Mrs Hansen || A Lloyd Hansen Story

A Knock At The Door

Time goes by so slowly when you have nothing to do and no one to spend it with.  Rebecca was feeling this deeply as her days dragged on.  She hadn't returned to work; she just wasn't ready despite her parents trying to push her.  Hazel and McKenna too, they wanted her to put on her big girl pants and get back out into the world.  But why? And what for?  What was out there for her now.  Nothing.  Alan understood, on the odd days where he would drop by and fix or paint something, Rebecca would confide in him.

He would tell her.

"You shouldn't have to rush yourself, when it's time you'll know."

Rebecca woke early, the sun rays that had squeezed through the slats of her white wooden shutters warming her face.  Her first thought was that the house was beginning to smell like home.  The pain fumes and new carpet smell had somehow disappeared over night and now it was strangely contenting.

It was the first morning that she had awoken and hadn't immediately reached across the bed for Lloyd.  The habit of him had left her.  That was saddening. And when she realised it, her heart began to ache again.  It was a different kind of ache, another change in learning to live without him. It had turned to a numb aura of pain, not necessarily excruciating, just there.  Refusing to leave or subside. 

"Good morning!" Doreen called, slipping into the hallway of her house.

Rebecca had just stepped out of the shower, rolling her eyes at the sound of her mother's unusually chipper voice.

"Mama, the key under the mat is for emergencies only." She called downstairs, carefully walking from the bathroom to her bedroom, trying not to slip on the hardwood floors.

Rebecca muttered incoherently to herself, wishing that she hadn't told her parents about that spare key. She threw on some jeans and a mint green boxy t-shirt.  She had thought she better put on some socks because her mother would have something to say about her traipsing around the house in bare feet and the last thing, she needed right now was to give her mother a reason to pick a fault.

"Coffee?" Doreen asked working her way around Rebecca's immaculately laid out kitchen.  The scent of fresh paint still lingering on the sage green cabinets.

Sitting at the little white wooden breakfast table Rebecca sighed, "Sure." She didn't feel comfortable having her mother here.  She felt like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop, the back handed compliments to begin.

"This is a really beautiful space you have created here, sweetheart." Doreen said as she sat a mug of coffee down.

The pet name struck Rebecca's heart like a dagger.  She reeled herself backwards, pulling herself in, trying her best not to react.

"Thank you mama." She flickered.

Sitting across, Doreen narrowed her eyes, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Rebecca sniffled; faking a smile, "Paint fumes, I think.  They keep pricking my eyes." She lied.

A content look settled itself across Doreen's face as her eyes wandered around the room. 

"It really is beautiful in here.  It's missing something though.  Someone to share it with perhaps?"

Rebecca had to give it to her mother, she had lasted a whole thirty-seven minutes before parting with some unwanted opinions.

"Really?" Rebecca furrowed her brows.

"What? Isn't it time to get out and find yourself a nice boy?"

"I don't want to."

"Why not? A beautiful girl like you, you should have someone to share your life with."