A black and white canvas of two skeletons embracing hung above the headboard, a giant gothic version of The Lovers tarot card, complete with faded edges that made it look well-loved. Riley’s professionally done portrait hung above my desk, taken last year on Christmas, when I ordered matching festive pajamas for the two of us. Lastly was a photo of my parents, tucked behind a stack of books on my nightstand. I didn’t like looking at it often, yet I couldn’t bring myself to put it away where I would never see it.
My fingers trailed along the bookcase next to my closet door, not a speck of dust in sight from where my sister probably stress-cleaned my entire house multiple times while I was away. Carefully, as if they were made of glass and not durable cardstock, I picked up a deck of tarot cards that lay on the top shelf next to a few special editions I owned.
I didn’t know how to read them; my parents weren’t exactly the religious type by any means. My grandmother did her best to try and give my sister and me the type of upbringing she thought wedeserved, but nothing ever stuck long enough when my mother had her way. The tarot deck had been a gift of sorts from one of my friend's parents, a few months after we had to bury her in her final resting place.
Brooke had taken her own life when we were just freshmen in high school. The set had been hers when she had been alive. She had been obsessed with learning the art and knew more about astrology than anyone else I had known at that age. I had been her only friend since middle school; our peers thought it was better to mock her for her different beliefs than to accept her. Though I cherished the deck her parents had given me, she was also immobilized in my skin amongst the flowers. I didn’t have to believe in her way of thinking to value her as a person; I just wished it had been enough. My homage to her was carried with me daily, making sure she would never be forgotten.
I set the deck back in its proper place before I could become too emotional by thinking about Brooke. If only she could see what a life awaited after high school. Josh had been her final straw. A boy she had believed truly cared about her, only to turn around and betray her trust. As an adult, I know it wasn’t just about Josh, that there were so many layers when it came to making that choice. The child in me just wished to go back and hug my friend one last time and tell her about Daxton. Prove to her that there were real men who protected girls like her.
“Come here, bud,” I patted the bed, prompting Riley to jump up and lie down while I changed into my favorite pair of pajamas, refusing to get sucked down the rabbit hole of the past.
The sounds of rain and thunder filled the room as I turned on my sound machine. White noise was a must-have for when I was trying to sleep. All I wanted to do right now was lie down with my dog and give my body and mind a good reset before my sister got off work later.
Grabbing a fleece blanket from an old steamer trunk at the foot of my bed, I didn’t bother pulling down the covers before settling into the nest of pillows. Riley didn’t need to wait for an invitation before joining me, lying down with his back against me as I wrapped my arm around him. Nothing was more comforting than lying down with him. He was the complete definition of a security blanket for me, and before long I was drifting off to sleep.
Barking woke me up with a start, Riley's excited barking and whining were audible even over my still playing sound machine. He was no longer with me in bed. From the sounds of him, he was most likely downstairs. Rolling over, I glanced at my bedside clock, groaning as I realized I had slept the entire morning and afternoon away. It was just past six in the evening, so I’d bet my sister was the cause of his sudden excitement.
Even though I slept for almost seven hours in the middle of the day, I felt more refreshed than I had during most of my stay at the clinic. Turning off my sound machine, I quickly made my way downstairs just as the front door started to unlock. Riley was bouncing around between looking out the front window and coming to the door until she finally got it open.
“Hey, boy!” She greeted Riley enthusiastically as she deposited her bags on the rustic table sitting beside my door. “Hey, Rae,” she said a little more somberly as she kicked the door shut with her foot and pulled me into a rib-breaking hug.
“It’s good to be home,” I told her as I let her squeeze the life out of me. Riley circled around us impatiently waiting for his turn at all the attention. The German Shepherd didn’t bond with many people; those he did let into his limited inner circle, he expected constant attention from.
Riley wedged his head between our bodies, causing us to laugh at his antics. Once we were separated, he sat between us, glancing at each of us expectantly until Michelle finally bent over to give him a big hug, to which he licked half her face in greeting.
“I’ve seen you every day, boy, you’re being ridiculous,” she chided half heartedly. “If you want to feed this monster, I have Chinese takeout in the car I picked up to celebrate.” She stood, tucking the loose strands of her dark hair behind her ears and looking better than the last time I had seen her, the stress no longer weighing her down.
“Sounds good to me. Come on, Riley. Dinner.” He didn’t need any more encouragement after hearing food was coming and followed me happily to the kitchen.
After scooping out his kibble and placing it into his personalized bowl, I gave him the command to sit before giving him his meal. Riley was always eager to learn and even more eager to please. Food was his main motivation for listening ever since he was a puppy.
The sound of the door shutting again was the only noise other than Riley’s loud chewing. Usually, I would have the television or radio on as some sort of background noise. Tonight was different; I wanted to focus all of my attention on my sister.
She placed the bags onto the counter and started pulling containers out of each one. Black pepper chicken and fried rice for me, general tso's chicken with white rice for her, and a shit ton of egg rolls for us to split. Neither of us bothered to grab plates or silverware, both preferring to use the cheap chopsticks that came with the food. Neither of us enjoyed doing the dishes either, so the less mess to clean up after a meal, the better.
I placed my food on the small island in the kitchen, letting Michelle fix our drinks while I stuck Riley out the back door to let him use the bathroom. Standing at the door, I watched him through the window, the photos I had received in the mail still plaguing my mind to the point I didn’t want to let him out of my sight.
When I wasn’t outside with him, Riley didn’t tend to linger. Within a couple of minutes of casual sniffing and doing his business, he was back at the door and ready to come inside. Though I doubted it was just to be with me, since he was usually able to persuade Michelle to part with an egg roll every time we got Chinese food.
I took my seat next to my sister at the kitchen island and took a large sip of the glass of wine she had poured me.
“Thanks, Mickey,” I said before shoveling a huge bite of food into my mouth.
“I’m just glad to have you home. It hasn’t been the same since you’ve been away.”
“You make it sound like I’ve been off at war. I was just twenty minutes down the street.” I shrugged it off, remembering that there were people out there who had it a lot worse than we did. Some people’s loved ones never made it home from trips to the hospital.
“A mental war, maybe,” She said around a mouthful of her own food.
“It’s fine, Michelle, really, I promise I’ll be okay.”
“Are you sure? Because I don’t think any of this is going to be okay until that psychopath is in jail.” Even though Michelle couldn’t come to every visitation while I was away, we at least managed daily check-ins by phone. I had kept her up to date on any bit of information Officer Johnson had told Daxton. Sadly, it wasn’t a lot, and I think the lack of progress wasweighing on us both.
“If they find him and can prove he’s guilty at least.”
“He’s guilty. Who else would have tucked their bodies back into their own beds? Biggest sign of remorse, any idiot that watches true crime shows knows that.”
“I hadn’t heard that detail yet.”
