Wicked Little Sins

Charley

Charley sat outside her childhood home. Everything was the same at the yellow Victorian-style home where she'd spent her childhood—the same black iron fence, the same hanging flower pots. However, now the flowers were dead and hung limply over the edge. It was clear her mom was gone. She'd have never let them, or the once-neatly-trimmed bushes, go unattended.

She got out of her car, gazing up at the tower-like structure that had been her bedroom. She could see the butterfly sticker, that she'd adorned the window with years ago, still remained. The cold air nipped at her nose as she stood admiring her old home.

Charley plucked at the bush, dropping loose leaves to the ground. She became concerned seeing a dozen or so newspapers on the porch. That's odd, she thought as she rang the doorbell. She kneeled down to collect them, dropping several before she finally had them all.

Charley rang the doorbell one more time before turning the doorknob to try and let herself in. She wasn't sure if her key still worked.

Groaning in annoyance, she dropped all the newspapers at her feet, shoving the key in the lock. After a few moments of great effort, the door gave up its fight, letting her inside.

She turned up her nose at the musty odor that greeted her as she stepped inside. It was dark and way too quiet to be her home. Walking into the foyer, she saw several photos hung on the floral wallpaper, each child's picture beautifully displayed in an oak frame. Charley ran her fingertips across her own photo. Her hair was shorter in her senior picture, but she still looked about the same. She pulled off her high heels and placed them perfectly against the wall by the old coat rack. She wiggled out of her jacket, hanging it carefully. Making her way down the hallway and into the kitchen, she gasped in shock at the mountain of crusty dishes and the overflowing trash.

She would tackle that right after she found her father. She knew he had to be around. His truck was sitting in the driveway.

"Dad?" She called out, heading for the dining room. The place setting lay untouched and a bit dusty. He probably hadn't used the dining room since Mom died.

Charley couldn't believe how dirty the house had gotten in just a few weeks. It devastated her to see such disarray. She was a neat freak, just as her mother had been.

Going into the family room, she discovered him asleep and snoring away in his recliner, his hand above his head. She smiled at how peaceful he looked. For once he appeared calm, not miserable or upset.

She ran her hands through his graying hair as he slept, his glasses hanging halfway off his face. He was still the same old dad, a little rounder than the last time she'd seen him, but the same.

"Dad," she said quietly, shaking him a little. It only took him a moment to open his eyes, his face turning to sheer joy to be staring into the eyes of his second oldest child.

"Charley Rae, I'm so glad to see you," he said, yanking the recliner handle to sit vertical. He stood immediately and wrapped his arms tightly around her. She rested her head on his shoulder, lingering in the moment of his hug and holding on tight.

"I'm glad to see you too, Dad," she insisted. He finally released her, looking her over carefully. He pushed her hair off her shoulders, a smile still on his face. Charley wondered if what she saw in him was indeed happiness or relief. She knew she'd probably be the one to fill in for Mom. She assumed he knew that as well.

"You look beautiful as ever," he said, gushing over her.

"Thank you. How is everything going, Dad?" she asked, sitting on the couch, noticing several beer cans littering the coffee table next to one of her mom's magazines.

"Things are hard," he said with a sigh.

Ned Harper was nearly sixty-one and had never imagined losing his beautiful Sandy. He didn't know how he would go on without her. She was the love of his life. She'd given him four beautiful children and a lovely home full of life and laughter. And now she was gone.

He stared at his Charley, remembering her life here. She'd been the most studious of his children and everything a mother could wish for. Ned just adored her in spite of her stuffy ways. He wished his sense of humor had worn off on her.

As glad as he was to have Charley home, he hoped she wouldn't be too eager with her questions surrounding her mother's death. The less he talked about it, the better. He'd suffer in silence. He knew that's what Sandy would have wanted.

"Just remember, Dad, I am here to help. I took a couple weeks off of work and everything. And the first thing I am going to do is clean up the kitchen," she said smiling, as she hurried off. It was obvious he wasn't ready to talk about anything. She would let him revel in the homecomings.