Page 42 of Hearts Etched in Glass
Everyone shakes their heads. “Thanks for telling us, jack ass,” Kenneth retorts and takes a long drag of his cigarette. We get ready to leave the confines of pompous aristocracy. We’ve decided to leave the place to burn to the ground. Kenneth was going to clean the area and bury the bodies, but instead sets it up like these pompous cunts ran into business with the wrong individuals.
“Who we pinning this on?” Bobby asks Kenneth while we walk back to the trucks. Kenneth has his hands in his pockets, kicking a stone, while a cigarette sits between his lips.
“Everett said the Italians.” Before I can ask about how this can tie together, I jump nearly the height of Bobby as a cold, grueling hand wraps around my wrist and an eerie voice shouts behind me, “Boo!” Bobby jumps alongside me, while Tilly’s beautiful laugh echoes in my ears.
“Fucking hell, woman, you’re gonna give us a heart attack,” Kenneth remarks then throws his cigarette onthe ground. Baba just runs up behind him, smacking Kenneth on his stiff arse as her cackle fills the night sky.
Chapter 22: Tilly
Liar,Jelly Roll
The telephone rings within my flat, giving me pause, for it is early in the morning before my shift.
Rushing over to the phone, I pick up the cold receiver and hold it against my ear.
“Hello?” I ask.
In response I’m surprised to hear my mother’s voice.
“Tilly? Oh God, Tilly!” Her voice is cracking.
“What’s wrong, mother?” I briskly respond.
She gives an exasperated exhale, then inhales, trying to steady her breathing and compose herself. “It’s your father. He is sick. Can you come home?” Then her voice breaks off and she begins softly sobbing over the phone.
“Of course.” Then I hang up the receiver and quickly call the hospital to notify them I won’t be in for a shift, because of an ill parent, hopefully it isn’t worse. My mother and father always feign their ill health and stress though I never believed anything would come about it because they’ve always threatened to carry a short life. After hearing it time and time again, you become numb to the statement.
Guilt settles in my chest at the thought something horrible has happened to father.
I call Bobby’s residence and it continuously rings. Same with Marcus’s.
So, I call their office and leave a note with the receptionist, asking her to notify them of my ill father. She agrees, but I don’t trust she will follow through for the woman is dense.
Sweet, but dense.
Flying down the countryside, the manor comes into view. It’s two stories but stands at three to four stories because of the pretentious windows and vaulted ceilings, with approximately ten bedrooms. The gray, marble stone pillars shine in the sunlight. As I pull up to the house I am greeted by my mother and her assistant Meryll, dressed in her navy blouse and skirt, with the same white apron. Mother opens her arms wide and embraces me with a hug.
“What’s wrong with Father?” I ask as I take a step back, causing the hug to be short lived, she frowns at me. Her golden hair is tucked back into a tight bun. Her pink is dress brighter than the sun.
“Dear, what are you wearing?” is her response, not answering my question, so I begin marching inside the house towards their wing.
“I’m in my hospital attire, mother; I was supposed to go to my job but instead came here since you alerted me to Father’s ill health. Now, what’s wrong with him? Maybe I can assist since I’m a nurse.” I turn towards her with my arms out in question.
She takes a handkerchief to her eyes and tears begin to threaten her eyes.
“He was already seen by a doctor and your brother has assessed him as well. They were out hunting, and your father’s heart has been poorly ever since our conflict. He is resting at the moment, you can see him later when he awakes,” she retorts, then gives a small sniffle.
Meryll steps forward, her bony, elderly hand gently takes my forearm, “It’s good to see you, deary. Everyone is so stressed lately, why don’t you go lay down in your old room. Maybe after everyone has calmed, we can have some tea? Yeah?” Then she proceeds to lead me down the hallway towards my childhood room. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle.
The hallway aligned with old, painted family portraits. The same pristine rugs lay upon the floor. Nothing touched within the wing where my room resides.
“It is strange to see all you children grown. You’ve turned into such a lovely young lady. So intelligent, so driven, yet still stubborn.” She pats my forearm with her other hand as we turn into my childhood room. I breathe it in. It still smells the same, and not in a comforting way as most would assume.
The small girl inside me tosses and turns, feeling uneasy. My stomach writhes.
Meryll lets go of my forearm and walks to the window, pointing down towards the gardens. “You know we planted new items and changed the pattern, bringing in more colors than crimson and pink! Come take a look, your room has the best vantage point.” She taps on the glass and then moves toward my bed to fluff the ivory, satin pillowcase.
I walk towards the window, the floor eerily creaking underneath my feet. My breathing picks up as small memories of my childhood flood my mind. My younger self sitting near that window crying over the mistreatment by my parents. The echoes of my mother telling me I wouldn’t amount to anything if I chose the path of a nurse instead of a physician. The silent screaming into my pillow to try and release the anger and hate. The thought of how I would cut into my skin to bleed the frustration out, in order to find some sort of release.
