Passing, passing, passing... no problems in any of my classes. Not the striaght As that I knew my dad would want, but he couldn't argue with what I had. Of course, if he found out about how I'd spent my weekend, that C minus on my calculus test would look rather suspicious.
I couldn't remember what time their flight was supposed to land, but they'd be home when I got back from work that day. Which was why I had gotten up two hours early, to clean house as best I could. Dusting, vacuuming... I hardly ever ate enough to warrant a scrubdown of the kitchen, but I figured it couldn't hurt. Couldn't let my mother think I was neglecting the house in any way.
It occurred to me that night as I tried to go to sleep how ironic it all was. The house was clean, and no one was there to see it. I'd been worrying about what my dad might say about my grades, and now I saw no reason to continue with the classes.
Around three in the morning, I gave up trying to sleep, and I went downstairs and made some coffee. The bitter warmth seemed to sit well with me, and I took out my guitar. I felt like I'd been neglecting it during the past few weeks, even though I'd been playing whenever I could. But that hadn't been very often. Lyrics had drifted in and out of my head all this time, and if paper and pencil had been present, I'd written them down. Now I dug through my papers to find what I had jotted down. After some rearranging and rewording, I found myself with a song. Somewhere around six in the morning, I set my guitar down and rubbed my sore fingers. Yes, I had been neglecting my music.
I had travelled on airplanes several times, and though they made me nervous, I'd never seriously entertained the notion that the plane on which I rode might crash. I wondered why my parents' had. I wondered why dad couldn't have had a job that kept him at home. I wondered why mom had had to go with him so often. I wondered why it had happened now. I wondered why it had happened at all. I wondered what I would do next.
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The next morning, I didn't go to school, though I found myself almost wishing I had. I think everyone from Lakewood to Anaheim called to offer condolences and comfort, but they had the opposite effect. Rather than keeping busy and keeping my mind occupied, I found myself on the phone, reminiscing about good times that certainly hadn't looked good at the time. My boss even called, and suggested that maybe it would be best if I didn't come in for a couple days. I tried to argue, but he'd have none of it. So around one in the afternoon, I jumped in my car and headed to the only refuge I could think of.
I apologized a dozen or so times for intruding, and said I hadn't realized he'd still be sleeping. When he'd opened the door, Jackson had been wearing faded jeans and a plain white tshirt, and his hair was rumpled, as if he'd just rolled out of bed.
"It's okay," he said nonchalantly as he put an arm over my shoulder. "I just hung up the phone from talking to Sarah, and was about to come over to see if you were okay."
I nodded. "I'm okay, just... overwhelmed. Too many people calling, asking me what I'm going to do now. I don't know what I'm going to do."
He sat down on the dumpy old couch and patted the space next to him. I sank down and gratefully leaned against him. "College?" he said.
"I never wanted it in the first place. I'd be only too grateful to stop now."
"Work?"
"Full time day job, I suppose. Unless my guitar gives me something."
"Location?"
Here I paused. "That house is too big for just me. I don't want it."
"Where will you go?"
I thought for awhile. I could move into Los Angeles, closer to work. And maybe it'd be easier to find work as a musician if I were closer to the scene... or not. Maybe it'd be harder. And there was always... "Maybe I'll go back to England."
"I kinda expected you to say that."
We sat silently for a little while. I was grateful for the reprieve from answering the phone, and my thoughts wandered. It occurred to me that I'd probably be getting something from an inheritance. I wondered if that would be enough to get an apartment in London for a little while as I looked for work and tried to see about selling the house here. I probably also ought to call my academic advisor and tell him to kiss my ass. Or I could just tell him I wouldn't be returning, though in my opinion, he really deserved the former.
"Hey, you want to stay here for a few days?"
"What?"
"Stay here for a few days. The last thing you need is lots of attention from everybody. You can call a few people and assure them that you're fine, but you don't have to give this phone number out. Just hide here for a little while."
I sat up and looked at him. I knew him well enough to know that he wouln't offer if he weren't sincere. "I don't know what to say... thank you, I guess."
I was rewarded with a smile that suddenly took me back ten years, to when I'd first met him and had melted as he'd flashed that same grin. We'd both come a long way since then, that was for sure. "Think nothing of it," he said casually.
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I was somewhat surprised to find my uncle walking up to my door as i pulled my car in. Of course, when I thought about it, it made sense that someone from my immediate family would make an appearance. In truth, I was glad to see him, because it meant that he'd be taking care of all the little details that I didn't even know were there.
He smiled at me as I walked up and unlocked the door. "Hi, Jan, how are you?"
"I've been better, but all in all... well, I'm fairly together. How are you? And everyone else, for that matter, I suppose."
"Mom and dad are broken up like I've never seen them, though I suppose that's no surprise. The rest of us are coping. We wanted to take it all off your hands, though. Don't you have finals coming up?"
"Yeah. In fact, I've just come to get my stuff and head over to a friend's house, where I'll be able to get some peace and quiet."
"Sounds reasonable. What's the number, in case we need to contact you?"
I hesitated. The point of it all was to be able to escape, to avoid being contacted at all. But someone should have the number... "If I give it to you, do you promise to give it to no one? I mean, if someone else really needs to contact me, you'll find out what they need and do the contacting? And contact only if it's really necessary?"
"Wow, Jan, why all the secrecy?"
"I just want to get away. I want to be left alone. And remember, it is someone else's phone number I'm giving out here."
"Okay, okay, I'll be the only one with the number."
After another moment of hesitation, I gave it to him. I could tell Jackson that if anyone did call for me, then to first find out who is was and what they wanted before saying that I was there. My uncle looked grateful to have the number, and I crossed my fingers and started up to my room to gather a few things. After a few steps, I poked my head back into living room. "Uncle Bradly?" He turned to me. "Um... did they... I mean, is there a will or anything? And what is going to be done with the house?"
"Their lawyer has their will. He's going to open it tomorrow afternoon, and most of us will be there. You'd better be there, too. If they don't say anything about the house, it's most likely yours."
"Where, what time?"
"How about if I pick you up here at one?"
Again, I hesitated. I usually preffered to drive myself places, but I'd never been to the lawyer's office, which is where I imagined we must be going, and if it was hard to find, I'd probably be late. "Okay, here at one." I ducked back out and went to pack.
Chapter 15 - - - - Chapter 17