Smiles Echo In My Memory

I heard a light groan, and then felt shifting. I felt a hand place it’s self on my neck, shaking me softly.
“Sazzy? I told you not to fall asleep…” Frank muttered the sigh evident in his voice. I cracked my eyes open, sniffing and lifting my head from his shoulder.
“Mmm… Are we there yet?” I asked, stretching out my arms above my head, and patting my hair in place.
“Almost,” Frank replied, rubbing his nose. I plopped my head back onto his shoulder, staring out the window at the passing streets.
The car started slowing at a clean, white suburban neighbor-hood, pulling up at a gravel driveway. I looked up at the house through the window, the white, clean brick house gleaming in the morning sun. It had matching white windows with cream curtains enclosing the inside of the house. The black front door was freshly painted, the silver door-bell and knocker shining. It looked like it had just been built.
The driveway, I noticed, just about had room for three cars, and I saw Franks’ black Punto and Linda’s silver Volkswagen Passat parked up, the taxi we were in taking up the remaining room.
“That’s your house…?” I asked, dumbstruck. It looked really nice, and from what I heard from Frank, Jersey was… well, a shit-hole.
He chuckled, his arm draped around my waist.
“Yeah. Jersey does have some decent areas, you know,” he stated. I didn’t reply, and got out of the yellow cab, Frank helping me out. Thetaxi cab driver opened up the boot of the car, pulling out the three suitcases from it. Linda paid him, the man getting back in and driving off towards the city central. Frank grabbed at my hand, his other clasped firmly around the handle of his case, pulling me and his case towards the black front door. My case was small, wheels fixed at the bottom, much like Frank’s silver case and Linda’s purple one. Only mine was a deep blue, but otherwise identical to the other two.

Linda had already opened the front door, leaving it open for us. Frank led the way up to the door, helping me pull my case up the three steps. I stepped in after Frank, into a big, cream hallway. The staircase was on the side, leading to the second floor. There were three pictures hung in a neat line on the cream wall; the first one was of Frank as a baby, playing with a toy guitar with who I presumed as his father. The second one, which was in the middle, was of Frank with Linda and his Dad, all of them laughing at a dining table. The last one was of Frank and Linda, their arms draped around each other, at a park. Frank had a cigarette resting firmly in between his index and fore finger, so it was the most recent one. He looked just like he did now, without the red on the sides of his hair, so I guessed it was from before they moved to England.

Linda was no-where to be seen, most likely up in her bedroom settling down to take a nap.
“How did the cars get here…?” I asked, the question only popping up in my mind now. He smiled, pushing down the handle on his case down, lining it up against the cream wall next to mine.
“My Dad picked them up from the ferry last night. We sent them over to make shit easier,” he said, pulling off his shades and folding them up, shoving them in his hoodie pocket. He turned, shutting the black door quietly with a ‘click’.
“I never really realized how much I missed this place,” he mumbled, his back to me, his palm flat against the back of the door. He sighed, sitting up. I wrapped my arm around his waist from behind him, resting my head in the crook of his neck.
“Well, you’re here now.”