Fallen Crest Public(101)

Unsure of what to do, I began cleaning up. The rest of the pizza boxes were put in the garbage bags, along with the beer cases. All of that was taken to outside to trash bins and then I started organizing the mail. He had bills from the fall. When I found one from August, it was the date we left him. My hand trembled as I stuffed the envelope underneath the rest. The magazines were thrown out—they were Analise’s. She never bothered to cancel her subscriptions. The pile I moved to the side were the football ones. All the coaching newsletters went there, too. Then there were the newspapers. Most were still folded together, and I knew he hadn’t opened any of them. All of them were tossed. I put what I could into recycling piles. After sweeping the floor and wiping down the counters, I skimmed over the sink. There weren’t many dishes, but David never dirtied a lot of dishes. The few he did, he cleaned right away. That was something Analise could never complain about.
I glanced around. He still wasn’t back, so I wandered into the living room. I couldn’t bring myself to go upstairs yet. I knew too many memories would surface when I went to my old bedroom, but I took one step into the living room, and memories slammed into me anyway.
He hadn’t touched a thing.
I couldn’t believe it.
The couch hadn’t moved. The two blankets were still folded and perched on the ends. I remember putting them there. I was going to grab them when we left, but she told me not to. She said David would need extra blankets, so I left them. He hadn’t moved them. A box that I had packed was still in the corner. I hadn’t been looking at what I put in there, but she didn’t want it. It was filled with pictures albums, but Analise saw the wedding album on top. She wouldn’t listen when I explained mine were in there, too. That was another item left behind.
I didn’t turn the lights on. For some reason, I couldn’t fathom the idea of sitting there with bright light cast over this room.
“Samantha?”
His keys jingled together as he took them from the door and pushed it open, the screen door banging shut behind him. “Are you in here?”
I hadn’t heard him open the door. “I’m in here.” As I heard him come closer, I brushed the tear from my cheek and stood. I plastered on a bright smile and he paused, frowning at me. He was going to ask if I was okay. I couldn’t lie to him, so I pointed to the two pizza boxes tucked under his arm. “Were they closed?”
“What?”
“The pizza. You went for noodles.”
“Oh.” He glanced down, as if remembering them. “Oh, uh. Yeah. No, I’m sorry. I didn’t know what you wanted so I got pizza. You used to like this, so I’m hoping you still do.”
My stomach growled at that moment.
His eyebrow lifted up. “I guess you do.”
The aroma had filled the room, and I realized I hadn’t eaten since breakfast with Malinda. “Pizza sounds great.”
“Great.”
I nodded.
He stared back at me.
Neither of us moved.
“OH. Um …” He glanced around. “I … we could sit.” His gaze lingered on the couch.
“I cleaned the kitchen. We can sit in there.”
“Okay.” He sounded relieved.
“That’s your routine, right? I don’t want to break you of any habits you picked up when …” When we left him. I flinched. When I left him.
“It doesn’t matter, Samantha. It was something I picked up, waiting if you came back and now,” he gestured to me, “we could go downstairs. That’s where we used to watch television. We could watch a movie.”
“You still have it hooked up downstairs?” A brief spark of hope flared in me. That was our thing. We watched movies together, and Analise stayed upstairs. She didn’t like the basement, said it was like a dark dungeon. It was our haven.