmy had really decorated this room. Contrary to belief, Jimmy did have a good taste in décor.

“Melanie,” Jimmy walked back into the room with someone behind him, “This is my wife, Leana.”

Leana was a very pretty woman, about a little more than a foot shorter than Jimmy with bouncy curly blondish brown hair and large brown eyes. She wore a large white smile and I could sense the perkiness in her demeanor. Her outfit consisted of a white tank-top and black lounge pants with white socks covering her tiny feet. Seeing her standing beside Jimmy, they made an adorable couple.

“Leana, this is Melanie,” Jimmy said, stepping aside to let us get closer to each other.

“Hi,” Leana and I shook hands, “It’s really great that I finally get to meet the person who did all those nice paintings.”

“What do you mean?”

“When we moved in Jimmy put some of your stuff all over the house. They’re really good.”

‘Really?” I looked at Jimmy.

“Someone had to keep them,” He explained. “But, just to show you how much I love you, I’m gonna go grab one that I found the other day. Be right back!”

Jimmy went up the stairs, and left Leana and I alone together. I had to admit Jimmy was very lucky. Leana was undeniably beautiful and-so far-very nice. I could imagine she might be just as crazy as he was. You kind of had to be to be able to keep up with him.

“So, how long have you and Jimmy been married?” I asked her, trying to kill the awkward silence in the air.

“A year now,” She smiled, “He’s a wonderful husband.”

“I never doubted he would be. He’s a great guy.”

Leana gave me another bright smile, and then offered me a seat on the couch. The both of us sat side-by-side when she spoke again.

“Jimmy told me that you don’t get along very well with your sisters,” She said softly, “How come?”

“Too many reasons to get into right now.”

“Oh, do you wanna explain some of them?” She asked.

I knew Leana was just curious about what had gone on in my house that night and why I had avoided speaking to anyone until now, but I did not really feel like I had to tell her anything. I’d be leaving after the funeral, so it would be kind of pointless to tell Leana my life story. It’s not like she would ever see me again.

“No offense Leana,” I said, “But I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re not very pleasant to think about,” I told her, slouching back on the couch and looking out a nearby window. “A lot of stuff happened between my sisters and I and I don’t really wanna discuss it with anyone. All I want to do is get this funeral over with and go home.”

“So, you’re not staying for Christmas?” Leana asked, “Don’t you wanna spend time with your family?”

“I normally spend Christmas by myself. I want to keep it that way.”

“But-“

“-Got it!”

We both turned our heads to see Jimmy coming down the stairs with a large canvas in his hands. He stood in front of us both and held it up so we may see it. I smiled when I remembered what picture it was. The werewolf in the picture was completely shadowed in black with nothing but it yellow-hazel eyes sticking out. The boulder it stood upon was a light grey color, while the swamp behind it was all damp and eerie. I remembered painting this picture a long time ago, when I went through a monster phase, and I had given it to Jimmy as a birthday present. I spent hours trying to get all the shadowing right so it could give off the creepy, scary vibe that I wanted it to. My dad used to shout that I should spend more time doing shit for him and less time working on this painting. I would tell him to ‘fuck off’, and then keep painting. The only difference between this picture and the one from many years ago was that this picture had been stuck into a nice wood frame. It looked beautiful.

“You framed it,” I said softly, running my fingertips on the cold glass.

“Yeah, makes it look nicer. Don’t you think? I was looking through my basement the other day and found it inside some bubble-wrap.”

“I can’t believe you kept this, Jimmy.”

“It was one of my birthday presents,” Jimmy said, “Why wouldn’t I keep it?”

I laughed a little and gave it back to him. We both shared a small smile, and I immediately understood why Jimmy had kept it all this time. Besides the fact that this had been one of his birthday presents, he had held onto it in the hope that one day I might come back and want to see it, maybe even keep it. It was this little painting that kept Jimmy hoping that we might see each other again, and he wanted to have it handy so I can see that someone had been thinking about me. He wanted to me know that I was not completely forgotten.

“Okay, I’m pretty sure you’re really tired,” Leana said, “So, let me show you we’re you’re gonna be sleeping.”

I agreed and the three of us trekked up the staircase to the second floor landing. They had the basic rooms of a house here: A master bedroom with an adjoining bathroom, a regular singular bathroom, a hall closet, a music room, and a guest room. I expected the guest room to resemble something like a hotel room, neat, clean and untouched. However, when Leana led me into my room, I found the opposite. The bed-which had deep red covers, an Avenged Sevenfold quilt and comfy black pillows-looked as though someone had just made it in a hurry because I could see the unevenness of the cover on both sides. There was a few clothes stashed away in a hamper, and the dark oak wardrobe had a few drawers opened.

“Sorry if it’s not its best,” Leana said. “I didn’t have much time to fix it up.”

“It’s alright,” I said to her sincerely. “I like it actually.”

“Yeah,” Jimmy said, “Brian had crashed here the other night and we hadn’t gotten around to fixing the room for you.”

“What made you think I’d stay with you?”

The tall man cracked a smile, “Because who else would you stay with?”

I didn’t answer the question, because it had been so obvious. There was no one else in the world I would have enjoyed living with except Jimmy.

And Zack, but that would end up being a level so much higher than friendship.

“Well,” Jimmy said, “I guess we’ll let you get settled in. Here’s your bag.” He placed my bag on the bed, “Goodnight.”

“Night,” I said to them both, and they left.

I plopped down on the bed and stared around the room again. There were nice little pictures on the walls; it took me only a minute to notice that they were mine. Above the dresser table, with a vase of roses and a small jewelry box, there hung a painting of a dark-haired girl half-naked sitting on a rock near a waterfall. I had been inspired by those hot springs they have in China or one of those Asian countries, so I decided to draw it. One next to the wardrobe was a Harry Potter themed picture, with Harry and Ginny kissing in the rain. There were other ones around the room, and it made me smile. I did not recall ever giving Jimmy any of these, but I felt it was nice that he had kept them after all this time.

It made me a little happy that someone remembered me.

After taking better looks at all the paintings, I decided to start unpacking my outfit* for the funeral, placing the earrings on the dresser table, along with a make-up bag; then placed my shoes nearby. I knew what I had was a little more conservative than what women my age usually wear, but I figured that it is a funeral, not a fashion show. It was just a nice blank top and wrapped skirt, with this cute frilly cardigan I found one time. If anything, the flower earrings and black peep-toe would be cute.

When that was done, I picked up my pajamas and headed into the bathroom for a shower. This room was clean and neat, like any ordinary bathroom, and like my room, there was a painting in here as well. It was a large pastel piece of a sunflower with a green background. It was nice. Where did he get these all from? Standing in the shower underneath the luke-warm water, my mind began to wander to the events of today. Everything had happened so fast that I was not given a chance to sit and think about what I had agreed to attend. Did I really want to go to my mother’s funeral? All it was do was bring back memories I wished I never had. Was this some sick-masochistic part of my mind that wanted me to relive these memories in my head? Did I subconsciously enjoy living in my own misery, so that is why I stay there? What if Zack was right and I was feeling sorry for myself? Maybe I should just move on. Maybe I shouldn’t. It had never been easy growing up around him. He personally made my life hell; that was not something I could forgive easily.

But why? I thought about this as I dried myself. He had never hit Valary or Michelle. On the contrary, he treated them like angels. He would buy them things all the time; comfort them when they cried; kissed them goodnight and made sure that they were always taken care of. Me? He didn’t care about me. When I was smaller, he would ignore me a majority of the time, but then when he did, it was to lash out at me or yell at me. My “father” had never been a real father. My mother and sisters must have assumed that the abuse would stop once I got older, but it didn’t. It was actually bad in some instances. When I did get older, it took me a while to realize that I could not just let him push me around. I began to fight back; I thought it would scare him off a bit, but it only made him angrier. That was when the fights came in, and we began physically hurting each other. I will admit I did not win every fight. My father was a man (a shitty one, but a man nevertheless) and, naturally, he was stronger than me. I only won when he was too drunk to stand properly.

But why did we have to fight? Why couldn’t he just neglect me like he did when I was smaller? What was it about me that made him hate me so much? I wondered this all the time, but I have a feeling, I’ll never get an answer.

Finally, I got to fling down onto the large mattress and sink into the large cover and soft sheets. As I drifted off to sleep, I thought about Zack, and what had happened between us. Had that moment really had taken place, or was this all a dream and I would wake up tomorrow in my apartment? What if his motives were different than what I hoped they would be? I don’t think I could handle having someone I loved so much hurt me. It was alright when other people did it, because I could just recover from it after a while. With Zack though, I think I would die; then people would ask him how I died, and he’d reply:

’She died of a broken heart.’