Chapter Four

It was hours later that I found myself unable to sleep.

After the officers left, my mind was whirring. There were funeral arrangements to make, loose ends that needed to be tied, and it seemed I would be left with the task of cleaning the dump my father called home.

I was dreading that. The day I left, I promised myself I'd never go back. Here I was, five short years later, breaking that promise.

I made lists of things I needed to do, people I needed to call. So much for taking a break before my classes began. Instead, I'd be stuck dealing with the fallout of Charlie's death.

And so it was hours later that I laid in bed, thinking.

I stared at the ceiling, wondering what it said about me that rather than mourning Charlie, I was pissed. Did it make me a bad person that above all I was pissed that once again Charlie was letting me down and leaving me all alone?

The simple truth was that I'd mourned the loss of my father years ago. The day I realized that Charlie was never going to stop drinking, was never going to be the father I needed, and that the only thing he cared about was forgetting the pain of the loss of my mother was the day I mourned him. I mourned the loss of a father I'd never really had, mourned the life I'd lived before my mother's death. I did my crying. I did my begging and pleading with God. There were no tears in me left to mourn my father.

So no, I rationalized, that did not make me a bad person.

…

"I'm so sorry for your loss."

This phrase was sincerely driving me insane. As were the people who'd come to the viewing of my father. The people congregated in the back of the room and talked quietly among themselves, sneaking peeks at the casket, at me.

It was annoying.

I was beginning to think that the viewing and the funeral were more for the friends than the family. All the details, the astronomical cost, dealing with everyone's fake sympathy… I just wanted these people to be gone, wanted to bury Charlie and be done with it.

It wasn't as if these people really even knew Charlie. Hell, none of these people had seen him in decades. The police officers at least attempted to maintain contact with my father once he resigned - for a while, at least. The others from his childhood, what did these people know of him?

And being forced to deal with their superficial sympathies and I'm sorry's was exhausting.

These people weren't here to say goodbye to Charlie; they were here to gossip.

"Excuse me, Miss Swan, do you have a moment?" One of Charlie's former co-workers placed his hand gently on my arm. Nodding, and turning to him, I took him in. He was older, and his appearance was weathered, like he'd seen it all. "I just wanted to let you know how sorry I am for everything you've been through. It doesn't seem fair that someone so young has had so much heartache."

Grasping his hand, a gave a half-hearted smile. "Thank you for your sympathy." I truthfully had no idea what to say. How do you reply to that?

"I know that you probably don't remember me, but Charlie and and I were pretty close before I retired. I remember he just adored you. You were young then. Full of energy. You look so much like your mother. I can see her eyes when I look at you."

The brisk exterior I'd put up broke just a little as he gazed at me. It had been so long since I'd heard stories of my mother.

"Thank you," I smiled more sincerely. "I miss her very much."

"As I'm sure you do, my dear. She was such a lovely spirit, so kind and very outgoing. I imagine that she and your father balanced each other out. He kept her feet on the ground while her head was off in the clouds."

I nodded my head as he seemed to be lost in his own memories.

"Silly me, I didn't even introduce myself. I'm Retired Officer Daniel Banner. Your father was just a rookie and your mother just barely pregnant with you when I first met them. If you'd like, I have some old photo books my wife made from when your mother was pregnant with you. You can come take a look at them, take whatever photos you'd like."

"Thank you, Officer Banner. I would greatly appreciate it." I cleared my throat against the strain of holding back tears.

I was touched that this man, who didn't know me from Eve, would offer his time and his treasures so I could remember a bit of my family.

"Good. I won't take any more of your time, now. I'm in the phone book, so you just look me up when you want to come over, okay?"

"Thank you. Seriously, I, um… it would really mean a lot to me."

"Anytime, honey."

…

Throwing open the front door to my apartment, I clunked down my purse on the table, directly on top of my financial documents and banking statements.

I was not looking forward to hashing out my account balance.

Before Charlie's death, I was feeling a little comfortable. I had enough money to get my money to purchase the necessities, a little for school books or anything class related, I had a cushion, albeit teeny, and I had a little bit saved.

When I looked at the cost of Charlie's funeral, I was fortunate that he had some money saved that he apparently never touched, or maybe he forgot about it. Either way, I was extremely grateful that he didn't get his drug-grubbing hands on that money and I was able to put that towards his funeral costs.

Pulling my high heels off, I walked towards my bedroom to change out of the dress I was wearing and into something more comfortable. If I had to go through my finances, I was damn well going to be comfortable doing it.

I reached awkwardly around to try and unzip the dress, the zipper fighting me the whole way down. Peeling the dress off, I tossed it in the hamper, too lazy to bother hanging it up. Taking off my pantyhose, I wondered why it was even necessary to wear them in the summer. I mean, let's be honest, it's fucking hot outside. My legs are already being shown off in a dress, so what's the point in covering them up with pantyhose? They're not protective, they're not for comfort, what are they actually for?

Trying to avoid putting a runner in my hose, I slipped them off and pulled open my dresser drawer full of undies and bras. Shoving my hose in the back, I realized that I was in need of some new undies. The elastic waistbands no longer had any elastic left and the lace was starting to get holes from being washed improperly.

I shook off the thought. If I didn't get my ass in gear and go work out my finances, I wouldn't be able to afford peanut butter let alone new underwear.

I pulled on a pair of yoga pants as I grabbed a camisole to toss on.

Walking over to my table, I put myself to work.

An hour and many curse words later, I realized that even with the surprise cash of Charlie's, I was still going to be cutting it too close. I would need a job if I had any hope of making it through this semester. The unexpected expenditure of Charlie's funeral pretty much depleted the money I'd been saving up.

It looks like I'd be finding myself a job. However much I protested the idea, I knew it was inevitable.

Resigning myself to start searching tomorrow, I gathered myself to stand after organizing my files. Walking towards the fridge to grab a drink, a knock sounded from the front door.

No fucking way. Last time there was a knock on that goddamn door, it fucked everything up.

Not bothering to put on a happy face, I yanked open the door.

"Hello?"

This is a fucking joke. No way I just got ding dong ditched. Poking my head out and looking to the right, I didn't see anyone. I began to take a step out of the threshold to check the left when I tripped over something.

Looking down, I found a sealed box. Looking around again with squinted eyes, I noticed no one. Sighing, I dropped down to pick up the box.

Heavy fucker, huh? With my luck thus far, I'd probably pull a muscle lugging this sucker in. Heaving it in, I set it down on the table I'd just cleaned up not three minutes ago.

Plopping it down, I let a gust of air out and stared at it.

Though rationally I realized it was probably like some casserole from some nubby funeral attendee, or even a photo book from Officer Banner, I was pretty sure no one knew where I lived and just had a weird feeling.

Grabbing a knife from the utensils drawer, I steeled myself to open the mystery package.

AN: First, ahh I'm terrible and I'm so sorry! Unfortunately RL kicked my ass last week. I rushed to throw this up here so you guys had something, so please just ignore any grammar problems.

Second, thank you for all who have followed, favorited and reviewed this story. I appreciate it greatly and will do my best to get the next chapter up as soon as I can.

As always, I'd love to hear your feedback. :)