To Go From There

I had a week left before school started up. I hadn’t heard from Rhys, which was unusual but he was grounded, again, so I thought nothing of it. I invited Dad to stay with me, and I packed Mom’s stuff up. Mom’s will left the house and everything to me, or so said the lawyer. My mom wanted to cremated and spread out in the nearest field. So when the box of her ashes arrived, I walked by myself out to the field and waited for the wind. I let them drift away and spread out. I smiled a bit. I still missed my mom but I knew she wasn’t in any pain anymore. I could never hug her or see her again, but isn’t it selfish to want her to be alive just so I can have her, despite how sick she was?

“Honestly, I thought you hated me,” I said to Dad one night after dinner. I was washing the dishes, something I actually enjoyed doing.

“Why would you think something like that?” he asked, drying a plate and putting it in the cabinet.

“Well… I was 7, and thought you left because I was very plain.”

“My daughter? Plain? HA!”

At least he could have a laugh at it.

“I was seven. I convinced myself that you hated me because I wasn’t special. I’ve thought that since.”

“I can hear the until… what changed your mind?”

“No one.”

“I said nothing about a person. Who is he?”

“No one. Just a boy,” I answered, rising out a bowl before handing it to him

“Mhm, sure. What’s his name?”

I stayed quiet, my mouth remaining shut. This had nothing to do with Rhys.

“Come on, I’m your father. I deserve to know.”

“Fine, his name is Rhys. He’s my boyfriend, I think.”

“You think?”

“He never really officially asked me. But we went on a date and we’ve been practically a couple since June.”

“You really should clarify if you are going out or not.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Why don’t you go now? I’ve got the dishes,” Dad said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, go on.”

I stepped back from the sink and grabbed a towel from the oven’s handle bar. I wiped my hands off and tossed it onto the table before heading out the door. I put on my shoes, and headed out. I was dressed in a pair of dark-washed jean capris and a blue bustier tank top. My shoes were a simple pair of flat slip on rainbow-checkered shoes. I have too many pairs of shoes.

I wasn’t ready to run just yet so it took longer than it normally would to get to Rhys’. I hummed as put one foot in front of the other and smiled when I got to the bottom of the hill. I was almost there.

I trudged up the hill to the Abbott house and stood on the stoop for a few minutes. I finally got up the courage and knocked. An older woman with silver hair and shimmering blue eyes answered.

“Hello?” she looked as confused as I felt.

“I’m looking for Rhys Abbott?”

She didn’t seem to recognize the name.

“Who?”

“Rhys Abbott? He lives here?”

“Oh, yes, Abbott! They were renting my house while I was in London. I left the house to them in my will. When the boy got in some trouble, and the girl was attacked, I told them they could stay here. They needed it. But of course, the boy got in some trouble. But anyway, that’s neither here nor there. They’re sweet people. Left me an address to forward their mail there. Here, I’ll fetch it if you need them,” the little old lady puttered to her front hall desk where she shuffled some papers. She came back with a small paper, with loopy writing. She returned to me.

“Here it is.”

I took it from her extended, shaky hand. I stuffed it in my pocket and took off.

How dare he just leave me like that!?!?