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The
sign and number of cars indicated that this house was the estate
sale. Sarah prepared herself for
venturing into someone else’s house, someone who either no longer lived, or at
least, not here.
Walking
through the door told her everything, almost.
Blue and mauve was a sure sign of the late 80s. Furniture was well worn, especially the big
recliner. The man’s recliner…Sarah thought.
He was the last to leave.
The
high ceilings and fans over the dining room and the dining furniture showed the
couple had been well off; no Jerome’s or MOR furniture here. Oak,
real oak—and Lenox china ware, a complete set? Waterford lead crystal? Ireland?
Sarah
passed through the kitchen with its separate dining table, a mid-century
set. Now
that’s worth some money, she thought as she ran fingers along the
maple. The then much younger couple must have loved this during the 1960s.
The
bedroom was a bigger story about the couple’s lives together. Travel.
Native American artwork. Framed
movie posters lined the walls. MASH. Hmm, they loved MASH.
Sarah
began crying in the bathroom. Hair
rollers in a plastic bag, shower cap, and rows of nail polish lined the
counter. She picked up a purple vinyl
purse and promised herself she would use it.
Then
the man’s attached office told of his fascination—no, obsession with Star Trek
and X-Files. Rows of video tapes,
graphic novels (comic books), and collectibles lay casually on shelves. How
long had he been amassing this stuff?
The
other two bedrooms had been her rooms.
Loved dolls, giraffes, Hallmark special Christmas ornaments. His room was all Sci-Fi and her rooms were filled
with a soft love.
The
garage was the final stop. It told the
final chapter. Sarah’s eyes watered as
she held rusted hammer and tools, beheld the walker and raised bathroom seat, and saw “50
cents” attached to one golf club. It was too
much to bear.
She
paid for the purse, 25% off the $5.00, and hurried away from the house. Inside her car, Sarah opened the purse and appreciated its construction.
In
one zipped pouch was a scrap of paper.
It read, “Pick up t-bone steak for dinner.” It was for him. Sarah found a tissue and wiped her eyes.
