Not That Kind of Place by Michael Melgaard

Author:Michael Melgaard [Melgaard, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: House of Anansi Press Inc
Published: 2023-08-03T20:15:50+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Knocking woke David up the next morning. He’d fallen asleep on the couch with the blinds open; the rising sun shone in on him. He had sweat through his T-shirt and the pillow was soaked. He sat up. The grinding noise started in the kitchen and Becky’s head appeared in the bottom corner of the big living room window. Her cellphone was up at her ear; the other hand shaded her eyes so she could see in. She jumped back, then waved, when she saw David staring at her.

David went down and opened the side door. Becky looked uncertainly at him. David said, “I just woke up, give me a minute.”

“I’ve been up since six. I had to take my youngest to soccer practice. The early mornings are annoying, but I’m trying to enjoy them since Laura is going to move out soon, too.” She stepped in and took her jacket off, hung it on the hook. Slipped her shoes off. She said, “You remember my oldest, Chad? He’s already gone. Moved to Nanaimo for school. Trev has taken a year off to earn some money and was thinking he would get a welding ticket, like his dad. I don’t know about that. It’s such hard work and takes you all over, but you know, everyone needs to make their own path in life. But, like I was saying, Laura is probably going to get a scholarship for soccer, which would help with college but means she’s probably moving away. It’s all hard now, but I’ll miss it when they’re gone.”

David said, “I just woke up, give me a minute.”

He left her in the living room and went to the upstairs bathroom to give himself some space. He used the toilet and ran the shower. The water came out rusty for a minute before it turned clear. His mom had an ensuite bathroom, so no one had used this one in years. He found a two-litre bottle of “European formula” no-name shampoo and a dried cake of soap in the shower. The towel was scratchy and started to smell like mould after it got wet. He put on the clothes he’d been wearing and went downstairs.

Becky smiled at him from the armchair. David went into the kitchen and put on the coffee.

Becky said, “Are you moving?”

David had left a stack of empty boxes in the living room, but had so far put only a couple of knick-knacks and a large marbled bowl he’d always hated in them. He said, “Just getting rid of some stuff.”

“It’s so strange to see the house any different. It’s always been such a comfort to me that it was always the same. I know you felt that way too,” she told David. “Your mom always said how you didn’t like change; she told me how upset you were when they turned your old room into an office.”

“Do you want a coffee?”

“Your mom has a box of Passion Tango tea she keeps for me.”

David opened the cupboard to show her he’d thrown everything out.

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