His House

(Nelle - do you get this one?)


The house looks great. He has had so many plans, big plans, for so long. He is thrilled to see it all falling into place. The kitchen is just the way she always wanted it. It was never big enough. Never had enough counter space. Or cabinets. It’s so much bigger now. Top notch too. Cherry cabinets, hand rubbed. Travertine floors, rugged and pleasing. Granite counter tops, hard and sturdy. The appliances, new. Look at that oven. He can almost smell the hot, sweet aroma filling the kitchen. Chocolate cake. His favorite. She is such a good cook. She spoils him. She must have bought new pots. They are hanging from the new rack, like broken tree branches.

The den is almost perfect. The wormy maple walls, the natural stone fireplace, the big screen TV. Ah the smell of burnt logs. Pungent but comforting. He remembers that smell from childhood. There’s not near enough seating for their big family though. He knows the old furniture was worn, but this stuff is too small. It doesn’t even look comfortable. The old couch was broken in nicely, even if it didn’t look like much. And they need to bring the board games up from the basement. It will be nice to hang out in this cozy room. The basement was always so damp. He needs to figure out where she put his side table. He knows she hates it. But it’s his favorite, wobbly legs, scratches and all. He’s a little hurt she didn’t put it in here. He can see she has finally framed the old family pictures. She always said she wanted to do that. They must be of her family he hasn’t met yet. You’d think after all these years they would have made the trip to England to visit her home place. Money has always been so tight.

The smell of fresh paint. Some don’t like it. He thinks it smells wonderful, new. It’s the perfect shade of blue. His son will like that. The walls were white before. Dingy and scuffed. The hole behind the door, round, knob-shaped is gone. He always meant to put a door stop there. He can’t believe the bunk beds are back though. He thought they got rid of those two years ago. They must have been in the basement. His son can’t be happy with that. Or the teddy bears resting on the pillows. After all, he’s in middle school now. Bunk beds are a little young for him. She doesn’t want him to grow up. He needs to talk to her about that.

His cell phone is ringing again. His sister. She keeps calling. She’s so upset. She keeps telling him he doesn’t belong here. Says she’s coming to get him. Doesn’t belong here? This is his house. His home. He doesn’t know what she is talking about. He’s worried about her. She hasn’t been acting right lately. Keeps telling him things that aren’t true. Very strange. She’s not well.