Obsession Falls(3)

It was weird to realize all my belongings fit in this car. My last roommate had owned most of the furniture we’d used. As for the rest, I’d decided to purge rather than move everything again. I’d start over once I found a more permanent place to live.

Soon. I’d find my own place soon.

For now, I’d make the best of it.

Max put his front paws on the dash, his body practically vibrating with excitement. I had no idea what kind of dog he was—the rescue group in Boise hadn’t either—other than forty-five pounds of brown and white derpy joy. He wasn’t exactly the smartest, and if someone ever tried to rob me, he’d probably roll on his back and ask for belly rubs rather than protect me. But he never failed to make me smile.

I got out and Max followed, running a quick lap around my legs before darting to the front door. I ducked back into the car to fish around for a leash. My mom wasn’t a dog person and she’d freak out if I let him run free on the first day.

“I know you want to run amok in there, but we can’t have that.” I clipped the leash to his collar. “Grandma won’t like it.”

She also didn’t like me referring to her as Grandma to a dog. But it wasn’t my fault I was an only child and all her grandmother hopes had been pinned on me. That was a lot of pressure.

Especially considering I was still single.

Sigh.

My heartbeat quickened as I reached for the doorknob. Moving back to Pinecrest, the small town in the Cascade mountains where I’d grown up, had never been the plan. Like, never ever. But there I was with a car packed full of stuff, about to attempt a temporary roommate situation with my mother so I could start a new job.

Maybe it was a huge mistake. Taking the job. Moving back. It felt like coming home with my tail between my legs. Such a failure.

This was what happened when you got laid off and couldn’t find another job for months on end. Your savings dwindled and you jumped at the chance to work at a small-town newspaper, even when it was in Tilikum, one town away from where you’d grown up.

“Come on.” I wasn’t sure if I was talking to myself or to Max. Didn’t really matter. They were basically the same thing. “This is going to be fine.”

I opened the door and the scent of my childhood greeted me. The house always smelled like Downy dryer sheets with an undertone of Clorox. The inside was just as stately and formal as the front. Marble floors, stylish furniture, expensive art. It was quite lovely, although I always felt under-dressed when I visited, as if the atmosphere required a dress and heels, rather than my tank top, shorts, and sandals.

I kept an eye out for Mom’s cat, Duchess. Hopefully she’d smelled Max and was staying upstairs. Max wouldn’t hurt a fly, but his version of play was probably not what my mom’s cat would consider fun.

In the formal living room, off to the right, a family portrait hung on the wall above the gas fireplace. The three of us were dressed to the nines, Dad in a full suit and me and Mom in black evening dresses. I’d always thought it looked stuffy, but Mom called it elegant.

It was weird to see my Dad smiling down at me, knowing he wasn’t going to waltz through the door after work, his big voice booming. It had been over two years since he’d passed, but it was easy to forget he was gone.

“Mom?” I called, keeping Max next to me despite his clear desire to tear through the house and explore. “I’m here.”

“Audrey.” She alighted at the top of the stairs, as if she were posing for a magazine spread, dressed in a beige blouse and tan slacks. “It’s so good to see you.”

I did not look like my mother. She was tall and thin with blue eyes and short silvery-blond hair, whereas I’d inherited my father’s darker features—thick brown hair, brown eyes. Despite my childhood dreams of being taller than my mom, I’d topped out at five foot four and by the time I turned fifteen, I’d been too curvy to borrow her clothes.

“Hi, Mom.”

Her eyes flicked to Max and I didn’t miss the micro-expression of displeasure that crossed her features.

“He’s leashed. I won’t let him jump up on you or anything.”

Max’s tail beat against the marble floor as she approached. He dropped to his back and held his paws in the air, hoping for a coveted belly rub.

“I see you still have the dog.”

“He’s very friendly. He wants you to pet him.”

She eyed him again. “Maybe later. How was the drive?”

“Long.” I shrugged. “But fine. No traffic or anything.”

“Well, don’t just stand here in the foyer.” She gestured toward the kitchen. “Come in.”

My dad’s eyes seemed to follow me as I walked by. Creepy.

I went into the kitchen, keeping Max close. I’d have to take him for a walk to help him burn off some of his energy. Poor dog had been in the car too long.

The kitchen was massive, with a huge island, marble counters, and light wood cabinets. A wrought iron light fixture hung above the island with floral frosted glass lampshades and vines twining up to the high ceiling. It was all very winery-esque, down to the big glass jar half-filled with wine corks in one corner.

“Tea?” Mom asked.

“That would be great, thank you.”

I walked Max around, letting him sniff. He stopped to lick a spot on the tile floor and a few steps later, found the transition to the carpet in the family room extremely interesting. He could probably smell my mom’s cat.