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When it was time to return to the house, I walked like a snail to my car. I drove like a granny home, never going above the speed limit. Five under, in fact, much to the annoyance of any cars behind me. I took the long way, purposefully making a few wrong turns here and there. Anything to keep me out of that house just a bit longer.
He’d be waiting for me. Uncle Dave would be waiting with a smile on his face, and he’d make the most of the time we had alone, before my parents came home. He’d make me feel even more hollow inside, and by the time he was done, I wouldn’t recognize myself at all.
I pulled into the driveway and parked my car. I was so out of it that I didn’t even notice my car was the only one in the driveway. I grabbed my bag and got my keys out, and then I walked to the front door, shoulders slumped. My fingers fiddled with the keys before inserting it into the lock, and then I pushed inside, steeling myself for what was to come.
I dropped my bag near my shoes, taking a single step forward, deeper into the house. I didn’t hear a single sound. Nothing from the kitchen or the living room, and that told me Uncle Dave was upstairs.
My feet dragged me to the stairs, and up I went. When I made it to the second floor, my ears heard not a sound. It was when I made it to my bedroom that I realized the house was completely empty.
This didn’t seem right.
Once it dawned on me, I was quick to check the neighboring room.
My breath caught as my eyes surveyed Claire’s old room.
Uncle Dave’s stuff was gone. His luggage was nowhere to be seen, the dresser looked untouched, and the closet was open and empty once again. This didn’t look like a room someone was staying in. Abandoned was the only word I could think of to adequately describe it.
I raced through the hall, down the stairs. I checked the living room and the kitchen. I even went to the basement to make sure. It was just as the evidence provided: Uncle Dave wasn’t here. That’s when I finally thought to check his truck, and I ran to the living room and glanced out of the window.
His truck was gone.
His truck, his clothes, everything; it was like Uncle Dave had packed up and left. That hollow feeling inside me was instantly replaced by the stupidest thing:hope. And it was stupid—hope was the dumbest, strangest thing for me to feel in that moment, but I couldn’t shake it off.
I wanted Uncle Dave to be gone. I wanted him out of this house and out of my life forever.
I wanted him dead.
Plopping myself down on the couch, I ran my hands over the cushion I sat on, feeling strange. None of this seemed right. Was this a dream? Had I fallen asleep sometime during class, and this was some kind of beautiful daydream? It was the only thing I could think, the only reason every trace of Uncle Dave would be gone.
Leaning back, I rested my head on the cushion behind me. This felt surreal in the weirdest of ways. Honestly, it was the last thing I expected. After how quickly Uncle Dave had reminded me that I was a broken girl who no man would ever want… after getting what he wanted from me last night and telling me to break up with Brett…
There was no way. There was just no way he’d pack up and leave, just like that. I couldn’t believe it. I genuinely couldn’t.
And that’s why, when my parents got home, I was still sitting on the couch, my mind still racing. It wasn’t until dinner, though, that I found out what happened.
My dad sat on his chair, holding his plate of food—hamburger helper or some generic variety thereof, made of noodles and beef. Mom sat on the couch, doing the same, while I sat on the floor, near the coffee table. My plate rested on top of the coffee table, along with my glass. Sometimes we ate at the table in the kitchen, but most often we ate in the living room while watching TV.
News, I mean. My parents pretty much had news on repeat once they got home.
“Dave texted me earlier,” Dad said. All my mom did was lift her eyebrows. “He told me an opportunity was offered to him, and he couldn’t pass it up. But in order to take it, he had to leave today.”
“I noticed his room was packed up when I changed out of my scrubs,” Mom said, nodding once. “What kind of opportunity? A job, I’m assuming?”
“Sounded like it. It was out of state though, and he said he’d be pretty busy if it worked out.”
An out of state opportunity that may or may not be a job. Well, if it got Uncle Dave out of here, then I was grateful. I could once again breathe in my own house without worrying about any wandering eyes or hands or… you get the gist.
My dad’s fork scraped against his plate as he tried to scoop up some noodles that refused to stay on the fork when he stabbed them. “He didn’t give me many details about it.”
Mom let out a sigh. “Thank God. No offense to you or your brother, James, but I really didn’t want him living with us forever.” It was something she and my dad had talked about; I was in college. They assumed I’d get a decent job after—yeah, yeah, don’t make me laugh at how stupidly optimistic they were—and I’d move out immediately. Then this house would be empty, and they’d be empty nesters.
My mom changed the subject after that, talking about her day at work. She always told stories about her funniest patients. The funny ones came first, then the rude ones. Lately, the rude ones had been outnumbering everyone else, to the point where it was obvious my mom was mentally exhausted at the end of every day.
While she talked and my dad split his attention between listening to her and listening to the TV, my mind drifted off.
Uncle Dave was gone, and he wasn’t coming back. Maybe in the far future, but not anytime soon. I didn’t show it on my face, but I was excited. How could I not be? How in the world could I not be happy that that asshole wasn’t going to be living in this house anymore? A few days had been enough.
Days. God, that’s all it had been. That’s all, and yet Uncle Dave had managed to fuck my life up even more. Brett was gone. I was once again alone, and I had more recent memories of things I shouldn’t.
