Write Me A Letter

19 | oliver

CHAPTER NINETEEN | o l i v e r

         BRIE'S MOM WAS AT THE KITCHEN WITH HUGH when they walked in. She was in her light yellow dress as she usually did during weekends, ladle in hand and feet in white flip flops as she stood in front of the stove. She was talking animatedly to her husband of one year, hands waving and eyes crinkled with a smile. Footsteps came in and she looked up with a beam at Brie and Ollie's arrival. "Oliver!"

"Hi mom," Brie greeted with a kiss on her mom's cheek and a wave at Hugh who grinned at her, "and Hugh-Dad."

Hugh shot her a finger-gun and a wink as he always did when she called him that. Brie laughed at his antics. Even though it only took her mom a year before remarrying again, she couldn't find it in her heart to hate this man.

Hugh was five years younger than her mom and worked as a mechanic at the local shop downtown. Her mom met him when her car wouldn't start and the rest was history. At first, Brie was weary as any child would be. This was a guy five years her mom's junior, he had long red hair and an odd liking to classical songs despite enjoying punk music. He was so different from... her dad. And she quite couldn't fathom the idea of having him replaced.

Yet all it took was one word from her mom to strip her of all her worries.

Brie was in the old ottoman that belonged to her dad that night, alone and crying because her mom was out with another date with Hugh; Hugh who looked nothing like her dad, Hugh who had stuffed dice toys dangling from his rearview mirror. The door creaked open and she pulled her legs to her chest, alert and conscious of her mom's movements.

Her mom's heels clicked on the tiled floor. Just by the sound of it, Brie knew her mom's wearing her favorite pair of red-strappy heels. She never wore that anymore -- ever since Robert, Brie's dad passed away. She fought another sob that threatened to escape and curled even further in her seat.

The chair no longer smelled of her dad, but the worn-out leather and the shape of his body was imprinted to it as if it was only meant for him. It was far-fetched, a complete fantasy filled with impossible hope and longing, but Brie felt that she was just right next to him even though he was already gone.

That was her routine every day. School, treehouse, friends, and then, when she was all by herself, she'd curl up in the same ottoman and talk to him as if he was still there.

Yet out of all the days that she felt the loneliest, it was right then. The very same night that her mom went out on her third date with the same man. It was that second that she realized that her dad was really gone and it broke her all over again.

"Oh, why are you still up, honey?" Her mom smiled at her, the pair of strappy heels dangling from her fingers. "It's already half-past twelve."

She looked pretty in a black fitted dress, curly hair up in a high ponytail and light blue eyes dusted with brown shadow. 

"Why? Do you want me to be asleep so you can bring Hugh up in your room?"

Her tone was ice-cold and her words were sharp. After a beat of silence as her mom blinked at her with somber eyes, Brie regretted what she said. She was waiting for a scolding, a slap even but all she got was a sob, and that tore her even more.

Brie watched her mom from the side of her eyes, shaking hands pressed to her face as her shoulder trembled with each cry that came out of her lips. The strap of her shoes was still slotted between her fingers, hiding away the beautiful face of her mom from view.