12
12
Today was going to be a damn busy day. Lauren blew hair out of her face as she dragged large cardboard boxes out of the local supermarket and tossed them in the back of Parker's van.
"Who...pant...knew...that boxes could be so heavy?" Sam complained as she dragged out a large amount of folded up boxes.
"Oh, don' whine like Parker now," Natalie teased as she sat behind the wheel twirling the car keys on her index finger.
"I'd like to hear you say that if you got on up off your lazy ass," Samantha retorted, throwing a piece of cardboard at Natalie who laughed and dodged it.
"Missed!" she chuckled.
"Whatever."
Sam glanced at Lauren as they shoved the boxes in the back.
"You ready for this?" she asked.
Lauren smiled.
"I'm not completely ready to look closely through the stuff, so storing them in these boxes is the next best thing. Until I get the courage to go through all of it."
Sam nodded. "We'll put it up in the attic at mine and James' place, that alright?"
"It's perfect," Lauren replied, really grateful. "Thanks."
Unexpectedly, Samantha threw her arms around her for a quick hug before climbing into the back of the van to stack the boxes neatly.
Lauren blinked. She had gotten accustomed to limited physical contact of that kind seeing as Aunt Abby thought it childish to require hugs and kisses as Lauren’s mother had “spoiled” her. With a soft smile climbed into the front.
Natalie was reclined in the driver’s seat, twirling the keys still as they waited for Samantha.
Suddenly, she stopped and lowered the keys to her lap.
Lauren tried her best to feel at ease and not show her discomfort at the silence between them.
“So, Laurie!” said Natalie, smiling at Lauren. Lauren smiled back. “What are your plans?”
Lauren raised her brows. “With the house?”
Natalie tilted her head and nodded. “Yeah, but I mean like, in general. Like, do you plan on stayin’ in Woodfair very long?”
Lauren shrugged. “Once I sell the house, I have no reason to stay.”
She thought that had been the end of the conversation, but Natalie proved her wrong. “And Aaron?”
Her brows rose, but Lauren kept a straight face. “What about Aaron?”
Natalie shrugged. “Do you plan on getting closer to him?”
“What?” Lauren asked with a confused frown.
Before Natalie could respond, Samantha was climbing in beside Lauren.
“Alright! Let’s go.”
Soon they were heading back to the house and Natalie never said another word.
Natalie drove like a madwoman and blamed Parker for being impatient with her when he was teaching her how to drive. Sam said she was looking for a reason to justify breaking every road rule to ever exist.
The car pulled into the yard and Parker came out of the house to help them carry in the boxes.
The front yard was filled with furniture from the living room and kitchen, awaiting a truck that was to pick them up.
Parker watched Natalie climb out of the driver's seat with a smug grin on her face.
"You let her drive?!" He said accusingly at Samantha.
Sam shrugged and headed into the house, leaving Parker and Natalie to argue about the strict ban of her hands on his steering wheel that he had ordered a year ago.
Lauren sighed and followed Sam in.
James and Grayson were stripping the faded wallpaper off the empty living room walls.
"You got 'em?" Gray asked regarding the boxes. Lauren nodded.
"Yeah. You guys nearly done? I can't wait to paint!" she did a happy little jig over to where James was carefully ripping off wallpaper.
"Nearly there," said James with a chuckle.
"We're not putting up wallpapers in here, just the bedrooms," Lauren said.
Samantha nodded. "It's way more chic that way," she said flamboyantly. James scoffed.
"I don't know 'bout ‘chic’, but it sure does cut the workload." He grinned.
Grayson nudged Lauren while she studied the faded wallpaper in her hand thoughtfully.
She looked up at him. "Hmm?"
He cocked his head to the side. "Whatcha thinkin' 'bout?" he asked and Lauren scoffed out a laugh.
"You know, if you spoke that way in Chesterville, everybody around you would turn into a grammar tutor."
Gray rolled his eyes. "Yeah, cause everybody up there's got a stick shoved far up their asses."
Lauren laughed and nodded. "You have no idea how right you are," she said.
Grayson chuckled and continued smoothening down the walls.
"So... you gonna take a look at the Rev's room?" he asked. "We've hardly gone in there, ya know?"
She nodded. She didn't know what it was, but something in her kept resisting whenever she wanted to go into that room.
No matter how much she loved her grandfather, the thought of sorting through his belongings still brought a shiver down her back. She sighed.
"I'll do it... soon."
He nodded, kept working.
Lauren remembered what Parker said about feeling like someone had been in pops' room and she thought of telling Gray what she'd heard the Mayor say in his room last night, but decided against it.
Whatever political schemes he had going on in his campaign, it didn't have anything to do with her late grandfather. It was just the usual games of politics and she was letting her imagination run away with her.
She glanced up at Grayson and petted him on the shoulder as she turned to head upstairs.
Lauren grabbed a large box and lifted her gaze to the door near the kitchen. Her and her mother’s room. There were times when she slept in Aunt Abby’s room, but Lauren was often with her mom in their room.
Would she find traces of her mother in there? Of herself?
She swallowed and took determined steps to the door and stopped before it.
Holding the box with one hand, she reached out with the other and turned the handle, pushing the door open.
Lauren stared at the room before her, the clear memory of it hit her like she'd only seen it yesterday. It was amazing how clearly she remembered the single bed that sat in the far corner, its sheets a faded yellow and undisturbed. The bed was low and sat on four sturdy wooden legs.
The windows were not large and were covered with simple lace curtains. Curtains that were now stiff with age and dust. There was a single table beside the bed and a chair by it.
On the other side of the room sat a wardrobe that would, no doubt, contain her mother's clothes.
Lauren sighed heavily and entered the room, pushing open the box as she did so.
She sat it in the middle of the room and looked around.
She'd start with the bed.
Gently, she eased back the covers and bedsheets, folding them into a large square and laying them at the bottom of the big box. Her fingers trembled, but she clenched them into fists, willing herself to be strong.
She lifted the single pillow that she had shared with her mother. She brought it to her nose and inhaled. The scent that greeted her senses was one of a twenty-year-old period of idle dust. The heavy silence that had filled the house for all that time as everything in it sat unused was what she smelled, but lost amidst those wandering smells, she caught the trace... the faintest whiff of lilies.
"Momma..." Lauren whispered, her eyes closed, the pillow against her chest. She hadn't even realized she'd shed a tear until Grayson's voice broke the silence.
"You alright, Lauren?" he asked gently as he filled the doorway.
Lauren hurriedly dabbed at her eyes and sniffed back a tear before turning to him with a smile.
"Gray. Uh, yeah... I'm okay. Just need a moment."
He pursed his lips and nodded before leaving her to herself.
Lauren swallowed and put the pillow in the box.
That was it. She had cried enough, it was time to work.
Forcing herself through as she had unknowingly done through most of her life, Lauren set about clearing the room.
She approached the desk where her mother sat sometimes. Quiet, unsmiling. Her mother would often smile at her and tell her she loved her, but she never had any such words for anybody else.
Lauren began pulling open drawers.
There were four on each side and the top two on each of the sides were empty. She moved to the lower ones. The next one she drew open had her breath catching in her throat.
It was her bunny. Lauren laughed in disbelief as she pulled the stuffed bunny out of his cramped position in the drawer.
What had she called him? Mr. Rabbbit? "Mr. Carrot," she gasped, surprised she remembered and laughed at the silly name. "Oh, my God..."
Lauren studied the toy with a happy twinkle in her eye.
She'd play with this thing for hours when she was a child. It was an addiction, she thought.
With a smile and a shake of her head, she tossed him into the box before turning back to the drawers.
The next two drawers held crumpled up bits of faded paper and Lauren recognized her own childish sketches on them. She laughed at the one where she'd tried to draw her family. They looked more like carrots with eyes and wide, creepy smiles.
She put it all in the box and turned to the last drawer, pulling it carefully open. Lauren frowned at its contents.
Inside the drawer sat a hand-sized leather book. She picked it up and studied its covers on the back and front. Nothing, but black leather.
With trembling fingers she opened to the first page, her anxious eyes searching for a clue to what the book was about.
It was blank except for one word at the top right-hand corner.
"Catherine." it read.
Lauren sunk onto the bare mattress and frowned down at her mother's name, written so regally on that page.
Her mother had kept a dairy? Was it a diary in the first place?
With a dry throat, Lauren turned the page. The second page was full of writing and what it said made Lauren's skin turn cold.
"It’s hell... he says I oughtta say my prayers or I go to hell, but I say it’s hell I live in already. Who is God if He cannot hear me when I scream, only when I kneel and whisper? I oughtta kill him... if he touch me again, I oughtta kill him..."
Her wide eyes scanned the rest of the page. It was blank except for the writing in the middle. Had her mother written this? Who was 'he'?
Reading the words over again, she tried to make sense of it and failed.
Her heartbeat pounded against her rib cage and she felt her head spin. This wasn't making sense. Had somebody been trying to hurt her momma?
Lauren had a hand on her head, staring blankly ahead of her.
Her gaze jerked back to the leather book. She flipped the pages through and saw that almost each one of them was covered in writing.
She had to read this. She would read this journal and maybe it would give her clues about what happened all those years ago.
Lauren stared down at it, closed on her lap. Maybe it could prove Aaron Spencer’s guilt.
Her hands trembled as she lifted it and pushed it into the front pocket of her hoodie. She wouldn't let anybody know that she had this, she had to figure it out on her own.
With that final thought, she moved onto the wardrobe and cleared it, painfully folding every item of clothing that she remembered. It didn't take too long since her mother really didn't own much.
Her filling eyes forced her to blink back tears. Had her mother still been here, she would have made sure that she had every single thing she desired. She would have given her the best.
But she couldn't.
Refusing to dwell on it, Lauren dragged the box out of the now bare room and the guys moved in to get out the furniture.
Samantha smiled at her across the room and Lauren smiled back, letting them know she was okay.
It had gotten late by the time she got to the Reverend's room. Lauren sighed and grabbed a box, heading up the stairs. The rest were downstairs, sweeping out the dust and dirt from the now empty lower floor.
She reached the room and pushed open the door, letting herself in.
The room had little more than her mother's or her aunt's old room, but pops' bed was a lot bigger and so was his desk.
Lauren got to work, clearing his wardrobe and packing all the clothes and shoes into the box.
His desk was strangely empty. Lauren found nothing at all in the drawers and wondered why her grandfather hadn't at least kept a bible or some sermons in the drawers.
She shrugged and began taking down the long curtains that covered the windows.
She looked out of the window and down at the front yard. Pops must have had a great view of whoever entered and left his yard from here.
Handy for preventing two teenage daughters from sneaking boys in, wasn't it? Lauren scoffed a laugh out at her own thoughts. As if Aunt Abigail or her mom would bring in boys. Abigail, for one, would have frozen the poor fellows to death with one icy glare. As for her mom, Lauren didn't think that was her cup of tea.
Lost in her thoughts as she approached the bed, she wasn't looking and ended up bumping into the bed, her foot making a firm impact with one wooden leg.
The rickety bed shook and Lauren heard the sound of paper gliding against the floor. Suddenly a rectangular paper slipped out from under the bed, landing gently on Lauren's foot. She frowned down at it.
Crouching over, Lauren picked it up and turned it over. It wasn't just a paper, it was a photograph.
Lauren felt her eyes prickle with tears as she looked down at an image of a young pops with two little girls beside him. Lauren laughed as she immediately recognized Aunt Abigail's moody face. Then her gaze settled on the other girl with two black braids and big grey eyes. Her mother. Her mouth curved as she smiled down at the photograph. Finally, a beautiful photo of her family.
Lauren wiped away the tears, focused on committing everything about the photo to memory. Pops had been a rather strict looking man. He was tall with thinning black hair and dark eyes. He looked a little scary, but Lauren waved that away. Didn’t all priests look scary?
"Lauren?!" she heard Sam's voice. "Time to go!"
Lauren shoved the picture into her pocket and began dragging the box out. "Coming!" she yelled back.
Lauren pushed open the door and dragged the box through, not even once looking back toward the bed. Completely missing another little photograph that had slipped out from underneath the late Reverend's bed.
A little photograph that lay face up, its gruesome depictions seen only by the walls and the ceiling as Lauren turned her back on it.
She left the room, missing the thing that would have shattered everything she ever knew about her family.