Forgetting him was a blessing.
At least, it was.
Now, as my hand hits the blinker for our exit before the GPS tells me this is where we get off the highway, I’m not so sure.
Have I been here before?
I can’t stop asking myself that question as we pass the sign announcing we’re entering Oldham County.
The sense of familiarity is so damn strong, I’d bet money that I have.
But I can’t fucking remember. And I honestly can’t remember my parents ever mentioning Kentucky before.
Maybe they did but I forgot that too?
Fuck.
Not only is this whole thing giving me a headache, it’s also starting to piss me off.
I need to talk to Robert. Surely, he’d remember. But if he did, wouldn’t he have mentioned it to me by now? Before we left would have been a great time to tell me…
“Look, Mommy! Horses!” Levi exclaims excitedly and points out the window as we drive past a sprawling green pasture.
Everywhere in Kentucky seems to be green. The ground, the hills, the trees. And it’s not your normal, everyday green. It’s bright, vivid, and full of life. Fertile.
Off the highway and away from the city, I feel like I’m driving through a scenic painting.
Wait...
Maybe that’s why this place seems so familiar… Maybe I’ve seen it in a painting before…
I let that possibility roll around in my brain.
It would make complete and total sense if this damn déjà vu that’s been plaguing me didn’t continue to grow.
It’s so strong now, I’m starting to freak out and I’m barely paying attention to where we’re going.
I don’t know what the hell is going on.
But my hands and feet seem to know where to go.
As I seriously begin to doubt my sanity, my foot eases on the brake to slow down and my hands turn the steering wheel, taking us up a gravel driveway that leads to a picturesque white house.
“You have arrived at your destination,” the GPS announces as we reach the end of the driveway.
I put the minivan in park then stare at the house through the windshield.
It’s both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.
Like the face of a person I should know…
“Are we here?” Levi asks.
“I think so, sweetheart,” I say as I continue to stare at the house.
It’s an older two-story house, probably built in the 1800s. The outside looks as if it’s been well taken care of, but I don’t like the look of the sheets hanging inside over the windows.
“Can we get out now?” Levi asks, his little voice hopeful.
It’s been a long, grueling drive, and Levi has behaved like an angel. He hasn’t complained once, and only asked to stop if he was hungry or needed the bathroom.
I need to let him out of the minivan to stretch his legs, but I also need to see what we’re walking into first.
“In a minute, let me check on a couple of things,” I say, and see his shoulders slump in the rearview mirror.
“Okay,” he says, so dejected it hurts my heart.
Hoping for the best but expecting the worst, I leave the minivan running and the doors unlocked.
Walking the short distance from the driveway to the front porch, my ears strain as I listen for any sign of life. Robert said the previous tenants have already vacated, but better safe than sorry.
“Hello?” I call out as I reach the front door.
I wait a moment, hoping that if someone is inside they’ll respond, then I punch in the code on the lockbox and grab the key.
Unlocking the door, I push it open and I’m immediately hit by an awful smell.
It smells like garbage and animals.
Fuck.
“Hello?” I call out again into the dark house, feeling a little like the stupid damsel in a horror movie.
When no one responds, I find the switch on the wall and flip on the light.
Then I get a glimpse of the true horror show.
Trash… there’s trash everywhere…
“Oh my god,” I gasp and cover my mouth with the back of my hand.
The place is completely wrecked. The interior looks more like a landfill than someone’s home. And you can tell someone lived here at one point because there’s these clean spots on the floor where furniture used to be.
Shit. Shit.
Shit.
I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do.
Robert warned me he couldn’t get a cleaning crew here yet, but I didn’t expect to find the house like this…
Even animals are cleaner than this.
Levi and I are so screwed.
Forcing myself to walk through the first floor, I pick my way carefully over the trash, inspecting the place.
Even if I wasn’t sore and exhausted after getting beat by my husband and driving all night, it would take me days to clean the place up on my own.
But there’s nowhere else we can go.
This place, as disgusting as it is, is our only hope.
Local hotels are too risky. Too many people going in and out. I’d have to pick a direction, drive a few more hours to find one for the night, and hope there’s no Bratva nearby.
And dammit, I’m too tired to do more driving today.
We have no family I’m willing to put at risk, and none of them live nearby anyway.
Besides Robert, I literally have no one else I can rely on to help.
I can’t even talk to Robert until our designated time which isn’t until later tonight.
Despair threatens to overwhelm me, but I shove it away and make my way up the stairs. The only bright lining in this whole situation is that the upstairs isn’t nearly bad as the downstairs. Yes, there’s dirty clothing on the floors and more garbage, but not as much as the first floor.
Once I’ve seen as much as I can stomach, I rush out of the house and lock the front door. Levi’s hopeful face peers at me through the window as I walk up to the minivan, and the sight nearly crushes my soul.
“Can we go in now?” he asks as I slide back behind the wheel and shut my door.
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and hold it.
If it was just me, this would probably be the point where I’d give up and throw in the towel.
“Mommy?”
But it’s not just me, I can’t give up now. We’ve already come this far, and I can’t let Levi down. I swore I’d give him a better life, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
Even if it kills me.
“I’m sorry, we can’t go in yet. The last people that lived here… they forgot to clean before they left. We have to go buy some cleaning stuff then we can go in,” I explain and brace myself for his reaction.
I know he’s tired and probably going stir crazy from being cooped up in the van all night. It would be completely normal for him to have an emotional meltdown and throw a tantrum.
Hell, I want to throw a tantrum. I want to scream at the heavens. I want to ask why they keep fucking with me. I want to ask what I did to deserve all of this.
“Okay,” Levi says, accepting my explanation so easily I don’t know if I should be grateful he’s being so good or even more worried.
He’s too young to be used to disappointment.
It’s only a fifteen-minute drive to the closest Walmart, but after all the driving I’ve already done, it feels like it takes us twice as long.