Ignite (Ignite 1)

Fuck my life. Just the idea of having to talk about him sent a thousand needles through my heart, and I could feel every prick of every damn figurative needle penetrating deep enough that it grew harder to breathe. I rolled down the car window and inhaled the cool air. I was bordering on an anxiety attack, and when this happened a million things went wrong with my body. I’d have a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, and my chest would constrict painfully, and then I’d get the runs. Nothing more lovely than having to excuse myself to the toilet because of my emotions flailing in a million different directions push starting my digestive system. Sexy…

She said her house wasn’t that far at all, yet we’d been on the road for almost twenty minutes and nearing a brand new housing division. I ogled the homes as we passed them, all looked relatively the same: large and contemporary styled, with tall and wide front windows that overlooked a manicured yard with front porch columns.

Then her car slowed and signalled to the right as she turned into the driveway of a massive red brick home. Holy shmaholies.

She opened the garage and parked inside while I drove to one side of the more than accommodating driveway. I turned off the engine and stared in disbelief at the gorgeously new home with manicured gardens consumed by carnations of all kinds.

The garage closed and a few moments later her front door opened and she gestured me in with a big smile on her face. I stepped out of the car and walked over to her unable to suppress a giggle. “Wow, Lucinda. Sure beats the ghetto we used to live in, huh?”

She laughed. “They weren’t entirely bad. Only moved in here two years back. It was just built. It’s a little far away from the shops, so I lied to you about that.” She flashed me a mischievous smile. “But they’re going to be building a lot around here, shops and schools and what have you. Now come on in. We’ll sit in the backyard and enjoy the outdoor a bit.”

I walked in, equally blown away by the entrance foyer that accommodated a wide staircase and other closed rooms. I followed her over the hardwood floors taking in the neutral colours of the house. It was modern, and she left the place entirely simplistic. Nothing was crowded. I deliberately looked away from a photo of Jaxon on the hallway to the living room. He was about thirteen in it, riding a bike with his hair in the wind. Get your shit together.

The living room was huge and elegantly filled with leather couches, a glass coffee table, massive flat screen TV with all the works of surround sound system and movies stacked up on a shelf beside it. On the wall above one couch was an assortment of small photo frames hung in a diagonal direction depicting photos of her and Jaxon. I briefly caught a glimpse of the last two of me: one of Jaxon and me on Prom day, and the second when I was young and sporting a short do. It warmed my heart seeing how she’d not banished me from her home after my absence.

She walked to the sliding doors that backed a large backyard. Outside there was a wide dark brown deck with an inbuilt screened in gazebo and a lounge setting within its enclosed space. I’d never seen anything like it. We walked out and I crossed my arms against the chill in the air as I also took notice of a huge in-ground pool.

Lucinda opened the screen door that led into the gazebo and we walked inside. “Sit down,” she said. I took a seat on a comfy cushioned outdoor chair, placing my hands atop of the glass table. I watched her turn on two patio heaters on opposite ends of the gazebo. “I’m going to get us some snackies. Be right back, darling.”

A couple minutes later she returned with a big tray of crackers, cheeses and dips. There was also a jug of water and two glasses. She set them down in front of me and took a seat next to mine. She situated herself so that she was facing me, and then began pouring each glass with water.

“So,” she started, flashing me her warmest smile, “how are you coping with your mother’s passing?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, tracing the glass rim with my finger. “I’m not sure how to feel about it all. You know what she was like. I’m numb because I have all these bad memories, and then I’m regretful because apparently she’d made a change in her life. Did you see her at all?”

“Not often. I wouldn’t talk to her or anything. Every time she saw me, she’d turn the other way, like she was trying to avoid me or something. I guess it was because she felt guilty about what she’d done to you and she knew how involved I was with you. Last time I saw her was at the pumpkin fair in early September, and she was with some young woman. She looked happy.”

Rita. This young woman she was with was most likely her. I was growing curious about who she was and just why she had such a hold on my mom.

“Do you know anything about my dad?” I asked.

“No, nothing at all. He’s been gone awhile.”

“Didn’t show up at the funeral?”

“No. Well, I mean, I didn’t see him. I imagine if he had showed up he would have caused some kind of scene.” She shook her head and twisted her lips in distaste.

When I didn’t respond, she brightened up and reached over to touch my hair. “Now, look at this hair. You’ve grown it even longer than I remember. So beautiful, Sara. Really, you must get all the heads turning your way.”

I scoffed. “Hardly. I’m a homebody. I barely see the light of day.”

“Yeah, I believe that. You’re quite pale.”

“So how are you doing? Tell me all.” I changed the subject because I couldn’t stand to see the look of concern on her face.

She shrugged. “Meh, you know. My life’s always been tame, lame and no game.”

I chuckled. “Untrue.”

“Very true, especially when I didn’t hear from you all these years.”

I bit my lip and held my breath, looking away from her. Wait for it. She’s going to ask.

“Don’t worry,” she suddenly said, catching my emotion. “I won’t be asking you any of those kinds of questions. I know you’re not ready to open up, and I understand that. Let’s just enjoy each other’s company, okay?”

I blinked back tears and nodded.

“Good. About your question, I’m alright, but I have missed you enormously. I’m still a beautician, and business has been kind to me.”

I gestured to the house. “That much kind to you?”

“Well, no, not that much.”