Page 46 of Beautiful Beginning

“Your sister and brother aren’t staying. And I have the upstairs all cleaned up. Thought you could stay on this level with me.”

“By cleaned up, what do you mean?” Since leaving for school four years ago, I migrated some of my things to Hill Mount. But majority of the things from my childhood littered my room still. “Did you throw away my stuff?”

“No.” Mom had an agitated look on her face. “I haven’t thrown away anything from any of the rooms upstairs. You, Monroe, and Dre will need to tend to it this week though. Anything remaining after is fair game.”

I wasn’t ready for that either. Packing up all my shit and parading it to Hill Mount or getting it to whichever city after that. I always imagined my stuff would have a home with my parents. In their house. “Okay.” I knew my mom had a lot on her plate, and I didn’t want to add to it. “I’ll clean it out.”

I walked over to the Christmas tree and grabbed a branch. It only had half the decorations as usual. “What happened to the tree?” Only some of the usual ornaments hung on the branches nearby.

“Haven’t had time to get everything together this year.” Her downturned face told me there was more to the story.

I didn’t pry. Instead, I offered, “I don’t have much else to do. Can I help finish decorating? If people are coming to look at the house, a fully decorated tree would be beautiful for them to see.” I blurted, “When Monroe gets here, I’ll make her help me. We’ll make it a thing.”

Mom appeared from the guest room and smiled, “I’d like that. I can run out to the store and get cookies for us to bake too.”

“Perfect.” I stepped away from the tree and nodded. There was a little glimmer of hope. It was possible to make the best of our last Christmas in the house after all.

Mom plopped on the couch and patted the seat beside her. “I assumed you’d be spending Christmas with Chaz. Here or with his family.”

I winced. “Didn’t feel right to miss Christmas here. And…” I wagged my head. “Didn’t exactly want to invite him into this.”

The mantle only held four stockings. I noticed the one that was missing. It couldn’t be because she didn’t finish decorating. The missing stock was intentional.

Mom tapped my leg. “There’s no reason this Christmas won’t be as cheerful as any before it.” With all the power she had, she tried. Tried to appear optimistic.

There was no fooling me though. I knew when she was lying. I didn’t learn that look until I was in high school. Back when she’d give me an excuse about why I couldn’t do something, then later Monroe would let the truth slip. The crinkles in her face formed.

“Mom, all this time, were you acting happy?” It would make sense. I couldn’t think of a time when there were issues between my parents. Not anything that stood out. But if she was trying to be optimistic, against all skepticism, then she fooled me.

“Journey,” she sighed, “honey, your father and I were together for so many years. Of course, I was happy. For many of those.”

I swallowed. “And then?”

“Things happen, and it’s hard to fight a losing battle if you are the only one willing to show up for the war.” She stood from the couch. “I’m going to go get those cookies. Monroe will be pulling up any minute now. If you are going to convince her to do work you’ll know she’ll need an incentive.”

I wanted to laugh but couldn’t. A small smile lifted my lips instead. “You’re right.”

After Mom left, I walked around the house. Tried to see how much changed since Thanksgiving. Family pictures were missing. Nothing with my dad in it displayed on the shelves. The cabinets in the kitchen were void of his cognac glasses. The refrigerator had none of his favorite snacks. It was like he didn’t exist.

By the time Monroe came strolling into the kitchen, I was a blubbering mess. “Journey, oh my goodness, what’s wrong?” She threw her purse to the counter. “Where’s Mama?”

I tried to pull it together. Stuttered my response. “The store.”

“And why are you in the kitchen having a melt down? Did you two get into a fight?”

That would be characteristic of the two of them. Mom and I hardly ever fought. Of the three of us, I was the last my parents worried about. Or so it seemed. After Dre and Monroe were out of the house, there wasn’t much I couldn’t get away with. I calmed and said, “No. Why would we fight?” I reminded her, “Mom is going through enough now. I don’t need to add any stress.” But I pointed to the mantle. “Dad’s stocking isn’t up there.” Then to the cabinets. “His cognac glasses are gone. None of his snacks are in the fridge.”

“Who needs that stinky cheese anyway?” Monroe laughed waving her hand through the air. “Journey, they are getting a divorce. What’d you expect? This place to still hold all his stuff? I assume he grabbed it all when…” her sentence hit a brick wall.

Like with Mom, I could recognize Monroe’s expressions. She fucked up. “Spill it.”

She hurried to the tree and said, “I remember when we decorated the tree altogether growing up. Dre would stick all his ornaments up high.”

I stood behind her. “Nice try. Tell me what you are failing at hiding.”

“And this ornament. Hanging on by a literal thread.” Inside a circle, there was a cutout. It held an image of young Monroe. Dressed up in a pretty red dress. “I can still remember that day. The Christmas dance recital. Dad brought a huge bouquet of red roses to match my dress.” Her eyes downturned before she moved on to another ornament. That one brought a huge smile to her face. “And this one, I tried for years, to lose it.” That one held an image of Monroe with a mouthful of braces. “That’s one investment I appreciate but wish I could forget.”

I cringed. “Tell me about it. Those brace face years were insufferable. We should burn any evidence of it to the ground.” I pointed to the empty branches, that made up half the tree. “We need to finish decorating. Mom said she didn’t get around to it.”

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