April Showers [Unfaithful Rewritten]

17 | feast

17
feast

Thanksgiving came a few days later, and like I promised my mother I would do — I drove up with the kids to New Hampshire to spend it with her. And judging by Mom's expression when she opened the front door, I'd made the right decision.

"Oh, goodness," She scooped Celia and Joseph into her arms, laughing slightly. "You all just keep getting bigger and bigger whenever I see you."

"Children have a tendency to do that." I replied with a wry smile.

Mom glared up at me, children still in her arms. "I consider it a refreshing change since clearly nothing has changed with you. You're just as sarcastic as ever."

"Touché." If only you knew.

I'd refrained from telling her about pursuing the divorce because I felt that it was a discussion we needed to have in person. Granted, Thanksgiving may not have been the best time, but I wasn't sure when else in the near future I would have the opportunity.

I was somewhat surprised when Mom simply ushered us all into the house, without even asking or looking confused as to where Nate was. However, that suspicion died upon entry to the realm of warmth as the delightful aroma of turkey and gravy entered my nostrils.

The home itself was as beautiful as I remembered. It was about the same size as mine, boasting one or two more bedrooms and bathrooms here and there. On the ground floor alone, adjacent to the foyer we currently stood in, laid the living room and family room on the left and right respectively. From the living room there was a staircase leading upstairs, and past there sat the dining room. On the side with the family room, the connecting kitchen led straight to a bathroom, and between that and the dining room was another little sitting room behind which contained a sliding door to the backyard. Upstairs, there were only various bathrooms and bedrooms, with which I immediately headed with our suitcases, because we would be staying overnight.

As I left, I heard Mom ask the kids in a soft voice, "How's school going for the two of you? Celia, don't you roll your eyes at me."

"But school is boring." I heard Celia complain.

"I like school." Joseph remarked quietly, yet thoughtfully.

The rest of the conversation became intelligible as I climbed the remaining stairs whilst struggling with the luggage. On the top floor, I placed Celia and Joseph's things into a separate guest bedroom, and trudged onward to the room at the end of the dimly lit hall — my room.

I pressed my palm against the wooden door, pushing it open without much force. The lights were off, but with a quick flick of the switch everything brightened with a faintly yellow glow, and my smile began to fade.

The room was large for a bedroom, but exceptionally plain to the ordinary eye. Anyone who walked inside would say they saw blue walls, a queen-sized bed, and a few drawers, maybe even a closet. When you'd never lived and breathed every inch of a given space, you had a tendency to see past its unique quirks.

I saw the same periwinkle walls that I looked at every night for eighteen years. The one behind the bed had a fair amount of battle scars: fingernail scratchings, pencil smudges, and a brief hint of lipstick danced around the area right behind the head of it. I could practically hear my teen angst at Mom's pestering of the spots, feel the pout on my lips and the glare in my eye as I looked up at the ceiling, waiting for night to pass. Not that there was much to look at — just a white rotating ceiling fan which, to this day, clung tightly to the ceiling.