Chapter Twenty-Three
Title: I Should Be Out The Door (but I'm not leaving)
I call the House a day before the full moon.
Of course it's George who answers.
"Who is it?" It's so formal. And so normal. I've heard it so many times before, but I was standing right next to him (and my eyes had stayed brown) and not in a phone box fifty miles away.
I choke on my name.
He gets it though.
"Mitchell? Mitchell - "
"Can you put Annie on please?"
"Mitchell . . ."
"Annie," my voice hitches on her name, "please?"
He doesn't answer for a seocnd and then says 'fine' so I know he's not happy. There's the sound of the phone being slammed into the table it's kept on and George walking away and talking to Annie. Then her fast footsteps on the stairs and her breathless voice down the line.
"Mitchell? Mitchellisthatyou?" so fast.
"Annie," I'm smiling, like I've missed her.
"OhGodMitchell, it is you. Mitchell, come home, Mitchell, please come home, Mitchell please." I stop smiling.
"I will,"
"Now, Mitchell, today."
"I'll . . . I will . . . I . . . how strong are you Annie?"
"I . . . oh." she's looking around for George, I can tell. I wonder if he's listening. "Strong enough, Mitchell. Come home."
I don't reply. I want to say yes. I do. I'll regret it if I don't. It just depends if I'll regret it more if I do.
"Please,"
"Ok."
***
It's about an hour before George will begin to change.
I'm standing on the doorstep of the House. I've been here for the last two minutes or so. I can't decide if it would be too awful of me to just open the door with my key and walk in after being away for a week or if I should knock and make us all feel like I don't live here anymore.
The door key is getting warm in my palm, my car key gently knocking the side of my palm.
In the end, I don't have to decide, as the door opens for me.
I call the House a day before the full moon.
Of course it's George who answers.
"Who is it?" It's so formal. And so normal. I've heard it so many times before, but I was standing right next to him (and my eyes had stayed brown) and not in a phone box fifty miles away.
I choke on my name.
He gets it though.
"Mitchell? Mitchell - "
"Can you put Annie on please?"
"Mitchell . . ."
"Annie," my voice hitches on her name, "please?"
He doesn't answer for a seocnd and then says 'fine' so I know he's not happy. There's the sound of the phone being slammed into the table it's kept on and George walking away and talking to Annie. Then her fast footsteps on the stairs and her breathless voice down the line.
"Mitchell? Mitchellisthatyou?" so fast.
"Annie," I'm smiling, like I've missed her.
"OhGodMitchell, it is you. Mitchell, come home, Mitchell, please come home, Mitchell please." I stop smiling.
"I will,"
"Now, Mitchell, today."
"I'll . . . I will . . . I . . . how strong are you Annie?"
"I . . . oh." she's looking around for George, I can tell. I wonder if he's listening. "Strong enough, Mitchell. Come home."
I don't reply. I want to say yes. I do. I'll regret it if I don't. It just depends if I'll regret it more if I do.
"Please,"
"Ok."
***
It's about an hour before George will begin to change.
I'm standing on the doorstep of the House. I've been here for the last two minutes or so. I can't decide if it would be too awful of me to just open the door with my key and walk in after being away for a week or if I should knock and make us all feel like I don't live here anymore.
The door key is getting warm in my palm, my car key gently knocking the side of my palm.
In the end, I don't have to decide, as the door opens for me.