Filling up the Virgin(135)

It was then that she saw him.





Rafe

He waited, something he didn’t like to begin with. He leaned the bike to the side, silently taking another drag off of the lit cigarette in his hand. His father was dead, and he hadn’t spoken to him in over a year. He knew the responsibility was on him, and the choices he’d made when he left. He ground the cigarette out with the heel of his boot. It was the first one he’d had in two years and he wasn’t about to let the moment of weakness become another habit he would have to kick.

He took long strides over to the site of the funeral, the mass of people all facing the opposite direction which he was grateful for. He let his eyes flick over the crowd hoping to see his step mother and little Lacey. He could only imagine how hard all of this was on them. At this distance it was hard, but he found his step-mother quickly enough. She was lost and crying. Rafe felt the guilt creep in once more as he thought about his absence. Everything he had done had been to save face, and he couldn’t handle disappointing anyone else.

Standing with her was a woman, a blonde tall and even from where he stood it was obvious that she was beautiful. She hugged his step mother close and he heard the preacher say the final words necessary before they put his father to rest once and for all.

As he closed, Rafe watched people start to move around, making their way down the hill and away from the cemetery. He was far enough away that he went unnoticed and once everyone was gone, he made his way up the hill to say his goodbye’s. Sometime later, Rafe jumped on his bike, more determined now than ever to make things right and make sure he was there from now on.

He followed the address in the letter his stepmother had sent him. She was a good woman, and he knew this turn of events would be devastating for her to accept. He moved his bike down the long roads in town, only turning to ride up into the Northerton Hills. He frowned as he drove, knowing his bike would raise more than a few eyebrows when he pulled up to the front of the elegant townhouse. Why they were doing this here was beyond him. He wanted to go home, to the house he had been raised in. He jumped off his bike, take the long strides into the house to find the one woman who knew his father better than he did.

She was standing by the kitchen door, her face was sad, but she was doing her best to keep it together. She saw him and her smile seemed to be genuine as she held her arms out to him. He had been 18 when he left home, but for the years that he had been there, she had been good to him. His father had done the best job he knew how to do, but when he met and married Alice, his world had shifted and changed. Suddenly there was the person who made sure he ate dinner every night and made sure he took a bath regularly.

He hugged her close, reminded of her perfume and the old days when things had been simpler. He moved back and she smiled up at him.

“Rafe, I’m glad you’re here. He would have been happy for that.”

“I’m not sure about that, but I am glad out think so Alice.” He ran a hand through his lanky black hair and his blue eyes glanced around the room as they spoke.

“Well, I know he missed you Rafe, he told me so. But I understand why you did what you did.”

“I hope one day I can understand it. I am sorry I wasn’t here Alice.”

“No one could have known Rafe, it’s not your fault.” She patted his arm.

“Why are you doing this here, I this stuffy townhouse Alice, not at home?”

She sighed, “I couldn’t go home, not yet anyway. I just wasn’t ready.” She blinked, frowning slightly as she looked past him. “As for the townhouse…” She trailed off.

“It’s my stuffy townhouse Rafe, sorry if you're uncomfortable.” A voice behind him rang out.

He spun around to smile at the imp who had driven him crazy for years with her rambling about boys and bully’s. He felt the look she gave him like a punch to the stomach. Lacey was gone… and had been gone for years apparently. In her place was a striking young woman. Her blonde hair fell in soft layers down her shoulders, and the green of her eyes was almost piercing.

“Lacey? Oh my God Lacey is that you?” He squinted his eyes doing his best to not seem shocked by her appearance.

“Yes, Rafe, I’m Lacey.” She crossed her arms over her chest, which was doing its best to break free from the shirt containing them.

He felt something stir in him deep down and immediately hated himself for it. She has his step-sister not some bar chick he was picking up for a night of fun. He sobered as he realized she had heard his comments on her home.

“I didn’t mean...”

“Yes, you did. It's ok, we don’t like the same things, never have.” Except that shirt you're wearing. He tried to stop the thought from creeping in but it rushed to the forefront of his mind far quicker than he intended.