Adela and her mother find a house to move to, wanting to put memories to rest. The previous occuppent hasn't left though. . .
Right now my mother's arm was around me and squeezing me in a soft hug."Look honey, it's even prettier than the man said!"l, she exclaimed. My head turned to look out the windshield window and I was looking at our new house.
It was two stories, with nearly five rooms on each level, and fireplaces decorating all of the bedrooms, living room, and even the dining room. There were two bathrooms on the second floor, and even one down on the first floor, for what we'd been told was for the servants. The place had been built back in the nineteenth century, or at least the structure had been. From the ad we'd found, the building had been rewired and most of the rooms had been refurnished.
In it's entirety it was a beautiful building. The only problem that I had was that the place looked dark. As in the outside was a dark grey, the eaves a black iron with Victorian designs in them, while the redone roof had black shingles. The entire house reeked of gloominess, something that I didn't need to think about.
We had already looked at the house, and my opinion hadn't changed since then. However, my mother had jumped at the opportunity to move out of our old house. 'Too many bad memories, this'll be great for a new start', she'd told me as she sent the bank letters for an appeal for mortgage. Of course we'd gotten the approval and here we were now.
The moving vans behind us stopped behind our scarlet red Chrysler. It had been a fun road-trip, moving down from Connecticut to New Jersey, but now, faced with the reality of actually living in the house itself, the fun was quickly evaporating. We were in a part of New Jersey that actually had farming land, though us farming was far out of the question, we had decided to rent the land to a couple of farmer's a mile down the road. Probably the only positive thing about moving here was that a city and a town were surrounding us, nearly twenty miles away, leaving me with something to amuse myself during the weekends.
After getting used to the school, heaven know's I would need a night out to get my mind off shit. My mom's arm disappeared and she got out of the car, slamming the door as she did. The noise made me jump and motivated me to get out with her, though more slowly.
There was a bay window in one of the bedrooms, that was supposed to be my mother's room. While my room actually had a balcony to go out and sit on, though I had no clue why my mother made me take the damn room. Knowing my fear of heights, that door would be locked until I went off to college.
I walked to the back of the car, popped the trunk and took one of my suitcases out. We had packed a few day's worth of clothing until we got everything completely unpacked. My mother was digging in her purse, and she pulled out a set of keys that still had the number of the house attached to it.
I nearly laughed at the expression on her face. It was happiness, something that I hadn't seen since my father's funeral, but there was something hollow about it. I didn't question it, but let her have her moment of joy. She was in a pair of denim jeans, with a pink tank top and a unbuttoned sweater over it, looking completely like a soccer mom. Her hair was down, and our Italian roost showed through it's dark strands. I knew she was beautiful, something I could never amount too. I'd inherited her hair, but the rest had come from my Irish dad, a small crooked nose, cheekbones that were nearly always visible, lips that were thin and hardly had any pucker, and a chin that stuck out like a sore thumb. I was a mutt made of different parts with a mother of a higher pedigree.
I tugged the suitcase out of the trunk and walked over to her as she began practically skipping to the front door. The moving guys were starting to unload our heaviest furniture, wanting to get the job done before nightfall. Now our things were decorating the front lawn.
The porch was in a bad need of a sweeping, along with a new floor board here and there. The refurnishing crew must've only done the inside. Fallen leaves off of the trees surrounding the house were covering the gray porch, and they crunched as we stepped on them. She put the key into the lock and let out a long breath as it turned without as much as a squeak. She threw a smile at me as she turned the knob and pushed the door open. And just like that, the door came back and slammed shut in our faces.