Hidden Jewels (Short Stories)

5) And then she walked away

Published: Thursday, June 4th 2020 10:47 am

He had a routine. It was rather simple, yet complicated, yet done in a way that was his and his alone. He would wake up early in the morning and turn on the light in the bedroom. The morning sun would not yet have come up while he walked around his home for a while before exciting the front door with a wide yawn. He would stretch as he paced towards the front gate, and then crack his knuckles before beginning his run through the quiet neighborhood that was his own. That run would take an hour, sometimes two if he was feeling particularly energized that day. Usually two.

It was interesting to see how much stamina a man of his age had. He had to have been close to fifty judging by the gray decorating his dark head and beard. The fact that he always seemed to be happy on these runs was an achievement for many that wished for the same emotion, but there were reasons why seeing him happy left an uneasy feeling, and anger.

It was a few hours later when he and his wife excited their home with their four children in tow. They had three girls and a boy, the boy being the youngest at only a few years old. Judging by their backpacks they were off to school, and judging by the parents clothes, they were off to work. It was Monday after all.

He wasn't seen again until he made a stop at the local Starbucks to grab his lunch coffee before he made his way towards the deli to get a sandwich. Starbucks has always been known for the variety of creations that can be used to cater towards anyone's drink of choice, but somehow he always seemed to walk away with a black coffee with two sugars. It was the same order each time he stood patiently in line, though he would occasionally check his watch from time to time. He wouldn't look at his phone or show his displeasure for having to wait so long for a simple coffee even though it was the lunch rush he was in. The man had a patient and calm face.

Soon he would be walking away while taking slow sips of his drink, his other hand preoccupied in his pants pocket. He would stand with a group of people at the sidewalk while waiting for the go ahead to cross the street to the deli. This time it seemed that his order had already been called in and was ready for pickup. Though, as he was walking away he was bumped into by a little girl with pigtails and half the cup of coffee was spilled on his suit. The child's mother began to apologize profusely, the child began to wail in embarrassment, and surprisingly enough the man dropped to the child's level with a wide smile on his face.

He was reassuring her, it seemed, that everything was okay and showing that he wasn't hurt. His hand gestured to the coffee to show that some was still left for him to drink, then he playfully pulled at her red colored braid until she laughed and her mother looked relieved. He looked like such a good man from afar. He showed kindness and understanding, but things aren't always as it seemed.

Later that day he was outside with his kids running around and playing some type of game. Whatever it was, they loved it and the giggling didn't stop. Then his wife began looking in the direction of the girl who was watching them before calling her husband to her. For the first time he recognized that she was there and began to make his way over. She met him halfway out of the car.

"I've noticed you before," He began, calm as ever as he stood in front of her with his arms folded over his chest. "I know it's not a coincidence either. So what do you want?"

Even now he was still as calm as ever as he waited for a reply. The words were on the tip of her tongue to say to him. They were the words she wanted to say since she learned about him almost five months ago. Nothing about him fit the stories of the things he could do and the pain he could inflict. He was just a man right now.

"I-," She began but did not know how to continue. By now his wife stood watching them from their. She was a beautiful woman with hair in blonde waves and eyes wide and observing. Though she seemed angrier than the man did that he was talking to her.

"Look," he spoke up and her eyes snapped back to him. It looked like something flashed in his green eyes. It was anger. She would know those angry green eyes anywhere. This was the most emotion he had shown since she began watching him and his family three months ago.

"I don't want to call the police on you, but I will." He said. He was serious. He didn't seem like the type of man to make empty threats. His finger pointed to her car behind her. "Now get in your car and leave."

"I wanted to see the house." She said before he could walk away and no doubt call the authorities on her. She would call the cops too if she were him. A random woman had been seen in front of their house multiple times in the last few weeks. It was surprisingly that he waited this long to confront her.

"The house?" He questioned, skeptical.

She nodded quickly and placed on her most convincing smile as she tried to sell her story. "The woman who used to live here was my grandmother." She lied. She only knew of the elderly woman from research. "Mrs. Miller."

He remembered the name if the look of ease on his face was anything to go by.

"Of course." He said. "I remember."

"I didn't want to be of trouble to you." She replied, sparing a glance as his wife, Naomi, watched them from the driveway. She turned back to him, her breath catching as they locked eyes. "I just had to come and see," she gulped. "Everything."

Suddenly he began to smile. It was charming, teeth shining brightly as he watched her again. Then he waved Naomi over who began to eagerly bye into the story that the girl had told the man. She was sweet, kind, and very talkative as she went on about the renovations that they didn't have to do because her "grandmother" kept the house in such good shape. Then they surprised her by inviting her to see the inside of the home, but she refused. She had done what she came to do.

She did her best to make her refusal look genuine. There was no way she could go in that house and keep up with the charade.

"I can't do that." She said, and then added lower at their look of dejection. "I need to go."

"Can I have your name?" Naomi asked, eagerly reaching into her pocket for her phone. "So that you can come by another time?"

Before she answered she spared the man another glance. He had a strange look in his eyes as he watched her closely. She chose to ignore it.

"Claire." That part was truthful. It was the name her mother gave her after her real grandmother. The number she gave Naomi would never be used. It was an old one from when she was in high school and had been disconnected. Claire cleared her throat and pulled her car keys from her pocket. "I have to go."

She was halfway to her car before her name was called, and the man stood in front of her with a million questions in his eyes. "Do I know you?" He asked.

She could have told him. The answer was on the tip of her tongue, and the proof was in the green eyes that they shared, and the red hair that her mother said resembled his own mothers. But still he didn't seem like he could recognize her. The last time he saw her she was a one year old in a hospital bed. Or perhaps he was waiting for her to confirm his suspicions before he said anything else. Claire wouldn't do that for him.

"You don't know me." She assured him, her eyes sad though devoid of tears. Claire was at peace with this. "Goodbye, David."

Claire didn't give him time to wonder how she knew of the name he gave up over twenty years ago. She didn't give him a chance to question her story again and find all of the lies that she had spun to deceive him. In all honesty, she didn't believe he deserved to know anymore about her than she let him know already. He may have helped create her, but he was not her family.

Her lips turned down into a last smile as David stood gaping at her in shock. Was it because he understood now or he was surprised that she knew who he used to be? Claire didn't care to find out. Naomi had walked away towards their children–her brother and sisters–playing in the front yard. There was peace in knowing that they would never know her, or she them. They didn't deserve to have their lives uprooted likes hers was. So she bid the suddenly waving children goodbye.

The man that gave up being her father began to speak, but she shook her head, silencing him.

And then she walked away.