CHRISTMAS DAY, 1993, ABERDEEN, WA
A DELICATE LAYER of snow, slightly dried out from the crisp winter air, crunched beneath Lindy's sneakers as she walked up the pathway towards her past.
In a turn of events, she found herself standing in front of her childhood home. The same home that she had declared she would never go back to, not even if the devil himself attempted to coerce her into doing so. The devil being Lee, of course.
But there she was anyway, wearing her giant oversized sweater with jeans and carrying only her purse. She had just come from Trae's house, where she had celebrated the holiday with her niece. Hannah was a cherubic baby with rosy cheeks and a smile that could break any heart, but not even she could settle Lindy's spite for what she was about to do.
As much as she wanted to feel sadness knowing Lee was sick, all Lindy could remember was every time he had hissed insults her way or threatened to maintain harsh control over her life. She thought back to the night that she had learned her mother had died. She'd always known it had been Lee's fault. His drunk stupor had surely been cause for the removal of the best thing in her life.
With struggle, Lindy continued walking up the front door until she was under the edge of roofing. The steps leading up had been even more creaky than usual, and Lindy sensed that upkeep of the house had gone awry.
This is going to be a fucking disaster, she thought.
She was going to have to try very hard not to throttle Lee if her animosity grew too strong.
Lindy pressed the doorbell, hearing its chime inside. Nothing happened until a muffled, familiar voice called out to her.
"Door's unlocked!"
So now he's not even answering the door by himself, Lindy's mind seethed as she rolled her eyes, pushing the door open. Lazy ass.
"Who is it?" Lee yelled from the living room. She could not see him, but the television was on, and it was all too easy for Lindy to guess that Lee was sitting in his chair. As far as she could tell, his behavior, nor the interior of the house itself, had changed.
Instead of answering him, Lindy welcomed herself inside, setting down her bag in the kitchen and feeling an awful shiver when she took in her surroundings. Everything looked the same. The house still held every bitter recollection that she had tried so hard to forget.
"Trae, is that you?"
Coming closer, Lindy noticed the hoarseness of Lee's voice. She couldn't see his head over his usual recliner — he must have been slunk down into the seat.
She folded her arms and entered the living room, walking in silently and rounding around the chair Lee had sat in all throughout her early life, yelling orders and degrading her.
What she saw nearly made her knees buckle.
It was Lee in the chair alright, except this was a new Lee, a Lee that Lindy did not recognize right away. She had to look closer to gauge that the crumpled figure of the man curled up in her father's chair was actually her father.
This was not how Lindy had remembered him. Lee had always been rather burly, standing tall with thick limbs that he'd layered with muscles from his job in the lumber industry. She guessed that some women may have found him handsome, with his wavy head of hair and strong chin.
But that picture of the man in her head no longer existed.
Before her was an entirely new person, shrunken under the weight of illness. Lee's once tanned, broad face was thin and jagged with the outline of his bones. Even his eyes were sunken in, surrounded by the grayish hue of his skin.
