Chapter 17 Chapter 17 Theft

You know, doc, all the while, even when you were telling me how to get rid of my fears, what caused them, I was telling myself that one day, those fears would go away on their own. , especially after I read a lot of books about healing.But, this week, some idiot broke into my house. When I came back from a run in the morning, I found that the alarm bell was ringing at home, several police cars were parked in front of the house, the door frame of the back door had been pried off, and the bedroom window was open.Several branches were broken from the bushes in the yard, from where the thieves supposedly escaped.Nothing seemed to be missing, and the police said there was nothing they could do if I didn't know what was missing.They also told me that there had been several burglaries in the area recently and no fingerprints were found at the scene, thinking that would make me feel better.

After all the policemen had left and my trembling turned into occasional tremors, I went to my bedroom to change.A sudden thought stopped me in the hallway.Why would you risk breaking in without stealing anything?It doesn't feel right. I walked slowly around the house, trying to think like a thief.OK, I'll pry open the door and run upstairs, then what?I ran to the living room - I didn't find anything valuable, the stereo and TV were too loud, I didn't drive, I couldn't take these things and run away.Then, I ran down the hallway to the bedroom—and rummaged through the drawers next?

I went through every drawer carefully.All the drawers are tightly closed and the clothes are neatly folded.Everything in the closet hangs upright and the closet door is closed - sometimes one side of the door keeps getting stuck.I stepped back and examined the entire bedroom.The basket of clothes I just pulled out of the dryer was still in its place on the floor, and the big T-shirt I slept in was still at the foot of the bed.By the way, bed. Is there a trace of sitting on the side of the bed?Is it from when I sat there and put on my socks?I leaned over and checked every place on the bed.Checked every hair in the bed.be mine?Or Emma's?I put my nose up against the duvet cover and sniff hard.Is there a hint of men's cologne?I stood up again.

A stranger broke into my house, was in my bedroom, looked at my things, touched my things.I'm getting goosebumps. I ripped off the comforter, grabbed the t-shirt, threw everything in the washer and poured lots and lots of bleach in it and wiped the house inside and out, top and bottom .Then I battened up the back door and the windows, and when I was done it looked like a barracks.Finally, I picked up the wireless handset of the phone and hid in a cupboard in the hall for the whole day. The policeman I told you about last time, Gary, called me later to see if I was okay. Actually, he was not involved in the robbery at all, but he was very nice and cared about me.He said that what other policemen said was true, and that it was probably a random theft. The thief broke into the house and wanted to steal something, but then he got scared and ran away immediately.Wouldn't it be silly to do that, I retorted?He said that when criminals are scared, they do all kinds of silly things.He also suggested that until my door frame was fixed, I should find someone to live with me, or temporarily go to a friend's house.

Even if I was scared to death, I would never go to live with my mother.As for friends?Even if I wasn't so paranoid and paranoid, I don't know how many friends I have left today.Luke is about the only friend who still keeps calling me.When I first came back, everyone—whether it was friends, former colleagues, or old classmates who had gone to school together but hadn’t been in touch for many years—came up to me, and I was a little overwhelmed.But you also know that people only try for a while, and if you keep turning them away, they'll all eventually leave. The only candidate I have considered is probably Christina. You also know the situation between us, or you know what I know. I still don't understand why I have such a bad attitude towards her.She doesn't bother me now, probably trying to be a good friend, sometimes, I wish she'd come to my house, drag me out, and bully me like she used to.

Of course, at first, I was thinking about moving, but I really like this house, and if I'm going to sell it, it can't be because of some bastard thief.I can't sell either.How can I get a loan to buy a new house after selling it?I also thought about getting a job.I've got all sorts of new skills now, but I'm bored thinking about what they might set me to do. Speaking of which, I'm reminded of the last time Luke called me when I got home from therapy. "My accountant resigned, Annie. Could you come and help me for a while until I find another accountant? It's a part-time job, and..."

"I don't need your help, Luke." "Who says this is helping you? This is helping me and I need your help - I don't know anything about accounting anyway. I'm a little embarrassed to ask you for help, but you're someone I know The only one out there who is good with numbers. I can bring all the stuff to your house, and you don't have to go to the restaurant to work." I think it should be the embarrassing atmosphere at that time that prompted me to agree to him. Although I don't know much about this job, I can always try hard.Later, I changed my mind again.I'm not ready yet!I almost called him and said I regretted it.But I took a few deep breaths, and I told myself, just get some sleep.As a result, the burglary happened the next morning.In the confusion and ensuing panic, I had completely forgotten my pact with Luke.Until last night, he left me a message on the phone, saying that he would come over this weekend and install the accounting software on my computer.His voice sounded so relieved and grateful to me that I couldn't think of a way to excuse it.Also, I'm not sure if I really want to say no.

For Luke, I tell myself, this is business, but I know I'm not the only one who can help him with his books—there are many, many names of the town's accountants in the phone book. Last Monday night, I had a cold and it was getting worse, and I lay on the couch in faded blue flannel pajamas and plush hedgehog slippers, with a box of tissues cradled on my chest, and I put the TV on On, the sound is very low.Suddenly, I heard a car door slam in the driveway in front of the house.I held my breath and pricked up my ears to listen.Was that the sound of footsteps?I peeked out the window, it was pitch black and I couldn't see anything.I snatched up the poker which was lying by the fireplace.

Gently, the sound of footsteps walking up the steps, and then a silence. I gripped the tongs tightly, and looked through the peephole, but still saw nothing. There was a rustling sound from under the door.Emma cried out. I yelled, "I know you're out there. Tell me who you are!" "God, Annie, I just helped you get the newspaper." It's mom. I unbolted the latch - the last time the locksmith came to fix the door frame, I had him install an extra latch for me.Emma sniffed Mommy and ran straight into my room, where she probably hid under the bed.I'd love to run away with it too.

"Mom, why don't you call first?" She shook her head, her ponytail dangling from the back of her head.She stuffed the newspaper into my hand and went out again.I grab her by the shoulders. "Wait a minute. I didn't tell you to go, you just gave me a big jump. I just... fell asleep." She turned, stared at the wall behind me with her big, doll-like blue eyes, and said, "I'm sorry." I'm a little surprised.Although there is a bit of reluctance in this "I'm sorry", as far as I can remember, my mother has never apologized to anyone for anything.

She looked at me from head to toe, and finally stared at the plush hedgehog slippers on my feet, her eyes widening in surprise.My mother is the kind of person who always wears fashionable high-heeled slippers at home no matter summer or winter. Before she could express her opinion, I said, "Come in?" She walked into the house and stood in the foyer, and I noticed that she was holding a big brown paper bag in her hand.For a second, I wondered if she had brought wine, but no, the contents of the bag were flat.In her other hand she held a crisper, which she tossed at me. "Wayne was in town and he dropped me off. I made you Annie Bear biscuits." Oh, and peanut butter cookies shaped like bear paws, and chocolate palms.When I was a kid, if I was sad or my mother felt guilty about something, she would make them for me, but not often.She must have felt sorry for our argument last time. "Mom, you're so kind, I haven't eaten in a long time." She didn't say anything, just stood there, eyes rolling, looking around my room, and then went to the fireplace and fiddled with the potted plants dead leaves. Before she could criticize my plant-care skills, I said, "I've got a cold and I don't know if you want to stay here, but if you want to sit down, I'll make some tea." "Are you sick? Why didn't you tell me earlier?" She suddenly regained her spirits, as if she had won the lottery for the best mother award. "We'll drive you to the doctor when Wayne comes. Where's your phone number? I'll call the doctor right now and make an appointment." "I've had enough of doctors." Hell, I sounded like that psycho. "Really, if I think I need to see a doctor, I can drive there by myself, but it doesn't matter. It's so late now, and I can't make an appointment with the doctor." "Nonsense, my doctor will see you." In all my life, my mother has never felt that she had to wait for anything—whether it was a doctor's appointment, a table in a restaurant, or a supermarket. Waiting for checkout—she can always get a doctor's appointment, sit at the best table, or have the store manager himself open a cash register for her in less than an hour. "Mom, no, I'm fine. It's no use going to the doctor with a cold..." She opened her mouth to cut me off, and I raised my hand, "I promise, if I get seriously ill, I will I will definitely go to the doctor." She sighed, put the backpack and paper bag on the coffee table, and patted the sofa. "Otherwise, you lie down, and I'll pour you a cup of hot honey lemon tea." If I told her that I still have the ability to boil water by myself, maybe it would only get her to look up and down again, so I just lay down on the sofa. "Yes, the kettle is on the stove." After a while, she brought me a cup of hot lemon tea, a plate of bear biscuits, and she drank a glass of red wine, which I put in the kitchen.She sat on the other end of the couch and spread the blanket over both of us. She took a big sip of her wine, handed the paper bag to me, and said, "I found that photo album you mentioned. I don't know what happened. It must have been mixed with our things." How could it be.But I'm not going to argue.She had brought the picture, and that was enough.The hot tea warmed my whole body, even my feet on my mother's lap. I started looking through the photo album, and my mother took out an envelope from the bag and handed it to me. "You don't have any of these photos, so I added a set for you." Her move was completely out of my expectation, so I had to look down at the first photo in my hand.In the photo, Mom and Daisy are wearing the same clothes, the same ponytail, and the same roller skates, standing at a skating rink in the town.Daisy looked to be about fifteen years old, probably not long before the car accident, and her mother looked fifteen or sixteen in her bright pink dress.I forgot that my mother occasionally attended Daisy's skating practice. "Before, people always said we were like two sisters," she said.I just want to say, really?I don't feel it at all. "You are more beautiful than Daisy." "Annie, your sister was a little beauty." I looked into her face.There were tears in her eyes, and I knew that she was very happy, and I also knew that she agreed with what I said. She stood up and went to pour the wine again, I looked at the rest of the photos, after a while, she sat back with a full glass of wine - this time she brought the whole bottle and put it on the coffee table , there was only half of the wine left in the bottle-I stopped when I turned to the last picture, which was a photo of Dad and Mom on their wedding day. I turned to look at my mother, who was staring at the glass in her hand.Maybe it was the light, but her eyes looked wet anyway. "Your dress is beautiful." I looked at the heart-shaped neckline and the beaded veil of my mother's long blonde hair.I looked up after reading it. Mom leaned over to me and said, "I made it after your Auntie Val designed her own wedding dress. I told her that her breasts are too small for this dress." Mom laughed, "In the end, she Never forgive me again, can you believe it? One is because of this incident, and the other is because I dated your dad." She shrugged, "Your dad liked me more at the time, is it my fault?" This is the first time I heard of it. "Has Auntie dated Dad before?" "They only dated a few times, but I guess she thought they were a good match. The day my dad and I got married, she was so angry that she barely spoke to me. By the way, did I tell you What does our wedding cake look like? There are three tiers and..." Mom began to describe their wedding feast, details I'd heard a hundred times, and I thought about Aunt Val as I listened.No wonder she kept wanting to get revenge on her mother.That might also explain why she treated Daisy and me so badly.When we were young, my mother and aunt made an agreement to help each other take turns raising the children every weekend. This was the time when Dai Qian and I were most afraid.Aunt Val is basically ignoring me, but I can swear, she hates Daisy, she will find any reason to make fun of Daisy, and Tamara and her brother will gloat and laugh non-stop. After the car accident, we rarely get together.Wayne and Uncle Mark didn't have many topics in common, and they didn't like each other, so it was a party, but it was mainly about mother and aunt together.When they brought our kids along, my cousin Jason would just keep laughing at me, and Tamara would shy away from me—I think she's just an egomaniac.Now, I understand that her mom has probably been talking bad things about me to her all the time, just like my mom has been talking bad things about hers to me. One day after I moved into my own house, Mom and Aunt Val dropped by, just after shopping.My aunt looked around my house, and then asked me if I liked the real estate business. "Not bad, I like a challenge." "Yeah, Tamara is doing quite well too. She is the sales champion of their company this season, and won a bottle of Dom Pérignon's top champagne and a free trip to Whistler on the weekend. Your company also has such rewards Right, Annie?" It was a powerful move, but too obvious.My company is big in Clayton Falls, but not nearly as big as the company Tamara works for, which is in downtown Vancouver.We've had good sales and it would be nice to get a bottle of wine and a plastic medal. Before I opened my mouth to answer, my mother said, "Oh, is she still selling apartment buildings? Anne is working on a big project now, which is all villas by the sea. Didn't you say that it was the largest building in Clayton the other day?" Annie?" I've only talked to the developer once, and I haven't even started an advertising campaign. Mom knows all about it, but she just likes to exaggerate, and I dare not contradict her to my face. I said, "Yeah, it's a big project." "Val, I'm sure Tamara will get a project like this one day. Maybe Anne can give her some advice on buying a house." Mom smiled at Aunt Val, who had a look on her face like The tea I just drank in my mouth turned into poison. Of course Aunt Val was going to rise up and resist. "That would be great, but now that Tamara finds out that it's more profitable to sell apartment buildings, she doesn't want to spend years trying to market a project that might never sell. But, I know, Anne must will do well." Mom turned red and I was worried for a minute, but she quickly smiled and changed the subject.I really don't know how these two grew up together. My mother rarely talked about her childhood. I know that when she was very young, her parents separated, and her mother married a loafer.Her stepfather also has a son, Dwight, who is still in prison.Dwight was caught robbing a bank when he was nineteen, shortly before his mother got married, and he was released a month after his father and Daisy's car accident.A week later, he was arrested again.This time it was a shot in the leg of a guard.I've never met Dwight, and my mother doesn't want to talk about him.Once, I made the mistake of asking my mother if we could go and see him, and my mother went into a rage: "Don't even think about getting close to that person".I said, "But Tamara told me that Aunt Val took them all the time, so why can't we..." She had already slammed the door and gone. Then we moved into a run-down, rented house, and one day I came home from school to find my mother sitting on the couch, staring at a letter in her hand, with a half-drunk bottle next to her. vodka.She looked as if she had just cried. I asked, "What's the matter, Mom?" She just stared at the letter. "Mother?" There was desperation in her voice: "I'm not going to let it happen again. Absolutely not." A sense of fear suddenly crossed my mind: "What... you won't let something happen?" She took out a lighter, lit the letter, and threw it into the ashtray.After the letter was burned to ashes, she picked up the wine bottle and staggered into the room.On the kitchen table, I found an envelope with a return address of a prison.The next morning, the envelope was gone, too, and Mom didn't leave the house for a week after that. "You know what, Luke is a lot like your dad." Mom said, and I came to my senses. "Do you think so? I think they are alike in some ways. He's as patient as Dad, there's no doubt about it. We've been talking a lot lately, and I'm going to help him with the accounting." "Accountant?" Her surprised tone seemed like I had just announced that I was going to be a receptionist. "You hate accountants the most." I shrugged. "I have to make money." "That means you haven't talked to the filmmakers yet?" "I've decided that I don't want to use my experience to make money anymore. The thought of someone, including myself, taking advantage of this and making money makes me sick." When I first saw one of my high school classmates being interviewed on TV, I sat on the couch in awe. I hadn't seen this girl in over ten years, and yet, she was on a talk show Talk about it.About the first time she and I tried weed; about the outdoor parties we went to together; I read aloud the little notes we used to write to each other in class.And that wasn't the worst part - the worst part was that the man I slept with the first time sold our story to a men's magazine.The bastard even gave them pictures of us together.One of them was of me in a bikini. Mom said, "Annie, you really need to think hard. You're running out of time." Her face was serious. "You didn't go to college, you didn't go to college. You can almost do sales. Now, No matter what you’re pitching—everyone sees you and thinks you’re a victim. Doing accounting for Luke? How long is that going to last?” I also remember a few days ago, a filmmaker called me.Before I hung up, she said: "I know you must hate people to disturb you, but I promise, if you can take a few minutes to listen to me, by then, if you still refuse, I will definitely not I'll call you again." Her serious tone moved me, and I asked her to continue. She told me: "I can dispel rumors in a way like making a movie, and my story can benefit women all over the world."Finally, she said, "Why are you hesitating? If you could tell me what you are afraid of, maybe I could help you." "Sorry, I promised to let you go on, but I didn't agree to tell you my secret." She went on, as if she really knew what I was worried about and what I wanted to hear—she even told me that the final script and casting of the movie could be finalized by me.She also said that what I was paid was enough to live on for the rest of my life. I said, "I still don't want to, but if I change my mind, I'll be the first to call you." "I really hope that you can think about it carefully, and I also hope that you can understand that my proposal has a time limit..." She was right, and so was Mama.If I waited too long, then I would be more than a day or two late, and at that time, I would be short of more than one or two dollars.But I was really hesitant, should I accept my mother's advice, or ignore her advice and let myself fall into a difficult life, which is more terrifying? Mom looked away from the TV and took another swig of red wine.I asked, "Did you give my phone number to a filmmaker?" Her hand holding the cup stopped in mid-air, and she frowned: "Did someone call you?" "Yeah, that's why I'm asking you. My phone number isn't made public." She shrugged: "Those people have a lot of ways." "Don't tell them anything, Mom. Please." We looked at each other for a moment, and then she threw her head back and leaned against my couch. "I know, I've been tough on you two sisters, but it's only because I want you to be better off than me." I waited for her to continue, but she just pointed at the TV with the hand holding the wine glass , "Do you remember when I told you and Daisy to watch this late?" I noticed that she was staring at the trailer playing on the screen - it was her favorite movie. "Of course I do. You'll watch it with us, and we'll all sleep in the living room." She was immersed in the memory, smiling, but her face was full of sadness.She turned her head to look at me, and the sadness on her face turned into thought. "An hour later. Since you're sick, why don't I just spend the night with you?" "Ah, I don't know, I always get up at seven o'clock to go running recently, you..." She turned to watch TV again.This sudden shift of focus kinda breaks my heart, but I definitely won't show it. "Okay, of course, it's good to have someone to accompany you, besides, I'm so sick, why should I go for a walk, right?" She smiled at me and patted my feet under the blanket. "Then I'll stay, Annie Bear." She took the cushions off the other sofa and made a bed in the center of the living room floor.When she asked where I kept the other blankets, her face was flushed with excitement.I thought, whatever, let it be.It's better than being alone in the closet without being able to sleep, thinking over and over again, why didn't the thief take anything? Later, when Wayne came to pick up Mom, she sent him back, and we watched and ate popcorn, bear biscuits, and ice cream, and Mom watched and fell asleep, her small body leaning against my back , her knees curled up against mine.Her breath blowing behind my back, her hands resting on top of mine, I stared at her tiny palms and realized that this was the first time I'd let someone get so physically close to me since returning from the mountains.I turned away, not wanting my tears to drip onto her arms. Doctor, every time I say something bad about my mother, I immediately think about all the good things about her—it's kind of like my way of warding off evil.The point is, mom isn't all flaws, and that's the problem.It would be easier if I could hate her, but she does love sometimes, but it's just so rare that it makes it harder for me.