Stay A While | DR3 | BOOK 2

39 - Memories

The worst part was the feeling in my gut as I pulled into Dads old neighborhood. The nostalgia tainted by the knowledge that things would never be that way again.

As I turned up the familiar street, the one that led to Dads with its smoothly paved roads and perfectly prim neighbors' with equally as impressive homes— I knew I'd have quite the afternoon ahead of me.

--

My SUV rumbled with ease up the gravel driveway, which was still eerily just as trimmed and perfect looking as Dad always kept it. Not to say that Dad ever had any particular affinity towards gardening or trimming hedges. I knew it was all on the gardeners, who were happy to keep up with maintenance. Happy because this was their routine. These hedges were their project. One Dad allowed them to on their own volition, leaving the paintbrush in the hand of the artist.

When they asked if we wanted anything specific for the open houses we were planning for, I waved them off. Whatever they were doing was already perfect as is.

There were three other cars already parked at the end of the long stretch of highway. Rory's SUV, which I slipped beside, Leannes red Mercedes, which I was surprised to see, and the final one I assumed belonged to the agent who was tasked with selling this place. Molly had arranged for an agent from her brokerage— one who specialized in this level of hillside property for sale, and had the client list to make it happen— to help us find an apt client for purchase.

My brother appeared in the doorway to greet me, a solemn but hopeful look on his face. Rory wanted to get this over with just as badly as I did. Real estate wasn't our type of sales, especially the kind that involved selling Dads home.

"All good?" I nodded at him as we pulled each other into a quick one-armed hug.

"Yeah..." Rory hummed, his shoulders sitting tightly up by his earlobes. I knew exactly how he felt. "It just feels kind of wrong," Rory's entire face was scrunched, his hand trying it's best to shield his eyes from the glaring sun outside. "This is Dad's home."

I stepped into the house, the sudden change in light making the space look so much darker than I knew it actually was. Eventually my eyes would adjust, and hopefully then it would look a bit more familiar.

"It was Dad's home."

But, evident by the tall man in a suit seemingly doing an assessment with Molly of the backyard entertainment area, the house was no longer a home. It was now an asset. A burdening one. One I wanted gone. Out of sight, out of mind.

They had removed most of Dads personal items from the house— his closet stowed away into storage until we were ready to delve into that, and anything official or business-y looking sent to his lawyer to sort through.

"What if we asked Grandma to move here?" Rory's eyes lit up with excitement.

It was a sweet idea, one that I'd love to entertain if there was any chance it could happen. As if Grandma wasn't coming on to her mid-seventies, had a whole community of friends, activities she liked to do back home in Ontario. Uprooting Grandma so that we could keep a mansion in the countryside for her to live in, all alone, wasn't a conversation I was willing to have.

"This is a lot of house all for one little Grandma."

"Who are you calling little?" A voice sharply called down, echoing through the less-furnished foyer. Grandma and Leanne appeared on the top landing, peering down at the two of us. They began making their way down the stairs, cordless vacuums and buckets of cleaning supplies split between the two of them.