3.
Intruder
Taking a seat on one of the kitchen stools by the counter, I watch my father as he goes about fixing breakfast for the three of us. Bacon, eggs, sausages, hash browns. The works. I really have no idea why we don’t make more of an effort back at the dorm.
“Morning,” Neil appears through the door way, smiling and raking a hand through his messy ‘just out of bed’ hair. “How did you sleep?”
“Good, and you?” I answer as he takes a seat beside me, before pouring us both a glass of orange juice.
“Something smells good, Mr. Harper,” he calls over to my father.
My dad continues preparing our food, while averting his attention over in our direction, “Let’s just hope it tastes as good as it smells then,” he jokes as he flips the bacon over in the pan. “I thought I would try and get my daughter looking her usual healthy self again. You’ve lost weight, Alex.”
It’s kind of true, although I didn’t think it was all that noticeable. I haven’t really had much of an appetite as of late. Neil’s cell phone sounds, and as he excuses himself and leaves the room, I notice that my father is still watching me closely, “Dad, I’m fine.” I know that look and I can tell he doesn’t believe me.
“Do you need us to help you take some of the boxes to the charity stores with you today?” I ask, trying to divert the conversation away from me and my eating habits, or lack thereof.
Neil takes his seat beside me again, looking slightly distracted by something. He reaches over for a piece of the toast that my father has just laid out in front of us, “Most of the charity places are closed on a Sunday so Diana from next door volunteered to collect them first thing in the morning,” my father answers as he takes his position back by the stove.
“Did you move some already?” Neil asks, “I could have sworn there were more through there yesterday.” He adds, gesturing towards the doorway that leads through to the living room.
“Yes, I’ve put a few of the boxes out in the garage.”
“So, what do you want to do for the rest of the day?” I sit up a little straighter in my seat. We hadn’t planned on driving back to Seattle until this evening, and where it’s only eight thirty, it would be a shame to waste the day.
Watching as my father serves up the food, I feel Neil leaning closer towards me, “Why don’t we head out somewhere, y’know, the three of us. Have lunch out or something. Make a day of it.”
It would make more sense than just sitting around in the house, and it’s a nice, sunny day out today, “Yeah, yeah let’s do it.”
***
We left the house at some time close to ten, with my father volunteering to drive after taking one look at the interior of the truck. He’s not a snob, he just likes to be as comfortable as possible. In that truck, you would be anything but comfortable.
After parking by one of the local art galleries, we make our way through one of the quieter streets in the city while trying to decide on what to do before we have lunch, “I just need to grab some cash,” I tell them both, and head towards the ATM on the other side of the street.
My father and Neil seem to be getting on really well, which is nice considering they both play a huge part in my life. Waiting for the lights to change, my eyes land on an SUV that’s slowly passing by.
Damn. Returning is the empty, sickly feeling through my chest and lower abdomen.
Grow some balls, Alex. I mean seriously, how many SUV’s are there between here and Seattle? Thousands, I’m sure. Scolding myself for attempting to see through the black tinted windows, I watch as it passes and wait for the lights to change.
“What’s wrong with your face?” I hear Neil come up behind me as I take the dollar bills from the machine, and then see my father standing just behind him. “We thought we could head over to the park or something.”
“Sounds good to me,” I answer, smiling as we step over to join my father, before making our way down the street. He looks to be giving directions to someone and as we approach, I notice it’s the same SUV that I saw just a minute or two ago.
Alex, relax. I urge myself as I go to stand by my father’s side.
“You can go that route, but I think that it would be easier if you took the second right onto Broadway,” my father tells the driver, “Alex, Broadway is the best route for Mount Avenue, isn’t it?”
“Yeah if you just—“I go to give directions to the driver, but my voice immediately cuts out when I see who is sitting in the driver’s seat. “You …”
My voice refuses to make another sound. He’s watching me, but I’m not able to see any kind of emotion within his eyes. They’re completely unreadable.
“Alex, are you okay sweetheart?” my father asks, glancing between both myself and the driver. Nodding before stepping further back onto the sidewalk, I turn around to see Neil’s face is most probably mirroring my own. He looks just as curious as I’m feeling.
“Wasn’t that the guy you were talking to down by the lake the other day?”
Looking over my shoulder and watching as the vehicle drives slowly away, I answer in an almost whisper, “Yeah … yeah, it was.”
***
It’s four o’clock as we pull onto my father’s driveway, and although we had fun on our outing, spending most of our time within the Hallie Ford Museum of Art, I haven’t been able to shift the encounter with Harry out of my mind.
Stepping out of the car and pulling the door key from my jacket pocket, I go to unlock the front door, stilling when I see it’s slightly ajar already, “Dad?” I call to him. He was the last one out this morning. “Dad, did you forget to lock up on your way out this morning?”
“I’m sure she thinks I’m becoming careless in my old age,” his laughter becomes louder as both he and Neil approach. “Of course I locked …” his voice trails and his eyes widen as he steps in front of me, pushing on the door until it opens up wide.
“Oh my God,” my voice is a whisper as I take it all in. Stepping inside, we see that the place has been completely trashed. “Who would do this?” I ask, my voice revealing the shock I’m feeling at seeing all of my father’s possessions scattered and broken around both the living room and hallway areas.
Turning to face my father, he looks instantly drained, with the color fading away from his cheeks when he sees what I see, “Fuck.” My father doesn’t flinch from Neil’s outburst, even though he hates curse words and has always reprimanded me whenever he’s overheard my use of obscene language.
“I’ll call the cops,” I say, with my voice sounding strangled as the bile rises into my throat.
“I’ll call them,” Neil insists, “stay with your father and check to see if anything’s missing.”
Kissing me lightly on the forehead, Neil leaves the room, and all I can do is wrap my arms around my father. He looks devastated.
“He’s a good kid,” he says, stepping out of my embrace as he walks around the living room, assessing the items that have been recklessly thrown from their usual places. Why would someone do this?
Tears begin to fill my eyes when I see him bend to pick up a broken photo frame. The one holding a photograph of my mom and dad on their wedding day. People can be so fucking cruel.
“They’re on their way,” Neil says, entering the room and coming over to stand by my side, softly stroking my cheek with the back of his hand, as a way to comfort me I guess. “Mr. Harper, does it look like anything has been taken?”
My father peers up, his eyes displaying nothing but an emptiness and without a response, he walks through into the kitchen. Following him, I see he has his hands resting on the counter top with his head hanging low, “Dad?”
Walking over and grabbing a hold of his hand, he squeezes it tightly but doesn’t look my way. He doesn’t like to display his emotions, and where this is a highly emotional and stressful time, with his and my mom’s belongings thrown callously around without a thought in the world from the person or persons who did this, it must
be hard for him to remain strong.
“Mr. Harper, the cops are here,” Neil says quietly behind us. My father inhales a breath, squeezes my hand once more, and then leaves to go and speak with them.
Sitting myself down on one of the stools, Neil comes over to join me, holding my hand and staying quiet for a few minutes as we listen to the questions the cops are asking my father, “What are you thinking?” the silence is broken when Neil asks this and I’m not sure at first how to respond.
“When I was leaving campus, Harry helped me with my case,” Neil sits up in his seat, his eyes narrowing as he waits for me to continue. “He asked where I was going and how long for, then, he just appears in a black SUV in Salem and asks my father for directions.”
Neil appears to understand where my trail of thought it heading, so it’s fairly obvious to assume he’s having exactly the same thoughts himself.
“What did you tell him?” Neil asks, standing himself up a little straighter and beginning to look worried. “Did you tell him where your father lived? Did you tell him anything?”
Shaking my head, I wonder why this concerns him so much, but then it did raise a few red flags for me too. “I didn’t tell him anything. I don’t think I like the guy though. There’s something about him that’s, I don’t know … not quite right.”
“I was thinking the same thing.”
4.
You’re Back
My father called a half hour ago to say that he landed safely in Florida.
I don’t think it would be a big surprise to say I didn’t get a lot of sleep again last night. Neil and I left my father’s house a lot later than we had anticipated because of what had happened, resulting in us arriving back at campus well after midnight.
When the cops finished their forensic search, I noticed they took away a few items in clear evidence bags with them. Because the three of us had also been in there, both before and after the burglary, we had to stay longer so they could take each set of our fingerprints and to answer a few questions.
From what we could gather, nothing appeared to have been taken. Mainly the place had just been messed up. Luckily my father decided to still go on his vacation. This made me feel a whole lot better, knowing he would be away from the house, because where we have no idea who or why someone would have any reason to break in, or whether they would be back, I’m a lot happier knowing he won’t be there on his own.
There was no sign of a forced entry, so at this present moment in time, the cops believe that either the intruder, or intruders somehow had access with a key, or think that we didn’t lock up properly on our way out. My father is absolutely sure he locked everything up though.
He promised me that he would have a locksmith stop by first thing this morning, leaving the new set of keys with his neighbor, ready for when he returns at the weekend. Hopefully the cops would have already caught the person or persons responsible for all of this by then.
After grabbing a shower and some breakfast, a bowl of muesli, which tasted nowhere near as good as my father’s cooked breakfast yesterday morning, I decided to go and visit my mom’s headstone for a while.
“They’re nice,” Neil says, gesturing towards the spray of flowers I just bought from the little florists on the corner by the cemetery, for which I always use.
It’s raining today so I find us both trying to take cover under my umbrella, and with Neil being slightly taller than I am, I’m still feeling the rain hitting my face. It actually feels nice. Although I told him he didn’t have to join me, he said he didn’t mind, actually, he insisted on coming along.
Walking through the gates, stepping to the side to allow a blonde woman to pass by us, I glance over to my left. An enormous flower arrangement on Holly’s memorial stone catches my eye almost immediately. A sinking feeling washes over me when I begin to wonder if they’re from Brandon.
Sadness, heartache, and a nauseas feeling flies through me at the thought, making me anxious to know if he’s been back since he left, “Neil, do you mind if I just go over to see something?”
“No, whatever you need,” he smiles, though the smile soon disappears and turns into a frown when he realizes what it is that I’m talking about, but his reaction doesn’t stop me. I want to know if he’s been back.
Arriving at the foot of Holly’s grave, the different array of flowers, from lilies, to roses, tulips, and daisies look absolutely stunning. Reaching down, I notice the small handwritten card amongst the beautiful arrangement.
You and me, forever.
I’ll never forget you, Holly.
Ever.
X
Wow.
Standing up and wiping the blurriness away from my eyes, I turn and walk away, feeling too choked up to say anything, but I do notice Neil’s gaze fixated on the flowers as I pass by him.
I know it’s wrong and completely selfish to be jealous of someone who isn’t even around anymore, but I can’t help how I feel. Why couldn’t he have wanted me just as much as he wanted her? He came here, placed the biggest bouquet of flowers beside her headstone, but not once did he think to contact me. Not one freaking time.
He would have gotten my messages, all of them, voice and text. I only wish I knew what I did wrong for him rip the necklace, the promise, away from me. I want to know what I can do to make things right again, but as the more days pass, I feel like maybe I read more into our relationship than he did. Perhaps I wanted to believe his love for me was as strong as my love was … is, for him.
I hate doubting him. I hate questioning us and what we had.
Placing the flowers for my mom by her graveside, I don’t think I’ll be able to stay with her for too long today. I’m far too exhausted and way too emotionally drained.
***
Twenty minutes after I had arrived by my mom’s graveside, my cell phone sprang to life. It was the garage asking if I could drop by so they could go over what they found with my car. It would have been helpful if they would have at least told me what the amount of damage was, or how much it would cost for me to get it fixed, but no, they wanted me to stop by.
Once I’d explained the call to Neil, we both said our goodbyes and headed separate ways. He’d arranged to meet with one of his college buddies Downtown, and the garage is located approximately a mile away and in the opposite direction.
After spending some time there, I make my way towards the campus, on foot. That was not the news I was hoping for. From now on, I’m without a car, at least until I can raise enough cash for a new one anyway.
The mechanic told me that unless I wanted to spend more on getting my car fixed than what the car is actually worth, it wasn’t worth my money or time. Neil was right, the engine was fucked. What I can’t and don’t understand though is how water had gotten in to the fuel tank.
I’m not exactly the brightest person when it comes to cars, but I most certainly wouldn’t have filled the tank with anything but gas. The gauge was almost on zero when I visited the filling station, on the day before travelling to my father’s, and I filled it to the brim, with gas.
The guy even asked whether I have any friends who like to play expensive practical jokes, or if I’ve gotten on the wrong side of anyone recently, laughing it off as soon as I threw a scowl his way.
Planning to indulge in a large bottle of wine as soon as I make it back up to the dorm, I walk through the campus gates and head towards my building.
“So what did he do this time?” Great. Closing my eyes at the sound of Matt’s voice, taking a deep breath, I choose to ignore the asshole, and try to walk around him when he attempts to block my path. “Was it drugs again?”
Today is not the day this asshole wants to mess with me, I swear it isn’t.
“Oh I get it, you don’t know,” he smirks and follows me to the bottom of the steps. “You don’t know because he fucked you, and then he left you!” both the venom in his tone and his words sting. A lot.
Don’t rise to it, Alex. He wants a reaction. D
o NOT give him one.
“Fuck you, Matt,” I snap, feeling all the more tempted to turn on my heel and punch him in the face, but there’s something holding me back. That something being that it would most likely make his day, and that is particularly something that I really don’t want to do.
“See, that’s where the problem lies, Alex. You wouldn’t, but then if Brandon dumped your ass right after you slept together, its most likely because you were shit in the sack anyway.”
Usually I can handle the things coming from Matt’s overactive mouth, but this, this is way out of line.
Turning back around to face him, while also wondering what kind of comeback I can give him for making me feel so inadequate, I still when my eyes land over on the opposite building.
Speaking on his cell phone, with his eyes directed solely over on me, is Harry. “What’s the matter, Alex? You’ve gone kinda white,” Matt smirks, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets as he takes a step closer towards me. “You wanna come with me and see if I can teach you how to fuck properly? It might be a challenge, but I think I can handle it.”
“Go to hell, Matt,” I snap, never once allowing my eyes to leave Harry. I have absolutely no idea who that guy is or what he wants, but I know one thing for sure, I don’t trust him one tiny bit.
Hearing Matt let out a laugh as I turn and head up the steps, I throw him the finger over my shoulder as I walk through the entrance doors, and away from one of the biggest mistakes of my life.
Alyssa and Ryan aren’t due to arrive back until Tuesday, and with Neil out for most probably the rest of the day, I have the place to myself, and unfortunately also my thoughts.
Once I get to my room, I decide to take a long hot shower to get myself warmed back up, before maybe trying to get some sleep. Walking over to my desk, I take the broken necklace from my jacket pocket, feeling the tears beginning to pool in my eyes when I think of Brandon.
Misplaced Trust (Misjudged) Page 3