Anxiety flooded me as the gravel crunched under the tires.
The car swallowed up the road, moving closer to the giant abode in the decreasing distance.
It looked so different to what I remembered of its predecessor, and yet, eerily similar. The perfect descendant stood, proud and white. A grand manor with a wraparound porch and a vast balcony adorning the entire second floor, which immediately called your eyes to feast upon it.
I blinked, taking in my new home and its surroundings. The grassy field was still littered with daisies. The stream still flowed south. The trees, as always at this time of year, were edged with a beautiful shade of amber.
“What do you think?” he asked. . . my Woodrow.
He'd been himself for a full fifty seconds, ever since we turned down this road.
A switch during driving was the scariest thing I'd faced in days, and that was a blessing, as I'd been traveling with Hell, who, with his heavy foot, was all too eager to get us here. He’d been present since yesterday morning after a brief switch with Woodrow, who’d driven us for breakfast to some drive-through place. The cop car trailing behind us brought him enough apprehension for him to need an escape. Which, resulted in me traveling the rest of the journey with Hell and the kitten who constantly annoyed him by meowing nonstop.
Bushy tail, as I called the little guy, was asleep now, nestled comfortably in my lap.
His gentle purr rumbled as Woodrow reached over to smooth his ginger fur.
It was soothing for them both.
“I thought it burned down.” My thoughts came out loud.
“It did. It burned to the ground. This is a completely new house. For you. A place to call home.”
“Why here?” I wondered, gawking at the house getting larger and more overpowering as we got closer.
The seat of a swingset blew in the gentle breeze, giving the view an eerie, yet somehow, peaceful feel.
“The baby is here, and we already own the land. Plus, there's money buried everywhere. I saw my father burying thousands of dollars dozens of times.”
“From human sales?”
“That would be the obvious assumption.”
“And you're okay with spending that?”
“Some of it paid for the house. His job stole your life. His dirty money could give you it back.”
He pulled the parking brake and turned off the engine. The giant house now loomed above us.
“I can't save the world, Jolie. But I could save the person who means the world. . . to me.”
I gazed out the window, cranked down midway. The house was pretty and clean. A giant dollhouse for his little doll.
“Will you take me to see the baby?” My face softened, the ice that formed around my heart over the idea of living in this space melted as I focused on him wanting to be close to our baby.
And Iwanted that, too.
A message from his mourning, surrounded by the angels of heaven, sat at the joining point of a grand white cross, the color not yet faded by the heat of Georgia. Baby pink rosaries hung around the cross' neck, the grass strands tickling Jesus's toes.
Pink flowers accompanied by daisies surrounded the memorial. Small drawings of the same flowers surrounded her name. Daizee Heaven. The little toys that she never got to play with, placed on her resting spot, brought a tear to my eye.
My fingers feathered my angel's toys.
“Hey, baby.” Woodrow kneeled behind me, his hand on the cross. He had a smile on his lips, but the expression didn't hide the sheen glossing his eyes. “I told you I'd bring Mommy to see you.”
The golden sun peeped through fluffy clouds, hugging us with its warmth. Bushy Tail jumped and played, following a butterfly with the most beautiful wings—a creature he couldn't catch—through the flowers. For a minute, he stole my attention, as I glanced around, uncomfortable over the idea of almost losing him in the longer strands of grass.
He popped up again, his head before the rest of him, and he made his way to Woodrow. If our baby had lived and grown into a little girl, would she have loved animals like her father? Would she be out here, playing with this kitten or any other furry friends?
