Uncovered Attic

There was never a more luxurious home in the neighborhood. Although, most would not use that word to describe it. Many less complimentary words comes to mind, but atrocious and gaudy are the two most often used. I don't care. My wife and I love it and think it's amazing. The gold beams of the sun perfectly accented the gold window frames. My wife and I fired five builders between us because they argued so often with us over our desires. The untraditional material we used to hold the windows and doors in place were only one of many extravagant design ideas we fought with them about.

My wife's voice rang out from the call button, "Robert, have you seen the key to the attic?"

That was the one place in the house where we hadn't bothered to venture since we lost her father. He lived with us for the last twenty-seven years of his life and chose to do so in our attic. Our five story home had many beautifully decorated rooms with exquisite furnishings. Yet he wanted to live in the attic. The one place in the house that we had put zero design or thought into.

I pressed the bright button on the intercom. "Sophia Rashan, why in the world would you want to go in there?"

The purple box on the wall squawked her voice back at me. "I'm putting Dad's things on the curb. After seven years of his things gathering dust, I think it's time to let it go." Her voice quivered slightly at the end.

I pressed the button. "Just a moment. I'll be up there in a sec."

In the hall, on the way to the elevator, I stopped for a second and looked at the fifteen wide painting on the wall. Her father stood next to a large show horse. His bright blue waistcoat was in stark contrast to the black fur of the Clydesdale. Now that she was in a frame of mind to get rid of her father's things, maybe we could get rid of that horrible painting that didn't match either of our tastes.

I punched my finger into the elevator button. A soft ding sounded as the elevator descended to the first floor. The copper and bronze gate unlatched, allowing me to swing it open and step into the car.

Stepping back out onto the fifth floor my wife greeted me with a gentle peck on my left cheek. "Do you have the key? I'm ready to do this and don't want to lose the nerve."

I grinned at her and jingled my key ring at her. "I always have all of our keys on me at all times. You know that."

She grabbed the key ring out of my hand and almost trotted back to the door that led up to the attic. As soon as she swung the door open, the scent of her father's dusty quarters filled the hall. Her index finger flicked the yellow light switch and nothing happened. She turned her head back to me. "Is the power out?"

"Nah. Apparently the bulbs had burned out. I'll go get some and be right back to replace them." I turned back to the elevator to retrieve the necessary lighting accessories.

By the time I had returned with a box of bulbs, she had already moved several boxes of his things into the hall. I lifted the lid on the closest one in curiosity of its contents and her voice echoed down the stairs to the basement. "Honey, come here and help me with this dresser. I can't move it on my own."

"I'll be up in a second, but I'm going to replace the bulbs first. Come down here and wait. It's no good to move things around in the dark. "

"No, I need to get this done. I'll just work on boxing up some more of his things and we can move the desk after you've finished replacing the bulbs."

Once I screwed the last of the bulbs into its socket I went back down the stairs and flicked the switch. The light filtered down the stairs and the beige squares of carpet on each step reminded me how bland this attic was. I promised myself to fix that within the month.

As I approached the top step of the stairs into the attic my wife's anxious voice said, "Robert, come on, stop stalling, come help me move this desk."

"Patience love, I'm coming." Her impatience was in stark contrast to her normal state of tranquility. "What's wrong?"

She turned to face me and her cheeks were stained with thin trails of tears. "I need to hurry up before I change my mind. I'm not sure I can do this."

I hugged her to myself. "It's okay honey. You don't have to do this. We don't need the attic."

Her thin frame quivered as she sobbed into my shoulder. "I thought that after seven years I'd be okay with this. I don't know why it's so hard. Shouldn't I be over it after seven years?"

"Don't stress about it Soph. No one expects you to ever be okay with having lost your dad. Everyone knows how much you loved him." I lifted her chin toward mine and kissed her pale lips.

She brushed her fingers along my cheek. "Thanks Bobby, you're an amazing man."

I grinned at her and pointed at the small walnut desk. "Alright, do you want us to move that now?"

She nodded.

I opened the top drawer and revealed a small unopened heart shaped box of chocolates with a light blue sticky note. Someone had drawn a small heart and the words, "I luve you granpaep."

Holding it out to Sophia she broke and her eyes flowed with a new stream of tears. "Oh my. This is our Shirley's writing." She pulled the small chocolate box toward her chest and crumpled to the ground.

I sat down next to her and rubbed her back. The memories of our daughter who would've been fifteen this year overtook me and tears flowed down my cheeks now. I had spent so much time pushing aside thoughts of her that it was almost like I had never had a daughter. It was then that I realize what had set my wife off on this quest. Today was the day that both our beautiful Shirley and her father were taken from us when a drunk driver had rammed into the car that they were in.

They had been on their way back from the valentine's dinner that her father had taken Shirley on so that my wife and I could have a romantic meal together. We hadn't celebrated valentine's day since that day. I had forgotten all together that today was that day, but now everything made more sense. We sat together on the floor sobbing and comforting each other for a long time.

We worked the next couple hours putting everything back into the attic, cleaned everything up and made it look like a small museum. We placed the small box of chocolates on top of the desk and locked the door behind us.