“Good, mostly,” I said, dragging the pad of my finger down my sweating glass of iced tea. “It was time, with Matt. I’ve been a drone for too long, you know that. Jimmy is off to college, so it’s about time for me to be…well, me again. I don’t even know who me is, anymore, but it’s about time I found out.”
She nodded, her eyes crinkling a little at the corners. “I totally agree. You’d shut off for a while there. You can finally turn back on again and live for once. Make mistakes. Bang a few younger guys.” Her smile turned devilish. “Live a little! Actually, live a lot. I want stories.”
I gave her a sarcastic huff. She was happily married to her college sweetheart, but she would say anything to make me feel better. She wanted me to be happy. Always had. When everyone else was preaching about the sanctity of marriage and how could he?, she was asking if I remembered when I’d stopped smiling. She was the best friend a girl could have.
“I’m not looking for more stories. I’m looking for…” I paused, thinking about it. “I’m looking for adventure, I think. It feels like time is running out. It feels like I need to get my real life started, the sooner the better. Guys can wait.”
She bobbed her head, then took a sip of her coffee. “Definitely. But honestly, what I was really asking was…how’s it going with the parents?”
“Ugh!” I dropped my head, reminded of the morning. I’d gone on a walk to clear my head, and the instant I’d returned, my mom had asked why I’d taken down the poster on the ceiling. She’d wanted to know where she could get another of those “very pretty young men.” “At some point without my knowledge, she grabbed the cute outfit I’d worn yesterday and washed it. Except she didn’t care enough about the deed to see if it could be dried. She just went ahead and threw it in the dryer.”
“Oh no,” Diana said, her eyes twinkling with delight. She had always loved visiting my parents’ house and hearing crazy stories about them. Having normal parents with a normal house, she couldn’t relate.
“My cashmere sweater is two sizes too small, and the silk shirt is ruined.”
“No!”
I told her about my dad’s new addition to his morning routine.
“No!” She fell against the table in a fit of giggles. “What the hell?”
“I do not know.” I shook my head, wishing I could find it funny. “I really do not. But I can’t stay there. I can’t. It’s too much. All my mom does is wash dishes and read, and she stacks the books a mile high in my room. If there’s an earthquake, I’ll be crushed. Fire? Forget it. I’m toast. The whole place would be ablaze by the time I even opened my eyes. No wonder my brother only stayed for a couple months.”
She couldn’t contain the belly laughter. Or maybe she wasn’t trying.
“You clearly don’t see how dire this is,” I said.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She fought her smile. A fight she lost. “Sorry! But listen to this. My aunt called yesterday, asking if I knew anyone who would be a good fit for the caretaker role of Ivy House. What a coincidence, right? You’d be perfect for it. You wouldn’t need to stay with your parents, you’d have a job, and you’d get to go back to that nightmare house that you loved so much. I told her I’d ask you.” Her eyes twinkled. “Just think, no morning begonias.”
Memories came trickling back. I’d gone on a lot of vacations with her family. She was an only child and I loved to travel, so she got a playmate and I got to see new places. Win-win.
“That place in that small town near the Sierras? What were we…like, ten, right?” I asked.
“Yeah. The big old house in that tiny town.” She clucked her tongue. “What is the name of that town? I always forget. I think I block it out. It’s an Irish name. Murphys or O’Connors or Bollocks or… That big old house with all those rooms and that creepy gardener we thought was a vampire?” She shivered. “I hated that place. I still don’t understand why you liked it so much. You didn’t want to leave, remember?”
A mental image of the guy popped into my head. Pasty white, yellowed teeth, long face, loose jowls—
A sense of euphoria came over me out of nowhere, followed by a strange sense of urgency.
“Yeah,” I said, feeling a creeping smile curve my lips. More images came through, somewhat hazed with age. Big rooms with old-fashioned furniture, dark wallpaper, and a foreboding feeling that wasn’t exactly unpleasant. A strange trap door that led outside, only it was three floors up without a ladder. The attic floor had been covered with random silver gardening spikes we weren’t allowed to play with and a strange old-fashioned mechanical bow and arrow. I didn’t have many memories still clunking around my head from thirty years ago, but that house was hard to forget. “That place scared the hell out of you. You’re such a scaredy-cat.”