I would like to thank my friend Randi, for her generosity, and her editing skills. She turns my scribbles into something that is at least legible. Thank you Randi.
It seemed strange pulling into this driveway. It had been over ten years since I was there last. Shutting off the engine, I leaned back in the seat and stretched. It had been a long drive and I was feeling it.
Taking my time, I cast my eyes over the old place. God, ten years and it looked like yesterday. Not a damned thing had changed. Throwing open the door, I stepped out into the bracing late afternoon air. It was autumn, and the night air was just a tad chillier than a month before.
Walking around the car, I waved my arms, throwing off the tired muscles.
"All right, here we go," I said to myself. "Let's get this over."
I banged on the front door and waited. I heard the footsteps, the door swung open and my Mother asking. "Hello..."
"Hey, Mum." I mumbled.
Her shock was obvious, her eyes bulged and her mouth dropped open. "Rory..." I could see her trying to get words to formulate. "Sorry, love, we didn't think you would come."
"To my Fathers funeral? Of course I came."
She stepped into the door and opened her arms. "Oh, Rory love, it's good to see you." She stepped back giving me the once over. "You're filled out."
"Yeah, eating too much, not enough exercise. How are you holding out, Mum?"
I felt her body trembling as she sobbed, the front of my cotton shirt damp with her tears.
She stepped back and I walked into our family home. Like the outside, nothing much had changed. I heard chatter coming from the dining room at the back. I glanced at Mum, and she said, "Your sisters are here, as well."
A young boy came barrelling up the hallway, screaming, "Gran, you have to come quick, there's somebody on the phone for you."
She smiled and gave me a pat on the arm. "Everybody's in the dining room. Come along, they are all going to be so surprised."
The little boy gave me a big smile before running back up the hallway.
I followed Mum as she walked into the dining room. "Look who's here," she warbled nervously.
The chatter had been loud, with lots of gossipy giggling, but the moment they turned to see who it was, the chatter stopped; it didn't die slowly, it just stopped dead.
The expression on my eldest sister's face was a picture. "Rory," she gasped.
"Hello, Sloane, how are you?"
My other sister, Lila, snorted. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm here for the funeral, what the hell do you think?"
"Ten years and you think you can just walk in here? You haven't wanted a bloody thing to do with us. Christ, what a bloody cheek."
I watched the little boy standing beside Sloane, peering over the chair. His eyes showed a little anxiety, the raised voices obviously scaring him.
Mum walked back in, having finished her phone call. "Would you like something to eat, Rory?"
"Nah, no thanks, Mum. I thought I would just stop in and say hello. See if you needed a hand."
"Son, how did you hear about your father?"
"Uncle Albert called me."
Her face was a picture of shocked confusion. "He knew where you were?"
"Yeah, he had my number for emergencies."
She rubbed her hands together nervously. "He never mentioned that."
"I asked him not to. Don't blame him." The chilly atmosphere started to get to me. "Okay, I might go and sort out a hotel."
"You can stay here, Rory; there's no need to run off," Mum threw back quickly.
"No, I think I will find a hotel. Others may need a room. I don't want to put you out."
"This is your home, Rory. I would like you to stay." A hint of determination came filtering through.
With a resigned sigh, I replied. "Yeah, okay, Mum. I'll go out and get my bags."
As I walked out the hallway, the chatter started, except this time it was snarly. The girls weren't happy. "Fuck them," I said to myself.
Extracting my backpack, I locked the car and headed back to the battle ground. "Which room Ma?" I called from the hallway.
"Your old room, of course."
Swinging open my old bedroom door was again like being transported back in time. It was exactly like I left it. As I threw my back pack on the bed, I noticed the young kid standing in the doorway staring at me. "Hey, what's your name?" I asked.
He just stared at me, his fingers holding onto the door frame. He was apparently shy. "You can come in you know, I don't bite."
I decided to reach out my hand, but as soon as I did, he took off like a scalded cat.