Home Sweet Home
Ruthless Bunny
Wednesday AfternoonJake smiled and beat time on the steering wheel of his car as he cruised down Howard Drive. He was returning from his office. The boxes containing the remains of his consulting practice were in the back seat. Just some files that he needed to keep for tax purposes. Everything else he ditched in the dumpster at the back of the building. He looked around at the familiar houses. In just two weeks he would be driving down a different looking street, none of the green lawns and white fences of suburban Maryland. Not even the scrubby lawns and ranch houses of Texas. The new landscape was a combination of desert terrain and flashing lights. "Las Vegas, here I come."
His attention meandered to two kids high-tailing it up the street -- one blond, one dark. They certainly looked as though the devil were after them. A plume of smoke rose from the back of a house just a half a block away. Jake stopped the car in front of the house in time to hear the explosion. It startled him. He fumbled around with his cell phone and dialed 911. After three attempts he heard ringing.
"911, what is your emergency?" The operator answered.
"There's been an explosion and I think a fire! Here! On Howard Drive!" Jake screamed into the phone, pumped by adrenaline and fear.
"Sir, do you have an address?" The operator was used to dealing with people at the most terrifying moments of their lives, she knew to stay calm and to keep the caller calm.
Jake looked around. There was a huge sculpture in the yard blocking his view. He pulled up a hair and read the number on the side of the house. "111 Howard Drive," he told the operator.
"Is there anyone in the house? Is anyone hurt?" She asked.
Jake got out of the car and approached the house, there was another explosion from the back, so he got back into his car, "did you HEAR that?"
"Yes sir, I did. I've got the fire department responding right now. Did you see anyone in the house?"
Jake's heart was racing. He saw some of the neighbors who were home early in the afternoon, standing on their doorsteps watching the blaze. Flames climbed up the rear of the house and ignited the roof. "No, I saw a couple of kids running up the street earlier, but I don't see anyone in the house. I hope everyone's okay." There was something familiar about the house. He had been there before… "Oh My GOD! That's Jane and Trent's house!"
He heard sirens and saw the fire trucks coming down the street. "I hear the sirens sir, do you think you'll be okay?" The operator asked.
Jake nodded, and then said, "Yes, I guess so." He put the car in gear and drove up a couple of houses, so the trucks would have room to do their job. "Thank you for your help."
"Thank you for reporting it sir." The operator went on to the next emergency.
Jake sat and watched as the fire fighters jumped out of their trucks. They hooked up the hose to the fireplug and started to douse the fire. He remembered the night that an accident in the kitchen started a fire at his house. He remembered how worried he was about his family, and worried about the Lanes in turn.
The fire moved rapidly, gutting most of the house by the time the fire fighters had controlled it. An hour later the hoses were being rolled up. Jake approached the Captain. "So, was anyone in the house?"
The Captain coughed and shook his head. "Nope. Thank goodness. You know these folks?"
Jake sighed, "yeah. They're like family."
"Too bad. Do you have a number where we can reach anyone? I'd think they'd like to know what happened."
Jake rubbed the back of his head. "Well, my daughter lives with their son in Boston. I don't have a number for anyone locally. Except at the house." He motioned towards the charred ruin. " I don't suppose that would be useful." He pondered a minute. "Wow, that's going to be a rough call to make."
The Captain clapped Jake on the shoulder. "Yeah. Imagine finding something like this out over the phone."
Just then an old Volvo rolled up to the curb. A frowsy blond woman, in her thirties jumped out, losing a sandal in the process. "What's going on? Where are my kids? What happened to my stuff?"
She appeared distressed, rather than hysterical. Jake approached her. "Are you…" he struggled for the name, "Summer?"
"Yes, do I know you?"
"Trent lives with my Daria," he explained.
"Oh. Right." She looked at the smoldering ruins. "My kids are fine aren't they, and I'm guessing about five miles away?"
Jake nodded. "A blond and a dark haired kid, around twelve and thirteen?"
Summer sighed, "That would be them. Damn." She attempted to walk towards the house.
The Captain stopped her. "It's still hot in there, and it's not safe. What exactly was in the basement?"
Summer laughed mirthlessly, "a kiln, old paint, rags soaked with turpentine and a leaky gas water heater. Trying to determine the cause of the blaze?" Her tone was ironic.
The Captain wrote something on his clipboard. "Well, it's not all that important right now. We'll have the inspector come out here. You'll want a report for the insurance."
"Insurance," she repeated, visibly doubting the likelihood of there being insurance on the house.
Jake hugged her around her shoulders. "Do you need to call anyone? Your folks? You can use my phone."
She thought for a moment. "Yeah, that would be nice." She took the proffered Nokia and dialed. "Serena, you'll never believe this. The kids burned the house down." There was a pause. "Yeah, took off again. I'll have to report them. Again. Can I crash with you until I can figure something out? Great." She handed the phone back to Jake. "I'm going to be with my friend until…I don't know, until whenever. You've got my number stored in there. Can you call Jane and Trent for me?"
Jake felt sad. "Sure. We'll do that. What about your folks?"
She started the engine, "they're in an Ashram in Arizona. I think Jane has the number." She began pulling out and then suddenly remembered something, "oh, don't worry about the kids. I'll let the cops know they ran away." The Volvo squealed as she floored it, taking the right turn on Barton Drive fast enough for the back end to fishtail.
"There goes the Mother of the Year." The Captain shook his head disapprovingly, "can I see that number? I need it for my report."
Jake showed him the display. "Man, just when I was feeling so good."
"I know what you mean Buddy. Other than the total destruction of this family's home, this was a real pretty day. Oh well, we've got to get back. Why don't you give me your number; in case we need more information or something." He held out the clipboard and pen to Jake.
He absently took it and wrote down his home and cell numbers. "I guess I'll be the one letting the other kids know about this."
"Keep the faith." The Captain offered as he climbed into his truck.
Jake nodded in agreement, "Yeah, that's about all I can do." He got back in his car and drove the few blocks to his house.
He found Helen packing in the kitchen. She had been paring down the contents to a few manageable boxes. "Hi Jakie!" she greeted him, "do you know why we have three fondue pots?" she asked rhetorically indicating the large pile of household items that were not going to make the move to Nevada.
He was still troubled by his adventure. "I just came from Howard Drive. There was a fire."
"Oh how awful." Helen continued to wrap dishes.
"It was the Lane's house. Burned to the ground." He went to the fridge for a bottle of water. Suddenly his throat felt parched by smoke.
"Oh my God! Is anyone hurt?" She stopped wrapping and rubbed his back. Jake was easily traumatized.
"No, but Summer's two kids ran away. We've got to let the kids know. We've also got to call the parents. They're in some Ashram somewhere." He flopped down into one of the chairs in the dinette.
Helen sat with him at the table. "I'll call Daria and let her break the news to Trent and Jane. Should we invite them down for the weekend? We're a bit upside-down here, but maybe they'll want to come back. Besides, we need Daria and Quinn to go through their stuff." Helen was on a mission to pare down to the bare essentials. Jake was still a bit shell-shocked. "Honey, you seem really unhappy. Why don't you draw a nice bath and later I'll take you out for dinner."
"Okay. I just really feel bad for those kids. They've lost their childhood home." He seemed to be imagining some personal trauma, rather than that of the Lane children. At Helen's urging, he headed upstairs. A bath would be nice, he smelled like a clambake.
Helen took a breath and reached for the phone. She hoped that someone was home; this was not news that you left on an answering machine. After three rings Daria answered.
"Hello?"
"Honey, this is Mom. I'm afraid I've got some bad news." She tried not to be too melodramatic; she didn't want to alarm Daria. "Everyone here is fine."
Daria sighed in relief. "Okay, so what's the bad news?"
"There's been a fire at the Lane's house. The whole thing burned down. No one got hurt, but Courtney and Adrian have run away. Your father was there for the whole thing." Helen continued to wrap as she spoke.
Daria looked over at Trent, who was eating a Pop Tart and watching television. "The whole thing? Gone? Wow." She tried to gauge how Trent would take this news.
"I'll leave it to you to tell Trent and Jane, but no one has a number for their parents. Summer thinks they're at an Ashram. Do you think Trent has a number?"
Daria moved into the kitchen, hoping to keep the conversation low enough for Trent not to hear. "No, but Jane might. I can call you back with that information."
"Okay. We thought you might want to come down this weekend. Your father would like to see you, and I'd like you to go through whatever you've got stored here and either trash it or take it home with you." Helen took a group of mugs to the pile of things to be donated to Goodwill.
"That might be a good idea." Daria opened the fridge, she didn't want anything, she just wanted to be distracted. "Scorch the earth and all of that."
"Don't be so dramatic. You act like we've sold Tara. You only lived here for three years. Besides, you've got more room than we do to store things." Helen was ever the pragmatist.
"Yes. We'll come down. All of us. I'll RSVP for everyone right now." Daria picked up a yogurt smoothie, shook it and then thought better of it and put it back in the fridge. She wasn't really hungry.
"Great. We'll see you then." Helen hung up.
Daria thought about how she would break this news to Trent. So far as she knew, the house on Howard Drive was the only place he had ever lived before moving to Boston. She didn't know the feeling. She had moved so frequently that when anyone asked her where she was from, she got confused. She wondered what he would feel about being told that his home was gone.
Daria figured the more direct that better. "Trent, I've got something to tell you."
Trent turned towards her, momentarily wondering if it was 'turn off the TV' important. Judging by the look on her face, it was. He clicked the remote. "Is anything wrong?"
She sat down beside him on the sofa and took his hand, "there's been a fire at your house in Lawndale. No one's hurt, but the house is gone."
It took a minute or two for this information to register with him. "A fire?"
"Yes. It happened this afternoon. Courtney and Adrian were home, but apparently ran away in the confusion."
Trent tried to feel something. He was conflicted. He was sad and resentful at the same time.
"So what was it? The kiln? A smoldering roach? Two curious kids left unattended?" He couldn't hide the bitterness.
"I don't know. Apparently my Dad was there for the whole thing. Mom thinks it would be good for all of us to come down this weekend." She continued to hold his hand.
Trent pursed his lips, "Yeah, I guess that would be good. Take one last look at the place before…" He didn't know what. Before it was bulldozed? Before it was rebuilt? Before it was abandoned?
"There's more. We've got to tell Jane and your parents." Daria waited. There would either be an explosion, or resignation.
"Of course. I'll tell Jane. She'll probably know where Mom and Dad are." Resignation.
Daria hugged him, "I'm sorry."
He hugged back, "It's okay. It's not like I ever planned to go back there."
"Well, it still sucks."
"Sucks is the appropriate word. Jane's going to be upset." He got up and scouted around for his keys.
"You going over there?"
"Yeah, somehow I think she'll want to hear it in person."
Trent turned down the stereo in the mini-van. Now did not seem the appropriate time to listen to Incubus. He thought about his 'home'. For years it resembled his prison. The inmates might change, but eventually everyone was a recidivist. Someone's life would hit a snag and they'd come to Lawndale to sulk and lick their wounds. Trent tried to remember the last time anyone arrived home just to visit. A few years back it seemed that everyone's life went in the ditch, and for the first time in at least a decade, the entire family was together. He couldn't get out of there fast enough. He smiled a wry smile. He had gone to Daria's.
He pulled up to Jane and Joe's apartment. He drove around the block a few times looking for parking, he finally found a space between the Bus Stop and fire plug that might pass for legal; if the cop writing the ticket looked at it sideways.
Jane was sitting on the stoop of her building sketching. "Hey, what brings you to this neck of the woods. Slumming?" Jane lived in a working class neighborhood, at least five years away from gentrification. It might have been shabby around the edges, but hardly a slum.
"No. I've got some bad news and I thought you'd want to hear it in person."
She sighed. "So what is it?"
"The house in Lawndale burned down." He sat next to her, ready to dispense a hug if she needed one.
"Wow. I don't know how to feel about that." She dropped her pencil and shook her head, not wanting to believe.
"Yeah. Daria's dad watched the whole thing. Courtney and Adrian." He abbreviated it; she could fill in the blanks.
"Oh. So playing with a lighter? Left the oven on? The kiln?" She speculated.
"I don't know. Does it matter?" He tied his bootlace.
"No, I guess not. The house is gone." She was silent for a moment. "I guess we'll never have another family home."
"Did we even have that one?"
"You know, it was good for awhile. I remember times when Mom and Dad would have their friends over. All of those hippies sleeping in the living room. Wasn't there a Christmas in there where we were all together?" Jane leaned back against the top step, trying to conjure up a memory that matched her idea of what her home represented.
"I remember when I lived in the tent in the backyard. It was metaphorical." He realized that he was wallowing; he was there to be strong for her, not to diminish her grief.
"I suppose. For some weird reason I feel like I want to go back. I need to see it to believe it." She grew emphatic.
"Daria and I are driving down this weekend. You want to come?" He got up and helped her up.
"Yeah. I guess. We're staying at Daria's?" She dusted off her butt and bent over to pick up her supplies. "Who's going to watch the pool hall?"
"I'll get Kevin."
"You're going to let Kevin do it? I thought you were getting smart about this."
"How about Kevin and Lisa? Do you think she'd want a couple of shifts?" Trent realized that he now had to think about the business.
"Don't worry, I'll take care of it. Pick me up after school on Friday." She opened the door to the building. "No, pick me up at about noon. I want to see it at sunset."
Jane went into her house and sat on her sofa and looked around the living room. The art on the walls, the furniture that she had rescued from various sidewalks on trash day, the curtains she had sewn, even the entertainment center that Joe spent four hours building. While most college kids just lived in a space, Jane had made a home. Everything dusted, polished and carefully arranged. Was it like her house in Lawndale had been? No, these were her things; this was her home.
She went to the roll-top desk in the corner and found the last number she had for her parents. She believed that it was a cell phone number, but there was no real way to know. She dialed, hoping that she'd get an answer.
"Hello?"
"Mom?" Jane could hear a loud murmur of activity in the background.
"Summer?"
"No, it's Jane," she identified herself, it was generally thought that she and her sisters all sounded alike, but there was something troubling about her mom not knowing that it was her.
"Hi Jane! What an unexpected treat! How are you?" Amanda was genuinely delighted to hear from her youngest. It had been awhile since Jane had called her.
"I'm fine, everyone's fine, but I do have some bad news." Jane felt sure that her mother would be crushed to hear about the fire.
"Oh? What's happened?" Amanda's voice conveyed curiosity, not panic.
Jane sighed, her mom was so much better in her imagination than in reality. "We think that Courtney and or Adrian started a fire."
"A fire? Where?" Amanda still seemed more interested in getting information than into jumping to an obvious conclusion.
"The house. There was a fire in the house." Jane grew exasperated, "Mom, the house has been burned down to the ground. Courtney and Adrian have run away, we don't know where. I'm going down there on Friday, to see if anything can be salvaged. I guess you and dad will need to go back to Lawndale to deal with this."
There was a pause, "I wish I could, but I've got a show opening this weekend." Another expectant pause.
Jane realized that her mom was just going to let this go, just like she let Trent go, just like she let Jane go, just like she let everything go. "So what are you going to do about it? You can't just leave a burned out shell. I'm sure there's some kind of arrangement that needs to be made. Demolish what's left, file an insurance claim, Mom, you can't just leave it for someone else to take care of. It's your house."
"Jane, don't make such a big deal. It was a place we lived. Your father and I aren't materialistic like that. We'll just live somewhere else. We really like Arizona. If you're going back, you can take care of everything for us. You probably know better than we do about all that anyway." Amanda again took advantage of a well-placed silence.
Jane suddenly and truly understood Trent's anger. "Mom, I'm going down there and I'm going to get anything that's left that's important to me. I am not going to clean up your mess. Trent is not going to clean up your mess. This is your responsibility, and you can either deal with it appropriately or you can just do what you've always done, although consider yourself warned, the township might consider the property abandoned and sell it out from under you. But that's your problem, not mine." Jane pressed 'end' on her phone, although it would have been much more rewarding to have slammed down a receiver.
Thursday"Quinn, I thought that you'd be the first one to call 'shotgun' on this trip. You don't want to get your stuff from Mom and Dad's house?" Daria sat on the bed while Quinn shuffled some clothing in her closet.
"Are you kidding? First of all, if I haven't missed it in the past nine months, I can live without it, secondly, it's in Lawndale, a place I haven't missed at all in the past nine months." Quinn put a few items in a plastic garbage bag destined for charity.
"What do you have against Lawndale? I seem to recall that you were embraced with open arms. Lawndale was pretty good to you." Daria helped her by holding the top of the bag open as she placed some shoes in it.
"Daria, you weren't there for my senior year at Lawndale High, to say it sucked would be a huge understatement. Do you like these shoes?" She held up a pair of gold strappy sandals.
"No, to say that I dislike those shoes would be a huge understatement. What did you ever wear them with?" Daria took them from her and placed them in the bag.
"A cocktail dress that I had in my head. They've never been worn. Oh well, they'll make some hooker very happy." She continued to sort through her closet.
"Right, but don't you want to go back, at least to see Mom and Dad?" Daria glanced down at the bag, trying to see if there was something in there that she might want.
"I love Mom and Dad, but I'll go see them when they move. I just don't have it in me to deal with all the crap in Lawndale." She reached down and shooed Joyce away from her cashmere sweater pile. "Be a good kitty, go sit on the bed." Joyce obediently jumped up on the duvet.
"What crap?" Daria reached over to pet the cat.
"You know, going back and having to meet up with all of my 'friends' from high school. All of those hypocrites who claimed to like me, but who really just wanted something from me. The only one I'd ever want to talk to again is Stacy, all the rest of them can jump in a lake for all I care." She took a pile of T-shirts and stuffed them into the bag. "I need another bag."
Daria accommodated her by tearing one off the roll for her, "what are you talking about?"
Quinn stopped sorting and sat on the bed. "Remember that summer before you left for school? I took that job at the restaurant?"
"Yes, sort of, I had a lot on my plate then." Daria snuck a peek at the T-shirt pile.
"Right, well, so did I. I caught a pile of grief for registering for a heavy class load. Sandi, Stacy and Tiffany signed up for photography and yoga and stuff like that, I was trying to catch up by taking some A.P. and honors classes. I had to get the minimum STAT score of 1200 just to get into Raft. I studied my tail off and I got a 1205. I went to that damn cram school for three days a week to get that. Every day Sandi would point out, in front of all the guys how I was becoming a 'brain.' I mean, who cares? I was. I was trying not to have to go to college with people just like them. Pepperhill. What was I thinking? The first clue should have been that surfing was mandatory! So I thought, if I really put my mind to it, I could get a good score. I knew I could never get your scores, but I could hold my own. And dammit I did it! So what do I get for my trouble? Idiots mocking me!"
Daria laughed, "So? You're judged by the company you don't keep."
"If I had a chance to really make other friends before senior year, that might have been true for me, but I didn't. I was stuck with the Fashion Club. I'm not proud; everyone needs a social life. Even you Daria. You had your friends. Jane, Trent, Tom, even Jodie and Mack were there for you. When you and Jane weren't speaking, you still had people to go out with, friends to talk with. Without the Fashion Club I would have been all alone."
"What about Joey, Jeffy, Jamiel, Jordan, John, Jack, what were their names?"
Quinn blushed, "Oh Daria. What was I thinking? Those guys were stalkers! They didn't know me; I didn't know them. They just wanted to date me because I was queen of the school."
"So, maybe one of them would have been worth knowing."
"Maybe, but I was too busy milking them for presents, compliments and one-upmanship over Sandi. I like the attention. I like it when guys fight over me, or I used to. By senior year, I realized these guys were going nowhere. When I had that job at the restaurant, I met college students and they were interesting. Lindy was interesting. But when school started she had her things, and I had Lawndale High."
Daria put aside a couple of things out of the bag. "So what happened?"
"Well, I got the idea for the business and I went to the Fashion Club for help. Sandi shot it down, and as always, Tiffany and Stacy agreed with her. Stacy apologized later, much later, for not being supportive. In the end, it was just me. So I worked on grades and my business. Boy did that suck."
Daria didn't get it, "Why? You don't like them, they weren't helping you, why did you miss them?"
Quinn turned it back on her, "Why did you miss Jane?"
Daria considered, "I missed Jane because she was my friend."
"Well, they were my friends. Maybe they were crappy friends, but were the friends I had. When they bailed on me, I had no one."
"Are you trying to say that no boys wanted to date you?"
"No, but who cares about that? Boys always want to date me. Boys want to date you. Boys can be friends, but they can't replace your friends. With boys, there's always the sex question. I don't trust their motives. I needed my girlfriends, but they didn't need me." Quinn sighed. "I'm still really angry about it."
"I can understand that. So why not go back and rub their noses in it?"
Quinn's features morphed into fury, "Because I'd tear that bitch's head clean off."
"Eep." Daria chirped.
Quinn calmed herself, "Actually, I don't trust myself. It took me a long time to get past trying to justify myself and my choices to them. If I go back now and I run into them, no matter how successful and happy I am with my life now, I'll still just be making excuses. Screw that. I didn't need them then, I don't need them now, and I don't need to back and pretend...anything. I am happy and I am successful and the best way to prove that is to just enjoy it with the person who made it all possible. Me!"
Daria smiled, "Still as self-involved as ever."
"Yup, and that's why I am who I am!" Quinn tossed her a sweater, "this one is your color."
Friday EveningJane, Trent and Daria walked around the house, boots crunching on debris from the fire. .
"Wow. This sure is final." Jane shook her head. "The only things left are the sculpture out front and that damn gazebo. Completely and totally destroyed. I thought for sure I'd be able to save something."
"I don't know why, but I feel like I want a cigarette." Trent observed, kicking something melted and plastic.
"This really stinks," Daria observed as she sidestepped a jagged and charred object, "the smell of it is just as depressing as the sight of it. I just can't believe that one of the most important structures in my life is gone."
"Most important structure in your life?" Jane asked. "It was my house."
"I know, and I'm sure that my feeling of loss is much smaller than yours, but you have to admit, you two..." she stopped, "well, you know."
Trent hugged Daria to him, "Yeah, we know."
"I guess the only thing to be salvaged is that sculpture." Jane pointed, "The gazebo can stay."
"So what are you guys going to do?" Daria didn't want to bring up a sore subject, but something needed to be done.
Trent coughed. "I think I'll rebuild it."
Two female heads turned to him in amazement.
"Mom and Dad will get the insurance money. I'll buy the lot from them and I'll build a house on it." He seemed to be making it up as he went along.
"Why?" Daria made the word sound both plaintive and accusatory.
"I guess I'm not ready to have my whole life dry up and blow away. I don't have my band, I don't have my family; I'm not ready to give up my home too."
"Trent, that's just stupid. The band wasn't your life, the family wasn't your life and this isn't, or wasn't your home," Jane pointed out, "this was where we grew up and we lived here for a long time, but right now, it's just a house, or it was a house. Think about it, we've already made homes for ourselves. I've got a home with Joe and you've got a home with Daria. This was just a place to remember. Actually, now that I've seen it, I'm glad. This was my last reason to return to Lawndale. Now that it's gone, I never have to come back." She smiled, "What a relief!"
Trent cheered up, "That makes sense. I started to hate this place towards the end anyway. Let's trash something." He looked around for something to tear up, but there wasn't anything that hadn't burned to a crisp or melted into a blob. He picked up something that at one time might have been an aluminum pot. He flung it towards a window on the second story, and it crashed through, shattering the remains of the window. "Okay, I'm done." They walked back to the Tank. Jane took one look back, "I guess that's the end of that."
Daria turned thoughtful, "I never thought of it that way. Without your house, I don't have any reason to come back either."
"Why would you want to come back?" Jane climbed into the back seat.
"I wouldn't," she chewed her lip, "I can't think of a reason that I would want to come back, but it's a place that I know, I have some really good memories here, it's weird to think that I'll never come back. I mean if we drove down to Florida or something, it would be a short group of familiar exits off of I-95. It might be ten years in the future and Lawndale, as we remember it won't exist. Even in the past two years, although we've been back, things continue to change in our absence. Thomas Wolfe had it right, you can never go home again." She turned to watch the house fade as they turned the corner.
"That's deep." Trent played with the words in his mind. You can never go home again. It was truer for him than for most. There would never be a warm welcome for him; there wasn't even a home for him, at least not here, not now. Not ever if he were being honest. "You know what Daria, you may not be able to go home again, but you can go home." He didn't say it, but he meant: I can go home to you.
Sunday MorningThey needed a U-Haul trailer to bring everything back with them. Daria and Jane cleaned Helen out of her unwanted kitchen gear. Jane also claimed various pieces of furniture. Linens, curtains and decorative items were divided up. Among the things ending up in the Goodwill pile were Quinn's old clothing and most of her bedroom decorations. "It looks like a Hello Kitty store blew up," Daria opined.
The house was nearly bare. When Helen had packed up the things destined to make the move to Las Vegas, she had moved them into the garage. As she packed it was like peeling layers of an onion. In stages she had gone from her home to a house. There was no imprint of either her or Jake on this house anymore. The ultra-modern furniture, the ugly artwork that matched the ultra-modern furniture highlighted the shrink-wrapped quality of their things. It struck Helen that the last step in reclaiming her authentic self was to get rid of these furnishings. In their new house, it would be different. Only things that she loved were going to surround her. No compromises.
Daria came in, mostly to let her know that they were loaded up and ready to leave. "So what next?"
Helen sipped from her mug of coffee. "You'll see us in our new house."
Daria was disquieted with the ease that Helen and Jake could just pack up and move. Although she was reluctant to admit it, there was a comfort in knowing that if her life took a sudden turn, that she could come home to her folks. But now they were moving to a place she'd never lived before. They were buying a house that she could never call home. "Is there room for us?"
"Three bedrooms, I'm thinking about getting a Murphy bed for the den. Plenty of room for visitors." Helen was mentally checking items off of her list. "So are you nearly ready to go home?"
"Yeah, we just have one stop to make before we head north." Daria hung around for just another minute, drinking one last gulp of the house in Lawndale.
Helen realized that her daughter was about to leave and reached to hug her. "Drive safely, especially with that trailer. I don't trust those things."
"I will Mom." Daria hugged back.
Jake stood on the landing of the stairs. "You taking off Kiddo?"
"Yes Dad, we need to get back early."
Jake came down and hugged Daria ferociously, "I love you Kiddo, promise me that you'll come home to visit."
"Come home to visit?" It was a confusing concept for her.
"You know, wherever your mother and I are is your home. So now you'll come home to Las Vegas. I'll teach you how to play craps!" He pantomimed shooting dice.
"Okay. That sounds like fun." Daria smiled, it did sound like fun.
Helen and Jake walked her out to the driveway where everyone else was on board and waiting for her. They waved as the van pulled away from the curb. Jake kissed Helen on the cheek, "It's always nice when the girls come home."
"Oh Jakie, you're so sentimental. Help me write an ad for the Pennysaver, we need to get rid of all of this ugly furniture. You're so good with words."
"Okay, how about, Moving Sale: Furniture Galore! Leather! Chrome! Art! Must sacrifice!" He composed in the air as he spoke.
"Sounds good, put something in there about how we're letting it go cheap." She went into the house to see if there was anything else that needed packing.
Trent took the shovel and loosened the base. Jane and Daria rocked it and it finally gave. The luggage rack on top of the tank had been cushioned with some old bed-sheets. It took a few minutes and a lot of muscle, but finally they had the sculpture nestled on top. Trent and Jane took rope and bungee cords and secured it firmly. If it moved while they were driving down the interstate it could be a disaster.
"Do you think it will hold?" Jane asked as Trent tossed the shovel towards the hole.
"It has to. I think it's too heavy to move around too much. Let's hit the road, this place gives me the creeps." Trent dusted off his hands.
There was no temptation whatsoever to look back as they drove towards the interstate.
Sometime LaterWind drove slowly past the vacant lot. "107, 109, nothing, 113. I know it's here somewhere. Wait a minute...I know that gazebo!"
