Chapter 13: Moving Out and Moving In
A month later-
The sound of Sara's doorbell breaks her from her staring match with the closet. She blinks a few times and rushes to the door smiling at that man in front of her. "Hey stranger."
"Hey yourself. I brought coffee." Nick walks in, lifting the carton containing the filled cups- the steam swirling out the top.
"Mmhmm. It smells good." She closes the door behind her and sits on the only remaining thing in her bare living room. Nick hands her, her coffee and takes a seat on the empty cushion. "Are you gonna miss this place?" His eyes roaming her white walls; vacant of any signs that someone once lived here.
"Not really. There's no story behind it, no memories. I barley lived here. It was just a place to eat and rest my head." Her stare follows where Nick's left off; he reaches out an arm and pulls her to him.
"I know the feeling." They stay wrapped up in each other for a while, enjoying each other's close proximity; occasionally sipping the warm coffee.
"I still need help packing up my closet." The rumble of Nick's chest echoes into her ear. They stand up, fix their wrinkled clothing and head back into WW3, also known as Sara's bedroom.
Boxes, mimicking skyscrapers, cover every square inch of the hardwood floor. Her closet doors are flung open, clothes are thrown about haphazardly and empty hangers poke out from beneath the massive clutter. "What the hell is this?"
"My closet, I think."
"What happened? A nuclear blast?"
"No, I was going through my things trying to get rid of the clothes I don't wear and… this is what happened." Her hands splay out wide, showcasing her handy-work.
"I can see that. Did you get rid of anything?"
"A pair of shoes." Her guilty voice comes out sweet and innocent, her eyes wide and sorrowful.
"That's it?" Nick's voice rises like that of an annoyed father.
"Well-'' She gives him a shrug and turns back to her black hole. "I didn't exactly say I was finished did I?"
"Uh-huh. Well then, I guess we have a lot to do."
"Yup." They both heave a sigh and take a step towards the closet.
Three hours and four garbage bags later-
Nick loads up the back of his SUV with boxes and plastic bags of the things Sara has decided to keep. Her SUV is stuffed with the totes that didn't quite fit into his. The bags of clothing and furniture that Sara has no desire to keep, are left out for the Veterans to take back to Good Will. The tailgates are closed simultaneously and Sara follows Nick back to their apartment.
Warrick, Greg, and Tina are found waiting for them as they pull into the parking spaces. Nick honks the horn once to wake-up a dozing Greg and smiles when he jumps like a scared cat. Tina and Sara unload her car first and the guys unload Nick's, following them up the stairs. The actual move isn't hard at all, it's figuring out where everything goes that's tricky. After a few adjustments and some minor rearranging, Sara and Nick's stuff merged as if they were always meant to be that way. No one could tell where her 'junk' started and where his ended; a perfect puzzle. "Okay, who wants pizza?"
The pizza boxes lay strung across the carpet bear bottles littering the coffee table. "Okay, okay- now this was way before Warrick ever came to Vegas, I think. But anyway, we where in the locker room getting ready for a de-comp where I see this old black-and-white picture stickin' out of his locker. So, naturally I have snoop- sorry investigate. I pull it out and it's a picture of 'Rick with no hair, huge classes and the ugliest outfit I have ever seen. So when he comes back I, you know, casually throw the picture into the conversation and the shit-head flat out lies to me. He tells me the picture was from Halloween. So, I asked why he was in a snowsuit holding a shovel?" Nick's story earned him the death glare from 'Rick and shrieks of laughter from Tina. With her curiosity getting the better of her, she turns to Nick and asks, "What was he wearing?"
"It was a ratty looking snowsuit with holes in the crotch, a bent shovel and these army boots that looked like boats anchored to his feet. He had this striped/plaid scarf that, if I was him, I would have hung my-self with."
"Ha, ha Nick, you're so funny. I'll admit my outfit wasn't the greatest, but I had no choice. What mom wanted, mom got."
"So uh- honey, what color was this suit of yours?"
"In all honesty, it wasn't a snowsuit, it was a prisoner's jumpsuit and it was orange with numbers on the back to make it even more embarrassing."
"Did your dad tell you not to bend over?" Sara couldn't help it, the joke just rolled off her tongue. Nick coves his open mouth and tries not to laugh while Greg and Sara high-five each other, and Tina nudges her husband with her shoulder; enticing the laugh that she knows is there. Suddenly Nick just stops and watches as his tight-knit 'family' enjoy themselves. He's got Greg rolling on the floor while Warrick throws pillows at him, and Tina's trying to grab 'Rick's hand but can't get a grip long or strong enough. Then he's got Sara. When he lands on her, she's staring back at him. This is their first night in their apartment, their first memory, their first paragraph of the story. A story that each household treasures, it's one that tells newcomers the kind of people that live here; the kind of family that grows inside. It tells strangers how special each knick-knack is and why it's in the place it's in. It tells the people inside that they mean something to each other; the walls will hear arguments and the bed banging against it. It will hear dogs barking and one day, babies crying. The story doesn't end 'til the last person closes it. Sara slammed the book shut on her old life today. But the pages of her new life have fresh ink, and plenty of pages waiting for her.