Chapter 21

I waited until my anger cooled enough that I wouldn’t get both of us into trouble by starting an argument that would need explaining. I climbed out of the tub, dried off, and then wondered what I would wear. The clothes I wore today were all soaking wet. Even my underwear. My ONLY pair of underwear.

I leaned against the sink with my head low. I was stretched too far in too many directions to do what I really needed to do. Yes, I got the police report, but only at the cost of not returning to town, which I might have to do in my effort to find my Dad. I needed clothes. I needed underwear. I needed so many damned things I never had to go without before. I didn’t even have a robe to wear. “Dammit!”

A soft knock on the bathroom door made me look up.

“Seth?” Mom asked through the door. “Are you okay?”

“I’m just a bit frustrated,” I said. “I don’t have any underwear or a robe. I don’t have any pajamas and the few clothes I picked up this morning aren’t what I would usually wear.”

“Well,” she said. “I thought about that and I have something you might be able to wear.”

I frowned, and the image of her handing me one of her silky dressing gowns flashed through my head. The idea was absurd enough to make me laugh. She was trying to help and I couldn’t be angry about that. For that matter, other than being left high and dry, Alyssa tried to help too. “What’s that?” I asked.

She eased the door open and held something out for me. “I’m not sure how well it’ll fit, but it was your Dad’s.”

My emotions shifted gears again and I suddenly felt a touch stupid and very thankful. I took the robe, pulled it on, and found that though I had bigger feet than Dad, he and I had similar builds, which meant some of his clothes might fit too. Depending on what he left behind when he took off. I tied the robe closed and pulled the bathroom door open.

Mom stood there, waiting. She smiled when she saw me. “That’s more like it.”

I saw her too. She changed out of her work clothes while I was up here. Now, she wore a multi-colored plaid wool top, which she left unbuttoned halfway down, a pair of light gray short shorts, and red, green, and white striped thigh-high socks.

She rose up on her toes, held out her hands, and wiggled her fingers toward herself. “C’mere. You need a hug.”

I stepped close to her this time and hugged her.

She wiggled against me a bit, which spread open the upper half of my robe some. When I felt the bare skin of her breasts pressed to me, she stopped and held me close.

I was thankful for the robe, but why the need for skin-to-skin contact? Did she know what Alyssa and I were doing? Did she run Alyssa off, blaming her, only to do this with me after the fact? I had no idea. Worse, as sexually frustrated as I was, this felt good – too good. Those good feelings caused a rise, and I didn’t have anything to restrain me from parting the robe I wore.

I stepped back. Mom let me go and smiled at me. I then turned and gathered my clothes, so I could keep myself covered.

She reached out for them and said, “I’ll got put them in the wash.”

I hesitated, wanting to wait for myself to calm down, but she pulled them out of my hands and I let them go. “Thank you,” I said softly.

She smiled again and said, “Why don’t you go down to my room and take a look through your Dad’s dresser. See if there’s anything else that fits.”

I nodded and followed her to the stairs. It turned out to be another mistake on my part. Her thigh-high socks and short shorts left rings of flesh exposed up high on her thighs. In addition, the shorts were tight enough that I had a wonderful view of her ass as she walked ahead of me. I should have led the way, to clear my thoughts and retain some level of control.

I slowed down on the stairs, desperate to give myself time to calm down. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked back up at me. The gap in her top showed me the swell of her breasts and a beautiful line of deep, warm cleavage. Nope, I couldn’t calm down.

She smiled and continued ahead of me. If she was trying to torture me, she was doing a good job.

As we entered the living room, I saw how big the tree turned out to be. It was massive. No one had placed the topper on yet, but it looked like it might scrape the ceiling.

Alyssa stood in her robe, holding two ornaments up, and looking for good places on the tree to hang them. She turned and watched Mom go through toward the utility room, and then she turned and looked at me.

I don’t know what my expression was, but Alyssa’s eyebrows shot up when she saw me. I saw her eyes flick down and I knew I the robe was tenting. I decided that yes, I was being tortured. I sighed, fought off my embarrassment, and went to Mom’s bedroom.

Before I opened the door, Alyssa turned around again and Mom returned.

Mom looked at me and said, “Go on. See what you can find.”

I nodded, and opened the bedroom door. I heard Alyssa ask, “Was that Dad’s robe?” before I closed the door again.

I stood there, leaning back against the door. The robe parted and I jutted out. I wasn’t at full staff, but it was enough that the robe couldn’t keep me covered any more.

I sighed and looked to my right. The door to the master bathroom stood open. I considered going in there, finding some kind of moisturizer and stroking one off before looking for any more of dad’s clothes, but I couldn’t bring myself to do that. It seemed so degrading. For tonight, I needed some underwear or shorts. Something to wear to keep myself under control.

I looked to my left, to the bedroom proper. Suddenly Mom’s insistence to “See what you can find” held more meaning than just clothes. I had an idea. It was so simple, so stupid, and so possible. What if Dad left the locket in his dresser? What if he left it here in the house? I certainly wouldn’t have many chances to look through his things. Not like now. So, I turned and headed to their bedroom.

The master bedroom was spacious. At the north end of the bedroom, near the entrance, was the door to the master bathroom and the only walk-in closet. Two windows faced out along the west wall, and between them stood a king sized bed. The south wall held a sliding glass door that led to the back porch. In the southwest corner stood Dad’s dresser.

I made sure Mom wasn’t coming. More than likely, she was helping Alyssa decorate the tree.

The thought of Alyssa made me reach up and touch the key. I had forgotten about it while Alyssa wanted to see me and she never mentioned it. Well, when her eyes were on me, they weren’t focused on my chest. So, maybe she was too distracted to notice. Still, it made me wonder. The key had magical defenses on it. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to notice it. Maybe by wearing it, like a fetish, I had activated defenses that were otherwise dormant. Maybe I should focus on finding the Locket and worry about the key’s defenses later.

I noted Mom’s clothes on the bed, the ones she wore to work this morning. On top of the pile was her bra and panties. I knew she wasn’t currently wearing a bra, but had she forgone her panties too? No. I did not need to think about that.

I moved around the bed. This had to be Dad’s side. Mom would have taken the closet and his dresser was here. Instead of going straight for the dresser, while I had the chance, I looked under the bed.

There were a few shoeboxes under the bed. All of them held shoes, but nothing else. I checked. They were all two sizes too small. There wasn’t a lock box or anything else innocuous under there.

I heard voices. Mom and Alyssa were singing. Good, it gave me a sense of where they were in relation to the bedroom. I slid over the floor and checked under the dresser. It stood on legs at least five inches high. Sure enough, there were two more boxes there. I pulled them out and opened the first one. It was filled with photos. Pictures of us, our family. Most of the focus was on my sisters and me, though there was a number of Mom too. I put the lid back on that one and set it aside.

The singing stopped. I looked up. No, better not to be caught. I slipped both boxes under the dresser and pulled open the bottom drawer. The bedroom door opened and Mom came in. “Any luck?”

I shrugged. Even in my frantic search for the locket, seeing those pictures still moved me.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Mom asked and ran a hand up my back.

I sighed, closed the drawer, and pulled out the box of pictures. I flipped the lid off and pushed it toward her. “I just don’t understand how a man who took those pictures, who obviously loved his family, could just pack up and leave in the middle of the night like he did.”

Mom knelt next to me and pulled out a picture. Alyssa and Faith were wearing bathing suits and posing for the camera. I was in the background in a pair of swimming trunks, running by without a care in the world. The girls looked to be about ten and eight, respectively, which meant I was about four. Mom leaned into me while looking at the picture. “I don’t know how to answer your question, baby. I don’t even know what to do with these pictures. Should I sort through them and put them into albums, or do I toss them?”

I shook my head. “Something I learned while at college: memories are precious. Keep them. We can sort through them later. After the blizzard clears up, we can pick up some albums.”

She looked up at me. “How should we sort them?”

I picked out another picture and flipped it over to examine the back. The paper had a date-time stamp on it. “Is this the date they were developed or the date they were taken?”

She grabbed my hand and made me flip the photo over to look at the picture. Alyssa grinned at the camera and held up car keys. “The day Alyssa earned her driving permit.” Then she flipped it over to look at the back. “That date seems right. I think they’re stamped for when they were shot.”

I nodded. “Good, there’s how to sort them. There are enough pictures here to chronicle our life here.”