Hearts of Deceit (ManxMan)

Ch 24: Hearts of Hope

You're turning eighteen, huh? My dad's voice filtered through the walkman. 

Well, I'll keep this short. We love you kiddo. Your ma and I. We want the best and whatever you do with your life, just know what I always told you. You get the cards you're dealt and you gotta be the one to make 'em work. Life's shit most of the time. People screw you over. But there's family and love and all that. Ha, not being real eh, motivating am I? Look, I'm trying to say that we love you and there's people all around who'll love you and for all the rock bottoms you'll hit, there'll be those moments of joy that make just that make it just a little bit more worth it to enjoy our numbered days.....Ha, I'm rambling. Promise I'll get you a better gift next year. Love you. 

After waiting centuries, I had finally forced myself to listen to the tape. It happened in the room of my parent's house. I'd decided to rent it out to some lovely old couple but they wouldn't be here for another week. For the time being, I'd celebrate my first day out of the hospital here. Tomorrow, I was heading back to the mansion to pick up my things. After a few weeks of dead silence, I had called Hans to let them know.  

It was finally time to move on, I thought. I didn't spill the tears I thought I would quietly listening to the last present my dad would ever give me. There weren't any to spill. There was something a bit more peaceful, a bit more calming in the way feelings of nostalgia and longing washed over me. I felt...content. They were gone and still right by my side. Always would be. I leaned into the dusty old sofa and clutched the walkman close to me. My eyes shut tight.

"You won't believe this, dad. Don't tell mom! But damn, if only people knew what a delta could do. So, it started in this shitty old cell, alright? Dominic-fuckface-Seraz..."

-8-

The drive to the mansion carried about the same feelings as a medieval prisoner being led to the chopping block by the executioner. Or was it a bit more like slowly walking the plank and into the abyss of shark-infested waters? In any case, the time it took to get there felt dragged out and like I was going at lightning speeds. I couldn't get there fast enough, and I was going too fast. Explain that one, Einstein. I got this whole new angle on time relativity or whatever.

When the banged up car I had borrowed from Elise pulled up to the wrought-iron gates tangled with vines, something in my chest twisted. No, no, no Fitzroy. Shove those feelings down. We've gone over this. But still-

My inner monologue was promptly shut down as the gates opened, and I hesitantly  drove into the expansive driveway. The banged up blue Toyota seemed criminally out of place next to the sleek black Rolls Royce parked a few feet away. I got out. 

The walk in was another whole chore that I pulled all of my willpower out to finish. A stout old woman answered the door with a smile, and I felt a touch of guilt not knowing her name. I had refused to let the help slave over me during my short stay but that led to some distancing. 

"Come in, come in. Shoes over here, deary. I'll take your jacket, don't you worry! They're all in the living room on the first floor. Just a right over here." I was a bit flustered as she went about, grabbing my things and insisting I follow her down the hall. I had barely spoken, unable to relay that my temporary room had been in the opposite direction and so were my things. She paid little mind as I was led away in utter confusion. What did they want with me? I had said everything I had needed to in the hospital and they hadn't contacted me since. 

"Really, I just need my things," I urged, following her quick steps. "I'll just pack and go-"

"So eager, aren't you? Slow down a bit." I jumped a little as a muscled arm wove its way around my waist and held firm. We'd reached the end of the hallway leading to the spacious living room. I looked up to see it was Joe who'd caught a hold of me. He was smiling. It wasn't his usual, condescending smirk. It was the playful smile from Portland, the smile on our hike all those years ago. I didn't have enough time to register his hold as he led me further in.