Chapter 22
She pulled up to an old brick building with boarded windows in a city called Goose Creek, seventeen miles outside of Charleston.
It was her old high school, which had been closed now for over seven years.
The grounds were full of weeds breaking through the cement and bricks on the building were badly faded from seasons of rain.
There was a gate that prevented them from entering with their car, so they decided to park and walk around.
“This was my old high school,” she said as her eyes gazed on the fading letters still on the side of the building.
Mason followed, only a step behind her as they walked around the building. It was interesting to hear and see what life was like for her back then.
They walked through a lightly wooded area behind the school to a small creek that was almost hidden behind the trees surrounding it.
“I thought they would have closed the access to this by now,” she said, nearing the ledge. “We used to sneak back here almost every day after school.”
"We?" Mason asked.
"Yeah, me and my boyfriend, Dalton," she bashfully answered.
Itching with laughter, he asked, “You dated a boy named...Dalton?"
“What’s wrong with Dalton?” she laughed.
“Other than him sounding a bit nerdy, nothing,” he joked.
As she thought back to it, Mason was actually right. Dalton was very nerdy, with unnecessarily large glasses and a slightly larger than average head from what she could remember.
Back then it hadn’t really mattered what he looked like; she was in her rebellious stage. All she had wanted was a boyfriend. “My father would have so killed me if he knew," she confessed.
"What, for dating a guy named Dalton? I wouldn't blame him.”
"No, for dating at all. I was only sixteen."
Mason laughed.
"Your household must have been really strict. My dad, my real dad,” he clarified, “didn’t mind us talking to girls.”
"Things are different when you have daughters,” Sydney stressed. “My dad never failed to remind us of that every time he said ‘no’ to us wanting to go to the movies, or school dances, even our prom.”
Turning their back on the creek, they made their way across the street to a neighborhood of single family homes in front of the school. Many of them were modestly kept; others looked as if they had been abandoned for some time. The ones that were well kept had cars or trucks in front of them some old and many new all except one.
A gravel paved driveway led to the front door of a house where an old wooden chair sat overlooking the front yard.
The hedges had been trimmed and the grass had been cut, but the dust of many seasons that coated the rusted screen door made it apparent that no one had lived there for years.
"This was
my grandfather’s house," she spoke softly, wiping the dust from the chair. "If we weren't cutting school or sneaking off somewhere, we were here," she began to tell him.
Mason leaned against the wall beside the chair she sat in, looking off into the neighborhood that painted the background to Sydney's story.
"I remember during our summer break one year, my sister Kimmie and I stayed with Granddaddy. My mom and dad were on vacation or something. I can’t remember, but," she laughed, remembering what happened, "Kimmie had this boyfriend that no one liked, especially Granddaddy. And Granddaddy was old school, so having a boyfriend was already more than enough. Kimmie must have talked to him on the phone just about every day and every night. Anyway, one night it was real late and I was already in bed. Kimmie decided to tie up Grandaddy’s one phone in her room; she even had the nerve to lock the door so he couldn’t interrupt her conversation. Now, if you knew Granddaddy you knew the one thing he didn't play with in his house was locked doors.
He went to open her door to tell her to get off of the phone and that's when he realized it was locked.
He didn't say a word didn't yell or anything but by the time morning came, when we had woken up every door in the house had been taken off the hinge, even the bathroom!
He sat at the kitchen table with his coffee, his newspaper, and his phone right beside him and didn’t say a single word. We didn't laugh about it then, but boy when I think about it now...that was my Granddaddy." Her voice softened with a tearful smile.
"When did he pass?"
"A little over three years ago," she answered, getting up from the chair.
"My dad hasn't been able to bring himself to sell the house, so he just comes by every now and then and makes sure the lawn are kept. He never goes in."
She sat at the edge of the chair for a moment, thinking about how she really missed him and how much she wished he were still here. She and her grandfather were like best friends. He was the one she would run and talk to when she was upset or having trouble at school. His passing was the hardest thing she had ever dealt with.
"Okay! Where to next?" she gasped, breaking the awkward silence of sadness she started to feel from her thoughts.
Mason helped her from the chair. “How about we head to the hotel,” he suggested.
They made a few other stops after leaving Sydney’s grandfather’s house but they weren’t out too much longer although time seemed to move much faster than she could get from one place to another. Finally, as the afternoon grew spent, they headed back into Charleston to check into their hotel.
“This is the third time she’s called me.”
“Who?” Mason asked.
“My mom.”
He could hear in her voice that she really wanted to stop by before going to the hotel. He was pretty tired but, as he’d said before, this was her Christmas present. It really didn’t bother him.
“We can go,” he laughed.
Her smile made it obvious that he’d answered a question that she asked without saying a word.
They drove just twenty minutes out from where their hotel was to her parents’ house. They had moved four years ago from the home Sydney and her sister grew up in after they sold it to buy something bigger and a little more modern. It was the first time Sydney was going to see the new house. After getting turned around a few times, confused about which direction to go, they finally pulled into the right development. They drove down a few streets and made a few turns until they found the house: 247 Carolina Ridge Parkway, Charleston Estates. The home was immaculate. As the sun began to set, the ground lights shimmered into the red brick, accenting the lights coming from within the windows above them. It was warm and inviting. Along with the Christmas lights and decorations that layered the front lawn, it was amazing.
They pulled up to a driveway that led to a three-car garage and stairs leading up to the back sunroom. There, standing at the very top, was her mother: a beautiful middle-aged woman with streaks of wise grey falling against her shoulders. Her smile quickly joined with tears after not having seen Sydney in so long. Her petite frame ran down the stairs and embraced Sydney, almost lifting her from the ground.
They hugged, backed away to look at each other, and hugged again. “Mom…stop crying…you’re so emotional,” Sydney joked, wiping her own tears from her eyes.
“Look at you!”
“No, look at
you. Mom, you look great!”
“
Child, I done went and hired me one of those personal trainers.”
“I can tell!” Sydney exclaimed.
“And this must be Mason” her mother implied, taking his hand into both of hers.
“Mrs. McCail, it is a pleasure to –“
“Ruby, please, you make me feel so old,” she laughed. “Call me Ruby.”
Her voice was soft, but with an authoritative undertone hinted with a southern accent. Looking at her, though, she was the sweetest woman you could ever meet. She pushed his extended hand aside and wrapped her arms around him as if he were already family.
“Come on in the house, your father should be home soon. He is going to be so happy when he sees you!”
They walked up the stairs, through the sunroom, and into the kitchen. If Christmas dinner had its own scent, that was what Mason smelled walking through the doors. His mouth watered at the smell of honey glazed ham and candied yams cooking in the oven, and the collard greens still on the stovetop. Something about the aroma of southern cooking made him feel right at home.
“I’m sorry it is such a mess in here, I’ve been in this kitchen all day,” Ruby uttered exhaustedly with her arms folded.
She took Mason’s coat, hung it on the rack near the door, and placed his shoes just beneath it. They had a no shoes in the house rule.
Walking back into the kitchen, her face was blushed with excitement and fulfillment. “I can’t tell you how happy I am that you are here,” she sighed with an unwavering smile.
Still staring, Sydney said, “Mom, I still can’t believe how good you look!”
Ruby laughed.
“God is good,” she stated, checking the ham in the oven.
“And this house is amazing!”
“Oh Lord, I forgot this is your first time seeing the house,” she said. “Come on, let me show you the
rest
of it,” she offered jokingly.
“I’ll wait, you two go ahead,” Mason suggested.
They went off. He admired the loving relationship he could clearly see they had, on top of the pure excitement and joy of seeing each other after so long. He ran his hand across the counter top nodding in agreement of good taste from what he’d seen so far. The inside was just as inviting as the outside if not more. He walked through the living room, which was decorated with various cultural artifacts and family photos along the walls and bookshelves: Sydney and her sister when they were young, plus
a lot
of their grandchildren.
They all look so happy,
he said to himself. The more he walked around, the more there was something eerily familiar with the setup, the pictures, the books that filled the bookshelves, and oddly even the furniture. He didn’t give much attention to it and made his way back into the kitchen. He could hear Sydney and Ruby moving from room to room, and all he could do was laugh at the rapid footsteps of one and the slower footsteps of the other. Soon, though, they both made their way back downstairs, seemingly far more enthused than they had been going up.
Laughing, Ruby said to Mason “Well, that had to be interesting,”
“What was?” He asked.
“Sydney shared with me a few of your exciting adventures together on that motorcycle of yours. I’m surprised she even got on one of those things, you know. She’s scared to death of them.”
“She
was
scared,” he replied. “Not so much anymore, though,” he laughed.
“Have you guys eaten yet?” Ruby asked.
They didn’t get a chance to answer, hearing the front door opening. The house quickly became silent as the anticipation of surprise grew stronger. No one moved for fear that they would ruin it. Sydney’s father was just getting home from the office; they could hear him taking off his coat and placing his brief case on the floor. It would only be moments before he walked through the archway into the kitchen - a moment that, for Sydney, couldn’t come quickly enough. He removed his shoes, paying no attention to the pair that belonged to Mason, and walked into the kitchen, stopping immediately in his tracks when his eyes graced the face of his daughter. His smile was immediate.
“Sydney! What are you ––”
“Hi Daddy,” she smiled excitedly.
He tripped on words that never quite made it out of his mouth from utter surprise and excitement. He hadn’t seen Sydney since she moved north. Remembering he’d spoken to her on the phone at least twice earlier during the week, she never once mentioned she was coming home for Christmas. He wasn’t the easiest man to surprise, but this time,
“You got me,” he said, wrapping his arms around Sydney.
Everyone was so happy and full of smiles: her mother, who had leaned down to check the ham still in the oven. Sydney, who couldn’t
stop
smiling; and her father, who was overwhelmed and thrilled by her visit.
Everyone
was exceedingly happy… everyone except Mason. He’d never seen her father before, nor had he spoken much, if anything at all, about what he did for a living. From one glance, though, Mason had him all figured out. And he didn’t like him.
With every step her father took into the kitchen, Mason’s smile faded from discomfort with an underlying hatred.
As if things couldn’t get any worse,
he said to himself.
Sydney, noticeably overexcited to introduce Mason to her father, didn’t see the uneasiness in his face when she walked up to him.
“Daddy,” she introduced, “this is Mason. Mason, this is my daddy, Thurgood McCail. Bishop, Reverend, Dr. Thurgood McCail,” she joked, assuming Mason would recognize his name, if not his face.