"I am tired.
These people make me feel I have a hole in the middle of me."
- D.H. Lawrence.
. . .
Dahlia
Monet, whichever of the two he was, got my boxes dropped off and settled in my living room instead of letting me do that by myself and with the help of Otto. I was grateful.
The whole aesthetic of my apartment was fucked. But, at least I had my Uncle's true legacy.
I went to the shelter the next day, ready to meet whoever was going to adopt Minnie. I was going to cause hell if I didn't think they'd be able to take care of her. I perhaps should have adopted her, but Bobby didn't like kittens. He had barely tolerated Vaness for weeks till they sort of became friends. Minnie wouldn't stand a chance against that chunky ginger bully, and I couldn't be there all the time to supervise.
"He should be here in a few minutes," Maria said. "Try not to scare the poor guy, yeah?"
"Why are you acting like I'm some bully?" I asked, sitting down on the couch of the reception. "I'll just let him know how precious she is."
"Yeah, of course," she said dryly and then looked at the sliding doors as they opened and a man stepped inside.
"There he is." She looked at me. "I dare you to be mean to him. Like really, I'd bet 5 dollars."
"That's a lot of money, Marie." I stood as he approached. He was tall, that was somehow the first thing I noticed, although the rest of him was equally notable. He smiled at us, the corner of his eyes crinkling. He looked a bit younger to me than what Marie had said, with a few streaks of white in his hair. There were a few tattoos that covered his neck and hands, the rest of him was covered with what did look like an expensive suit.
"Hello, ladies." He smiled again. "I was told the home visit will be today." He looked at me and then the smile slipped from his face a bit before he composed himself.
"Oh, Mr. Allard, this is Dahlia, she volunteers here sometimes. She will be coming along for the home visit."
I was?
"Of course. Hello, Dahlia. It's nice to meet you." He shook my hand.
"Likewise," I said, a bit unsettled at how his smile had disappeared. Was he one of the million people my dad had pissed off at some point? He could be. My dad was quick to temper, and insults. It was sometimes entertaining to watch.
"I don't understand," I said to Marie after we led Mr. Allard to where Minnie was playing. I watched like a hawk. He was gentle with her, petting her head every time she grabbed his hand. "If we are supposed to do the home visit, why is he here?"
"He wanted to see her again."
I frowned. That was sweet.
Soon enough, Marie and I were settled in my car following Mr Allard's car to wherever he was leading us. This is a good way to get murdered. But he seemed like a half-decent guy, and all his details were back at the shelter. Killing us would be stupid.
What if he is stupid?
I needed to stop watching those stupid serial killer documentaries.
"I want to marry your car," Marie said, for the nth time. She loved the car my Uncle had left me. It was a beauty.
"I can't let you cheat on me," I said to her as we entered the rich side of the town. We passed by Evan's gigantic mansion, and I resisted the urge to go to the nearest grocery store, buy some eggs, and make that stupidly beautiful building smell for days. We passed by my house, and I definitely did not speed up after I spotted my mother on the balcony. Finally, Mr. Allard slowed.
"Holy shit balls," Marie stole my words. "Okay, he needs to adopt me."
I, too, was tempted to put myself up for adoption.
We had seen this mansion a few times. One could not live in our sad little town and not talk about the...
"Monet mansion," I said. "Fucking Monet mansion, Maria."
She looked at me, realization dawning in her eyes. "Wait, I thought the name of the architect was Monet."
"Then maybe the architect lived here?" I said as we pulled up in the driveway. "How is his name Allard then?"
I got out of the car. Mr. Allard was waiting for us on top of the million stairs which led into his house. Someone was leaning against a pillar, and I recognized her after a few moments.
"She is the girl who liked Minnie but ran away when I said she is blind," I whispered to Maria as we climbed a million steps.
"She looks younger. Can't blame her for being overwhelmed." Maria smiled at Mr. Allard as we stood in front of him. I looked around, at the gigantic door which led into the mansion. It was open. The girl had disappeared into it. Inside, I could see two staircases leading to the east and the west of the mansion. In the middle was a wall of giant, irregular windows.
I followed Mr. Allard and Maria around as Maria accessed things. I just looked around, admiring the beautiful place. Everything was decorated with taste. The whole mansion seemed to have white and off-white walls covered with paintings and photographs of Mr. Allard with someone who must be his wife. There were some which had two boys in them, but there were no photos of the boys as grown-ups.
Finally, we entered the kitchen where Mr Allard opened the fridge and gave us a million options for drinks. Maria picked a soda, I just got cold water.
"So, do you think it's a good fit for Minnie?" Mr. Allard asked with a self-assured smile. I realized the man was on the edge of being cocky, but his manners salvaged him.
I looked at Marie who looked happy. She nodded with a smile. "It looks perfect, Mr Allard. The rest of the process should be fast and you will have Minnie by the end of the week."
I didn't say anything, still a bit unsettled by the fact that I wouldn't see Minnie ever after he got her.
. . .
"Minnie, my love." I kissed her little head. "I love you so much."
She meowed, booping my nose. I caressed her whiskers, kissing her all over her little face.
"Dahlia," Marie said. "Are you crying?"
"I'm not crying. You're crying." I wiped the tears from under my eyes. "Shut up. Don't say anything about this. I am aware this is stupid."
Marie watched me, used to being shut out when I felt anything. She gave me a jerky nod and looked down at the paperwork she was looking over.
I set Minnie back down in her cage, muttered goodbye to Marie, and walked out of the shelter.
I got into my car. The night was whispering on the edges of the horizon like a natural vignette. I drove mindlessly for a while, trying to get my emotions under control.
I ended up in front of my Uncle's house. Monet's house.
I felt like a creep as I stared at the little house. My car was covered in darkness, so anyone looking out of the window couldn't see me. The light was on inside, but they were of a different color than what my uncle used to use.
A hard day, Dahlia? I could almost see him sign as he sat on a chair in his backyard, a book balanced on his one thigh.
Yes, Uncle. I'd sign.
He'd smile. A good day must be coming then.
He was too optimistic for his good sometimes. I never understood how he both hated and loved people. He hated the gossipers but knew almost everything happening. He hated crowds but loved to watch Emilia in her shows.
A knock sounded on my window. I flinched, a scream bubbling in my throat till I looked up at who had knocked.
Hedeon or Andros looked down at me.
But, after just a moment of looking at him, I could somehow tell it was Hedeon. Or it was Andros pretending to be Hedeon. These men were going to fry my little brain.
I rolled the window down. "Hey- I was just passing by, and I just got like really dizzy so I had to stop and-"
"Would you like to come in? For a drink?" He asked, saving me because I had no idea which direction my explanation was going.
"Who is inside?" I asked.
"Just Andros."
I nodded. I was kind of comfortable with Andros.
I parked my car and got out. Hedeon walked to the door with me. I noticed the new security. There were many cameras, too. Hedeon looked up at one of the cameras and then turned the knob. It opened and the inside of the house looked nothing like it had just a few days ago.
Did I hate that? No. I think I would have felt worse if they were using the same furniture as my dead Uncle.
Did I hate the almost-naked Andros cooking dinner in the kitchen? No.
But, did the changes absolutely overwhelm me?
Yes.
. . .
Thots?
My goal for the weekend was to get Soft to 20,000 words. Which is finally completed (this book has 20,503 words, excluding the A/Ns).
I know it's Monday. But I wrote this chapter yesterday before going to sleep so the goal was completed
I don't usually count the words but this is a good way to keep myself motivated. You can't always expect creativity to come to you, unfortunately. Sometimes you need to kidnap it for a weekend.
Btw the quote at the start of this chapter made me sob when I first saw it ages ago. I think I was drunk back then (I probably was tbh).
I think I've used it in some other books, but it's good enough to be reused. And it's fits my baby Dahlia.
Bie biee