”You sure, you know if the place is clean? ” asked Kacey Troy with the phone pressed against her ear and while stirring a pot of Bolognese sauce in the kitchen.
After adding crushed garlic and freshly chopped herbs one after the other, stirred with a ladle. Preoccupied, though, paused briefly by the gaze of a photographed frame of her parents. A young couple at the time and two-month-old, Kacey, held in her fathers arms.
They seemed so happy, she thought, but shook her head to rid herself of those lingering thoughts.
”Yeah, Im sure, Kace. The lawyers, well Uncle Mac, mentioned they have cleaners come in every month, ”
replied Alison Jones, one of Kaceys varsity friends, engrossed by her oy toy kissing her neck and lets out a feverish moan.
”Seriously, Ali we on the phone, ” Kacey retorted in annoyance.
”How old is he this time? ” she added, rolling her eyes and continued stirring.
”Hold on, ” she replied while stopping oy toy from going to kiss any further down her belly, to ask his age.
”Nineteen and a half, ” she answered while holding him by his hair up, in-between her thighs.
”Im going to go, Ali, ” bewildered but not surprised by her friends antics. Both Alison and herself, in their early twenties, and final year of varsity.
”Woo byeee ” she winces, ending the call and before, Kacey figured, things wouldve really got started. Deciding to have the sauce simmer for some time, she wiped her hands on her apron, set her cellphone on the counter and left to the bathroom.
The phone vibrated and rang from an Unknown Caller ID till it stopped, a notification popped up of one missed call, but seemingly disappeared as it appeared. Kacey, returned from the bathroom, walks over to the stove with the sauce and pasta ready. She grabs a dish and gets her dinner ready, settles on the couch, but burrowed her eyebrows in confusion, Did my phone go off? She thought though proceeded to dig in to her meal with a 90s sitcom in front of her. A different scenery from her dorm room she once shared with Alison to hometown she grew up in.
The steam float about from the pots, fogged up all the kitchen windows and the slanted cross drawn on one of them, fitted right in place, soon to be gone before noticed.
Monday mornings, are the worst for Kacey and thats usually because of piles of unfinished assignments being due the Tuesday morning. She knew that starting when you get them is easier, but it has only been six months since the passing of her parents, and grieving can emerge in all forms. She pardoned herself. A mess of textbooks, clothes, book pages and coffee cups from AstroBucks Coffee in her room was evident of this; although that was always the case through the years.
”Your room is a reflection of your heart, ” she recalled a saying from her great aunt Elizabeths way on ”How to be a real lady, ” when she made her monthly visits from New England,
”Yeah, well then my heart looks like crap right now, ”
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