.Sophie.
"Mommy will always love you, Beatrice." Clara Beckings whispered as she crouched infront of her eldest daughter. Even at 13 years old, Beatrice stood stotic, her face a mask.
Even at such a young age, Bea had mastered the look of stotic indifference, but nine year old Sophia-Marie Beckings knew what was really happening. Bea wanted to go, but she would never leave their father behind. Or, whatever was left of him on the urn still sitting on the coffee table.
The urn they all skirted around and tried not to look at as they did everything in their power to not glance at it.
That's when Clara declared that she couldn't stand it. The theoretical ghost of Charles Beckings that had been lingering over all their heads since before the funeral a week ago. Maybe even since he got sick. She had packed her things, and then gave her young daughters a choice. You could stay or you could go.
Sophia-Marie choose the comfort of her mother, while Beatrice refused to leave the house her father had taken his last breath in.
"You hear that, Bea? Mommy will always love you." Leaning forward, the 29 year old mother of two wrapped her arms around her daughter that looked exactly like Charles Beckings had. Clara would never admit it, but it hurt her to stare into her daughters brown eyes, and it hurt her to be surrounded by all these people that knew Charles. She ached to get into her car and drive away.
"I love you too, Sophia-Marie." And then her mother reached a shaky hand out and grabbed her youngest daughter, hugging them both to her chest like it would be the last time they were ever together. Not as a whole family. That wasn't possible anymore.
But as their own, tiny fragment of what had once been.
"Mommy?"
Slowly opening my eyes and stretching, I saw big blue ones staring back. Her dirty blonde hair was a tangled mess, and her mouth was rimmed with what must have been breakfast. On her dirty face was a look of curiosity and concerned.
"Mommy?" She said again, her voice loud in the quietness of my room that was still full of boxes. In the month that we'd been here, I hadn't managed to unpack any of my own belongings. It felt to real. To soon. I didn't want to feel at home in the place my father died.
"Yeah, baby?" I reached my arms out to her, and she crawled into them, the bed creaking under the small amount of weight she had. Cuddled into the nook my my arms, atop the blankets, she stared up at me. She was an angel. An angel with ratty hair and a dirty face.
"Are you dead?" She whispered. Well, as much as a whisper as a two year old could muster. "Like daddy?"
That slammed into my heart like an oncoming train. I wanted to gasp for breath, to assure myself that I was still alive and able to breath, but I couldn't. Instead, I pushed us up, tugging my little girl onto my lap in the process. And then I squeezed her tightly, pressing her tiny body to my chest.
"Baby, why would you say that? I'm right here."
When I pulled her away, she reached up with her chubby fingers, grabbing my face and examining it with an incredible amount of intent for someone so young, her brow furrowed like her father often did. But now, when I looked into her eyes, I didn't see him like I normally did. I saw the tiny little bundle that had been covered in goo and loosely wrapped in a pink blanket as nurses and doctors bustled around us.
"Be-be said you sleep like the dead." Lacey replied, her voice matter of fact. Not the voice of a girl in her terrible twos.
"Girlie, I'm never going to leave you. Ever. I love you so much. You got that? Mommy loves you, Lacey." And them I pressed a kiss to her rats nest before pulling her off my legs and placing her onto the wooden floor of what had been Bea and I's room growing up.
The paint on the walls was still the same pale baby blue. It made my skin crawl.
I would be painting soon, there was no doubt about it.
"Now, go to your Be-Be and tell her that she has a mess to clean up."
She bobbed her head at me, racing out of my room with her milk stained Frozen themed pajamas. The tiny patter of feet was closely followed by the loud exclaim of a child following her Mommy's orders.
And once I was sure that I was alone, I placed my own feet on the cold, dark wooden floor. They were now the only worn and withered thing left in this house after Bea had gotten done with it. With slow, deliberate movements, I made my way out of my room and into the hallway. With it's new tan walls and the lack of pictures, it seemed like it was miles long.
Or maybe that was my conscious.
The dreams that had been bugging me lately wouldn't leave me alone until I tried. Or atleast attempted to open the door. But, I stopped short. I couldn't. Hands shaking on the cool metal of the door knob, I knew this wasn't something I could do yet.
Hands falling limply at my sides, I resisted the urge to kick the black door.
"Remember when we were little, and we would throw books from the shelves downstairs and pretend that the floor was lava?" Bea's voice came softly from the end of the hallway, causing my to jump, my heart moving from my stern up to my chest. "Ah, sweet nostalgia."
Turning to look at her, I didn't see the 13 year old girl from 13 years ago. I saw the 26 year old secretary at the local law firm, her hair pulled into a prim bun her pantsuit wrinkle free, and her makeup perfect as usual. She had evolved from an awkward young girl to a ravishing woman.
She had evolved, and I still stood in fear.
My response came out to her as nothing more that a whisper. "The worst thing about nostalgia is that it makes things seem better than they actually were."
To my deep response, Bea only laughed. "You are such a drama queen." She snorted, and then started heading down the stairs."Hey, I got a call about your car being towed to the local mechanics shop earlier. Did you call it in?" She called up the stairs a moment later, and slowly, I made my way after her, hesitating. I hadn't called it in. I had been sleeping like a log until ten minutes ago.
Paul
Her car came into the shop early in morning.
I made sure it did.
Not because I was interested or anything. That was definitely not the reason. It was all for Emily's sake. She couldn't have a worker flaking out on her.
That's what I told myself on the outside. But the inside me, well, it wasn't thinking the exact same thing.
.Sophie.
Getting out of Kim's car, I was thankful that Jared didn't have a job so that he could be my personal chauffeur and baby sitter.
"Call me if you need a ride back. Me and Lace here are going to get some icecream!" Jared called out of the window. It was closely followed by the excited squeal of an extremely happy Lacey.
"Will do! Bye, Lacey. Mommy will see you soon."
She didn't respond. She was to excited at the prospect of the sweets she was about to devour. So, with a shrug, Jared rolled up the window and pulled away, leaving me in the damp and almost empty parking lot.
The Mechanics shop, Joe's Wrenches, was sitting in a tiny little nook, between a general store and a bakery. The paint was chipping off the sides, and it needed a good power washing. The air stank of oil and fresh donuts, giving me the incredibly urge to gag. I opened the door, with it's fingerprint covered windows and stepped inside. The shop was incredibly well kept, unlike the outside. The counter was clean and orderly, with a computer twice my age sitting atop it, letting out a wheezing noise as it struggled to operate.
"Hello?" I called out, stepping up to the counter, and leaning over to peer into the door behind it. The door lead to the actual mechanic shop portion, but all I could see was a green truck surrounded by tools of the trade. "Hellooo?" I called out again, slowly making my way around the counter. My only response was the sound of rock music playing back at me. I inched my way into the shop, slowly walking around the truck.
I came head to chest with a white, oil stained t-shirt.
"You shouldn't poke around." Came the gruff voice of the chest.
'That's something that gets said in a horror movie.' My mind thought at me frantically as I hurried backwards. "I'm so sorry! I tried to get someones attention bu-" and then I looked up, my drifting past the strong jaw and up to his beautiful, brown eyes that were rimmed with eyelashes so long that I felt a sudden sting of jealousy. "Oh." I whispered.
"Oh?" He smirked at me, brushing past me and into the waiting room. With cheeks on fire, I followed quickly, awkwardly shuffling past him and infront of my counter.
"We've meet before. I think. I was just shocked that it was you."
His only response was a grunt as he started typing on his keyboard, his long fingers moving against the keys quickly as I tried to avoid looking at him.
Clearing my throat, I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me off. "You shouldn't have left your car in front of the light. You're lucky the police around here are nice and had it towed for you. It'll cost you a pretty penny."
My cheeks caught fire again, and I reached into my bag, rustling around it quickly and pulling out my wallet. "How much is it going to cost me?"
His eyes finally flickered down to me, lingering for a brief second before moving back to the screen. "'Bout 6 hundred. For the towing bill, the parts to get that old beast running again, and my services."
Paul
Six hundred of course, barely covered a third of it, but when I opened my mouth to say the original amount, the lie tumbled out. But there was no way a girl like her could afford the full amount, that's for sure.
She clinched her jaw in response, pulling out her check book while muttering something about 'Lacey's College Funds'. Watching her scribble onto the check out of the corner of my eye, I took in how beautiful she was. Even with her brown hair messy and falling infront of her face, and even in ratty jeans and a hoodie, she was a sight for sore eyes.
She made a small hum as she reached her hand out, and I took the check from her, sliding it into the drawer under the desk before turning away from her. "Okay, the car should be done by tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?!" She hissed, her brow furrowed in anger. "How am I supposed to get home?! How am I supposed to get to work?"
God, what did she expect from me? I'd already paid for her god damn repairs out of my own pocket, and I already made sure the god damn parts were being shipped pronto. I didn't want her around in the first goddamned place. I wanted to give her her fucking car and send her on her way and never have to see that pretty face with those mesmerizing brown eyes again. How the fuck was any of the shit she was complaining about my problem?
Unfortunately, that last thought was said aloud, rather than in my head.
"You're an asshole!" She growled, snatching her wallet and checkbook up off the counter and shoving it into her purse before storming out of the shop, the door slamming behind her. Growling, I slamming my fist onto the counter, turning back to walk into the shop, but of course, Jacob was their to watch my idiocy.
"Dumbass." He snorted, rolling his eyes before turning back around and heading back to work.
"Mind your own business!" I snarled after him.