Page 29 of The Second Chance Cinema
“Speaking of violence,” Naomi started. She wasn’t good at segues. “The other night, we found a dead rabbit on the porch. He was all torn up, poor little guy.” Ellie must have been quick to show her disgust because Drake darted in to change the subject.
“Maybe we could all say what we’re grateful for?” he suggested. While Ellie appreciated his attempt, her family tended to avoid discussing things like gratitude or feelings of any kind.
“I’ll go first,” William volunteered. Ellie braced herself on the table to keep from falling out of the chair in disbelief. Her dad picked up a napkin and wiped some soup off the corners of his mouth. “I’m grateful to have you here, Ellie. And spend some time with you, Drake. We’ve got”—he rubbed his chin and concentrated—“what, about six months until the big day?” Ellie was surprised that her dad was keeping track of their wedding. In fact, he hadn’t brought up the wedding at all beyond his recent offer of a gift.
Ellie had never responded to that message, she realized.
Drake nodded. “Almost exactly,” he said. “Everything is right on schedule. We’re going cake tasting tomorrow afternoon. And once we’ve ordered the cake, she’s not getting out of this.” Ellie chuckled. William’s features tightened, as if Drake’s suggestion was meant to be taken seriously. He seemed to think Ellie might run out on her own wedding, and the cake would be the fence to prevent that from happening. Ellie wasn’t going anywhere, which she tried to convey by linking her arm around Drake’s. Her dad stared into his soup.
“Well then, I guess it’s time we got to know each other better,” William said. “I’m grateful you drove out here, too. I know it’s a long one, and this place …” He studied the room with fresh eyes. “This place probably isn’t your style,” he said to Ellie. His voice was gentle.
“It’s fine,” Ellie told him because she wasn’t sure what to say. She considered complimenting the watercolor bison painting on the wall that had been posed like a president. “Thank you for having us,” she offered instead.
When William finished sharing his gratitude, Naomi was next in line. She was grateful for moths, she said. Ellie feared her soupmight come up her nose. Most people took moths for granted or thought of them as pests, Naomi explained. But she liked the way they could move out of the dark toward the light. “They’re hopeful creatures.”
Drake was thankful for Ellie. Family. The food, which he lied and said was delicious.
Then, it was Ellie’s turn to speak. “I guess that I’m grateful for …” She reached for a sip of her water, wanting to stop what she was about to say and struggling to find the pause button. The need to know was too strong. This need had a six-pack, Hulk arms. “Why did you invite us here, Dad?”
William pushed his bowl away. He paused and analyzed Ellie for a long moment. There was no unspoken language between Ellie and her father, just the lived-in confusion of neither of them knowing how to talk to the other and being afraid to admit that. Her question hovered in the air above their heads, an uncomfortable layer right beneath the light fixture. “I’ll clear the plates,” he said, which ended the conversation.
Ellie, Drake, and Nancy escaped to the guest room after dinner. It was a mutual escape. When the dishes were done, her dad said, “We’ll be outside for a bit.” There were only two chairs out there. It seemed his new routine involved reading Stephen King under the light of the moon. He had all the time in the world to devourItandChildren of the Corn, although none, apparently, for reading his own daughter’s book. She’d sent him a copy back when it came out. He’d never mentioned it.
“I like how quiet it is here,” Drake said, next to her on the twin bed. Ellie was dizzy. None of the lamps in the house seemed to fully work, which made the bears on the wallpaper look like they were dancing. Ellie readjusted herself on the mattress. It was abominable, that mattress. They also had a dog in their bed.Nancy usually slept on the floor, but tonight, all bets were off. Whenever she was somewhere new, that space became hers to conquer. Ellie had already caught Nancy lying on every piece of furniture her dad owned.
“I hate the quiet,” Ellie said.
“Yeah, well, who knows?” Drake reached his arm out for her. “Maybe you’ll change someday. Maybe you’ll want us to get a cabin of our own. Seems like that kind of thing runs in your blood.”
Ellie despised the phrase “runs in your blood” even more than the wallpaper. Those words made her choices seem inevitable, as if every moment or trait was already mapped out. What Drake said was an easy-breezy idiom for someone who got along with the people who raised him. The quilt nibbled at her arms. Drake was never in a rush to leave his parents’ condo when they visited. Dinners dipped toward midnight, the four of them flipping through Beth’s scrapbooks and half-watching television, Robert always sending them away with some little gift or trinket that he’d picked up in town.
How much of Ellie’s dad, exactly, did run through her blood? If they were to have kids, would Ellie also be a source of continual disappointment?
“Whatcha thinking over there?” Drake asked.
“Nothing,” Ellie said. She got up and retreated to the minuscule attached bathroom. The lights were dim when she turned them on. One of Naomi’s moth pals head-banged the fixture. By the time Ellie finished brushing her teeth, Drake was falling asleep, and she was ready, sort of, to talk.
“I just still think,” Ellie started. “I mean, it’s weird, right? This visit. He hasn’t extended us a serious invitation the whole time we’ve been together. He abandoned our family and ran off to the woods. And now, out of nowhere, he wants the company of his daughter?”
“Maybe your dad thinks you’re judging him.” Drake yawned. “For his place, his choices, Naomi. It’s different from your old life. He knows that.”
“Judge?” Ellie balked. “I don’t judge people. I don’t do that.”
“Okay,” Drake said, weighing his words. “Well, did something big ever happen between you two? Something that started all of this … weirdness?”
“There was one big thing, yeah,” Ellie told him. “But there were alsoa lotof little things.”
Drake kissed her forehead. The bed retaliated with a loud squeak when she scooted to the edge of it and sat back down. “I’m exhausted,” he said. “You tired?”
Ellie wasn’t tired. The idea of staying in the guest room became unbearable. Each time she tried to get comfortable, the springs of the mattress sank their claws deeper. So, she zipped up her puffy coat, collected some musty blankets, and retreated to the front porch.
It was cold outside; she couldn’t see her own breath, but a chill tickled her back. On so many occasions, Ben had misled her about the nature of the woods. He made the trees and the stars seem like a lush, atmospheric adventure waiting to be peeled open. The air had been electric that night at the abandoned mansion; being outside felt safe because they were together.
But now, she was alone, and the shadows of the trees grew taller in the dark. Every rustle put Ellie on edge. She wouldn’t be able to sleep anywhere here, which was confirmed when the rustling became louder. Ellie startled, stood, and moved to the edge of the porch. Normally, she ran from pending danger, but her curiosity got the best of her. Cocooned inside a blanket, she moved down the first step, onto the second, and then the animal behind the sound showed itself.
A rabbit with black eyes lit by a low moon sat at the edge of the porch. Its eyes seemed to widen at the sight of her, but the creaturesettled in place when Ellie paused her steps. She was never sure what she was supposed to do around animals other than dogs. “Hello,” she said with a wave. “How is your night going, friend?”
The rabbit stayed still. She wondered if it was here on neutral terms or to search for its fallen companion. Her stance turned to a crouch out of curiosity, but as soon as she lowered herself, the rabbit was gone, darting back to whatever mysterious place it came from.
