want her apartment disturbed. I liked how she had
everything. Like the clothes in her closet. I wanted them to stay just the way
they were. I liked how she had everything organized so her outfits hung
together. Cool outfits, too. Ones I never would’ve thought to put together. And
someday, if I ever had the balls to dress like a rock star in fringed leather
jackets and fur vests with metal accessories, I wanted to make sure I did it
right.
And I was glad Tina was checking in on the apartment because I
had enough to worry about without failing at my home owning obligations. Of
course, the fact that I had an apartment- an “asset ” as my Dad called it-
was still sort of sinking in.
Obviously, I had no intention of selling it. Not only was that a
“poor investment decision,” but the apartment was the best clue I had to who
she really was. So there was no way I could rent it out anytime soon either.
Not with her smell still in there. And her toothbrush. Which I only remembered
because I’d recently considered trying to swab it for a DNA test.
But that wouldn’t be necessary. I got the sense people weren’t
lying to me anymore. And I could be wrong, but despite all the sadness from
losing her sister, I think Carol was actually relieved that I finally knew. Or
at least relieved that she didn’t have to hide it anymore.
I couldn’t help but wonder whether keeping that secret is one of
the reasons she was so tightly wound all these years. Like if she allowed
herself to relax even a little bit the truth would unravel. Because she definitely
seemed more easy going lately.
Maybe it was because I wasn’t throwing up anymore. Not that we’d
talked about it. Or maybe all parents spent the first eighteen years of their
children’s lives worrying that they would screw them up, relaxing only once
they’d been accepted to college. Not that I wasn’t screwed up. It was just that
my parents had come to terms with how screwed up I was at that point, and they
knew it could’ve been worse.
Plus, there was still hope for Chris.
I sat on the bed and flipped open the jewelry box first. The top
compartments were filled with earrings, mostly costume jewelry. All of it was
gaudier than anything I’d seen her wear in the time I spent with her. But it
made me smile because I had always loved big earrings and never knew why.
Carol was the kind of woman that wore delicate, expensive
jewelry that didn’t call attention to itself. Like she wore it more for the
subtle glint it cast when it caught the light than anything.
The top drawer didn’t have jewelry in it at all. It just had a
stack of patches of different countries' flags, the kind of patches people
might sew on a backpack or a jacket if they were that way inclined. I guess
this collection was just for her enjoyment. Each one was smooth and colorful. I
started laying them out on the bed. France, Spain, Germany, Ireland, Brazil,
Argentina, Guatemala, Thailand, Ghana, South Africa, Egypt, Laos. Laos? I
didn’t even know where that was.
The next drawer had a long string of beads in it. Or at least I
thought it was a long string of beads until I pulled it out and discovered it
was a beaded thong.
“Jesus Christ,” I said, dropping it on the bed. What the fuck did
anyone need with one of those?
The last drawer held the Tiffany necklace I’d always admired, a
bracelet that matched, and a ring she always wore. It had fake diamonds in it,
but it looked real. I used to try it on when she’d leave it in the bathroom
after a shower. I remember thinking it was cool that I could wear it on the
same finger that she did.
There was also a little note with my name on it, and I unfolded
the piece of loose leaf carefully.
Kate,
I hope you’re well. If there is an afterlife, I’ll
be missing you right now. If there’s not, don’t take it personally, I’m still
around. Energy is neither created nor destroyed, right?
Anyway, I know you admired this Tiffany necklace
whenever I
everything. Like the clothes in her closet. I wanted them to stay just the way
they were. I liked how she had everything organized so her outfits hung
together. Cool outfits, too. Ones I never would’ve thought to put together. And
someday, if I ever had the balls to dress like a rock star in fringed leather
jackets and fur vests with metal accessories, I wanted to make sure I did it
right.
And I was glad Tina was checking in on the apartment because I
had enough to worry about without failing at my home owning obligations. Of
course, the fact that I had an apartment- an “asset ” as my Dad called it-
was still sort of sinking in.
Obviously, I had no intention of selling it. Not only was that a
“poor investment decision,” but the apartment was the best clue I had to who
she really was. So there was no way I could rent it out anytime soon either.
Not with her smell still in there. And her toothbrush. Which I only remembered
because I’d recently considered trying to swab it for a DNA test.
But that wouldn’t be necessary. I got the sense people weren’t
lying to me anymore. And I could be wrong, but despite all the sadness from
losing her sister, I think Carol was actually relieved that I finally knew. Or
at least relieved that she didn’t have to hide it anymore.
I couldn’t help but wonder whether keeping that secret is one of
the reasons she was so tightly wound all these years. Like if she allowed
herself to relax even a little bit the truth would unravel. Because she definitely
seemed more easy going lately.
Maybe it was because I wasn’t throwing up anymore. Not that we’d
talked about it. Or maybe all parents spent the first eighteen years of their
children’s lives worrying that they would screw them up, relaxing only once
they’d been accepted to college. Not that I wasn’t screwed up. It was just that
my parents had come to terms with how screwed up I was at that point, and they
knew it could’ve been worse.
Plus, there was still hope for Chris.
I sat on the bed and flipped open the jewelry box first. The top
compartments were filled with earrings, mostly costume jewelry. All of it was
gaudier than anything I’d seen her wear in the time I spent with her. But it
made me smile because I had always loved big earrings and never knew why.
Carol was the kind of woman that wore delicate, expensive
jewelry that didn’t call attention to itself. Like she wore it more for the
subtle glint it cast when it caught the light than anything.
The top drawer didn’t have jewelry in it at all. It just had a
stack of patches of different countries' flags, the kind of patches people
might sew on a backpack or a jacket if they were that way inclined. I guess
this collection was just for her enjoyment. Each one was smooth and colorful. I
started laying them out on the bed. France, Spain, Germany, Ireland, Brazil,
Argentina, Guatemala, Thailand, Ghana, South Africa, Egypt, Laos. Laos? I
didn’t even know where that was.
The next drawer had a long string of beads in it. Or at least I
thought it was a long string of beads until I pulled it out and discovered it
was a beaded thong.
“Jesus Christ,” I said, dropping it on the bed. What the fuck did
anyone need with one of those?
The last drawer held the Tiffany necklace I’d always admired, a
bracelet that matched, and a ring she always wore. It had fake diamonds in it,
but it looked real. I used to try it on when she’d leave it in the bathroom
after a shower. I remember thinking it was cool that I could wear it on the
same finger that she did.
There was also a little note with my name on it, and I unfolded
the piece of loose leaf carefully.
Kate,
I hope you’re well. If there is an afterlife, I’ll
be missing you right now. If there’s not, don’t take it personally, I’m still
around. Energy is neither created nor destroyed, right?
Anyway, I know you admired this Tiffany necklace
whenever I
Similar Books
