Our Hearts Are Kept in Wicker Baskets and Porcelain Jars, chapter 8

"You know, Adrienne, you really always do underestimate me... you think I won't find out about anything, and now you think that I'm not going to hit you. I can see it in your eyes." I was so angry at this point, I didn't even realize what I was saying, or that my fists were clenched, and that I was ready to strike my wife with as much force as I possibly could.

"Billie, please, no." Adrienne's eyes no longer had that gleam of denial that they had just minutes ago, when she thought I wouldn't hit her. Now they were clouded with fear, and as sadistic as this sounds, I kind of liked it.

So many thoughts were running through my head, and I guess, as is always stated in fairy tales and children's books, good triumphs over evil. My fists became unclenched, my expression softened, and I ran out of the room. Just like that. It probably seemed really cowardly, a grown man just running away from his wife in fear. Yes, fear.

I bounded up the stairs, nearly slipping due to me wearing socks, and the floor being plain, glossy wood. I reached the top, and went down the hall, not really realizing that I was just about to enter Joey's room. I went in; it still looked the same. It smelled familiar, and had this comforting aura, yet I had a creepy feeling in my gut, because this room belonged to a dead man.

I sat down on the bed, with its lumpy mattress, and put my head in my hands, and just stayed there in unmoving solitude for what seemed like, and probably was, hours. I wasn't really thinking of anything, nothing in particular at least, just about things Joey had done, what Joey was like, and how we didn't see it coming.

I heard footsteps in the hallway, but disregarded them as Jakob going to his room. I heard the door click, and somebody entered. I didn't look up, I couldn't be bothered, so I figured it was most likely Adrienne coming to apologize.

"Dad."

Jakob.

I looked up. It wasn't Jake. It was Joey.

He had a puzzled look on his face, "What are you doing in my room?"

I was absolutely lost for words. I just stared and stared.

His expression became even moer confused.

"H- How are you here?" I was surprised to find that it was my own voice speaking.

He looked at me as though I were having a fit, but then chuckled, "What are you talking about, 'How am I Here?'"

"You're dead."

"Uh...no I'm not."

"O-Oh. Oh okay."

He stared at me in amusement, "You feeling alright?"

"Oh, oh yeah, I-I'm...I'm fine. Just fine."

He smiled again, "Okay, well, anyways, Cindy told me she wanted me to come find you, and you weren't in your room...but you're here, so go talk to her."

I stared at him, puzzled, "Who's Cindy?"

"Uh...your wife?"

"But what about mom?" This was ridiculous, this couldn't be Joey. He had died months ago. And who the fuck was this Cindy woman?

"What about mom?"

"I don't know about Mom, where is she?"

"You've got to be kidding me, right?" But after he saw the look on my face, he realized I was not 'kidding him', "She left years ago, after she had Joanna with Tre, remember?"

"What!?" Wait, Joanna...that's what we were going to name the baby... the baby Adie was going to have with another man., "Tre!? That... " I paused, realizing something for the first time, "That would explain why!"

"Why what?" Joey seemed to be just as confused as I was.

"Why he was so shocked at why I quit the band!"

"But you didn't quit the band."