Homecoming II

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Post by Quincy Reagan on Mon May 29, 2017 7:53 pm

He removed the key from the ignition. The engine stopped, just as heart did when he took a look at the door that, for years, he saw as his safe haven. For a decade, that door was the entrance to his paradise: his children playing together or with their friends when it was too cold to do so outside, his wife working at her desk or on the rare occasion cooking, rolling a blunt late at night, only once the children had been long snoring, in the back room while his friends bantered back and forth. For the longest, it was the physical representation of what he considered making it. Away from what he grew up in, from the life he once led, it was perfect. It was bliss. Now, it was ruined.

He flapped the hood of his Chicago Bulls rain jacket over his head and exited the car. The rainfall was light, but still enough to justify his choice of Timberland boots. It seemed funny, perhaps even symbolic: every time he makes it here since the split, it seems to be a rainy, gloomy day. When he got to the door, he took a breath, then pressed down on the doorbell.

His ex-wife stood in the doorway. She rolled her eyes.

So we just show up, no call?

Before they could have started an argument, his two reasons for living ran from the living room. His daughter, the elder of the two children, ran quickly to hug her dad. His son wasn’t far off and managed to slip into the foray as well. Sheila’s eyes rolled again, but she left them to their reunion. With his kids staying on him, he managed to get himself into the house just enough to shut the door behind him, before picking both of his kids up to give them proper attention.

Just a minute later, Sheila came from out of the kitchen with a water bottle for Quincy. He attempted to say ‘Thank you’ upon receiving it, but she put a shooing hand in between them before he could, as she walked into the living room. The smile that had naturally formed before slowly faded.

He walked into the living room, his kids flanking him on either side. Sheila sat on what used to be their couch, her fist holding her head up as her elbow leaned against the arm of the chair, her legs crossed. She chewed on gum and stared at the episode of Love & Hip Hop on the television.

Quincy Reagan
Look, my bad for stopping in unannounced but I’m only here for a second. Look --

His children disapproved of “only here for a second”. He patted them both on the head.

Quincy Reagan
Calm down guys, listen now. I dunno if you guys watched the pay-per-view, but I won my match so, this coming Showtime I’ve got a world title shot.

His kids immediately began to congratulate him. They jumped and hugged and brought back the smile that had faded. Sheila, however, didn’t care to look up. He was able to settle the kids down to continue with his request.

Quincy Reagan

I just wanted to know if it’d be alright if I could bring ‘em backstage and front row for that.

Yeah, no, Quincy, that ain’t gonna work.

His heart fell into his stomach.

Quincy Reagan
Why not?

Clint and I got some plans for the kids that day.

Quincy Reagan
I ain’t even told you the taping day.

We got plans.

Before Quincy could respond, they all turned as they could hear the front door open. As he rounded the corner, there was Clint. There was the man Sheila cheated on Quincy with. Who she tainted their bed with. The reason the life he had always strived for went to hell. One of the reasons, anyway; the deciding blow.

There he was, just about two inches shorter than Quincy. He was scrawny, which made his cheap suit look too big for his body. He was a couple of shades darker than Quincy and his corn rows looked like they were transported from 2003. Of all people, this guy.

Quincy, what’s good with ya?

Was that all, Quincy?

As she waited for a response, Clint laid a peck on her lips.

Hey, baby.

Quincy Reagan
Yeah, that was it.

Just as he was getting ready to turn to leave the room, Clint took from his pocket a cigarette and a lighter. It didn’t seem like he planned to exit the house.

Quincy Reagan
Hey, bud, you wanna not smoke where my kids are around?

Clint looked over condescendingly. He put the cigarette in his mouth and lit it.

You’ll be iight.

Quincy realized everything he could have done. He could have laid the son of a bitch out with a single punch to the jaw and put the damn cigarette out on his cheek. He could take his kids to the show anyway; at this point they were as much his children as they were hers. But what would the consequences be? How would the law respond? At one point in his life, he would have done it all without a second thought. But was that who Quincy Reagan still was?

Quincy stared a hole through Clint. If looks could kill. His hands certainly could. But instead, they pulled his kids in as he crouched for a hug. He laid heartfelt kisses upon their foreheads, told them to go to their rooms, away from the smoke, and bid them a farewell. To Clint and Sheila, he only looked at. Looked at and pondered. Another storm began to brew within his head but he quelled it, at least for now. He said another goodbye to his children and walked out of what used to be his door.
Quincy Reagan
Quincy Reagan

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