Landfill

My dad let me borrow his car so I could go to my place and check on things. I was still in limbo about living arrangements; I didn't know if I wanted to move back home, stay in my apartment, or move back to the city. I weighed the options on the ride over to my place, and thought that maybe staying with my parents was best; I didn't like the quiet. I figured keeping my apartment until the lease was up would be alright, and I could move somewhere more permanent when I felt better.

I got to my apartment and noticed how quiet the whole block seemed to be. There wasn't even a chirp of some bird in the air, not a dog barked, not even a car driving pass. I shook off the strange feeling and went down to my apartment block. I stopped short when I saw a woman standing on my small porch, looking around. I went over, clearing my throat; she turned and smiled and I immediately knew who she was; "Can I help you?"

"Yes. I'm Ilene Bridges," she exhaled, "I'm looking for Nikki. Is she home at all?"

"I'm Nikki." I replied wearily.

Ilene grinned, "Oh, great! I got your address from your mother, but that was weeks ago. She said to send you a letter or something but I decided to come and see you."

I stared at her; "See me for what?"

"We should discuss this inside, Nikki." She looked jittery.

"You should see my mom," I told her, "She'd give you whatever you need."

She shook her head, "No, you have...uh, you've..." She trailed, stuck on her words.

I licked over my lips, "I'm staying there, I haven't lived here in over a month."

Ilene bit her lip, "This is a private and important matter."

I relented, "Okay."

I went over, past her and unlocked my door; inside, my apartment was cool from shade. My apartment looked still in time; my clean laundry was folded in the basket by my couch, and my parents coffee mugs were on the counter. My parents didn't check things out before they left with some clothes and Jimmy.

Ilene followed in after me, her wedges clomped on my hardwood flooring. I looked over at her once the door was shut, but couldn't look her features over in the dim light. "Have a seat, I'm going to open the windows and the shades." I told her. "Do you want a drink or something?"

"Water," she said nicely.

"Alright."

Ilene went off towards my living room, all the while her head cocked around, looking at everything. I brushed it off and entered my kitchen, putting the mugs into the sink and then opening the shades and window just above it. I opened the fridge and found some filtered water and filled a glass for Ilene; I entered the living room; she was standing by my coffee table with Shane Valdez's script in her hand. "You're an actress?" She asked.

"No," I replied, setting the glass on the coffee table, "I'm a writer."

She hummed, "What's the script for?"

I went and opened the blinds to the patio door and slid open the glass door; "It was sent to me...it's for my book...they're turning it into a movie."

Ilene's eyes widened; the exact same way Ryan's had. "Oh, wow. You're famous."

"No," I sat down on the love seat, "I'm not. I'm just..." I lacked the words to explain.

"You're humble," she said dubiously and sat across from me on the sofa.

I shook my head, "I'm not famous, I've just been fortunate to have people enjoy my writing. Some so much they want to see it played out on a movie screen."

Ilene set the script down, "You owe me no explanation, Nikki."

I cleared my throat again, "What're you doing here?"

She paused her movements, she looked down and played with the edge of her thumbnail. I finally got a look at her, even with her eyes adverted;

She and Ryan had the same lengthy fingers, the long neck and limbs; she just isn't as tall. The hair color was the same, the rounded nose with the dips at each nostril. They share same hazy kind of look when they don't know what to say, and the large eyes; hers were green, though. You could see Ryan in her, delicately. I wondered, then, what his father must've looked like.

"Did you love him?" I asked her suddenly.

Ilene looked at me with narrowed eyes; bewildered. "Did I love him?"

"Yes. Ryan. Did you love Ryan?"

Ilene swallowed, her long neck had bobbed. "Yes, I did."

I didn't believe her.

"How come you didn't come to his burial?"

"Because I couldn't." She answered hotly. "What is this; 20 questions?"

"I want to know why you're here. Why are you visiting me?"

Ilene scoffed, "Did you love my son?"

I didn't hesitate to answer, "I love him; not past tense, either. I love Ryan with every inch of my being."

Ilene shut up quick. Again, she faltered with what to say, her features brushing, matching Ryan's.

"Why're you here?" I asked shortly.

"I was informed that you're getting his inheritance."

I grit my teeth, "You're here for money." It was a statement; a dissonance tone.

Ilene sat still, not speaking.

"You can have it." I muttered to her, "It's 250 thousand dollars. I don't even need it. I have more of his money, too. A lot."

Her eyes grew wide in excitement, "Y-you do?"

"Yes. It's a lot of money that I don't want or need--"

"Why?"

"I'm 25 years old, I don't need that kind of money. Besides, I'm settled."

Ilene smiled, "You're great, Nikki."

I stood, "Once you get this money and leave, I want you to know that you really missed out on raising an amazing man. Ryan didn't deserve to be left with his ill father."

Ilene's smile turned, "You don't know what you're talking about."

"I know a bit." I told her. "His father was sick and Ryan had to care for him. I don't know what kind of life you two had as parents, but Ryan..." I felt tears coming, "Ryan should've had you around."

Ilene only stared at me again; no emotion to her face. She didn't speak as she dug into her jeans pocket and handed me a note. "Yeah, I know." Was all she had to add.

I watched leave, my hand balled up the paper and was prepared to toss it. I didn't; I shoved it into my pocket and sat down, palming my face. My body shook and wrecked with sobs and tears.


I returned home with the charger and some food. My dad was deep in his steady, Mozart floated throughout the house. I could hear my mom hum along in the living room; "Mom, I'm back. Dad's keys are on the table in the foyer."

"Come here for a moment." She called back to me.

My mom continued to hum along to Symphony No. 40; she was dancing when I entered. She looked very happy; her benevolence demeanor made me smile; "What's with the Amadeus dance off?"

She giggled, "Nikki, come here. I want to see you."

I set my bag of fast food on the coffee table and stood by my mom as she waltzed with herself. "What's the deal?"

"I'm trying to make you smile." She teased.

"You've won." I smiled at her.

She stopped her dancing and took my hand, "How are you?"

"I'm good, mom," I reassured her.

I had thought about telling her of Ilene coming to visit, but I wasn't sure how to explain it. The while thing had upset me and I didn't want to go back there. I just flashed a faux smile and talked shortly with her before I went to the kitchen and ate my food.