Jim sighed as he entered the house and dropped his heavy bag, sprinkled with April rain, onto the shaggy orange carpet. He rolled his shoulders in relief and stretched his feet. Wood panelling coursed the interior of the house, hugging the walls as if it was afraid of being caught. Jim had been assigned by his mother to paint the old walls a “vibrant color,” but had never gotten around to it, per usual. He did not seem to think that eggplant purple, or “mauve” walls, as his mother preferred to identify it, would go well with the rest of the house. Beige furniture, aside from Mr. Abernathy’s recliner, an assortment of green and orange carpeting, and pale yellow floor tiles arranged in an obnoxious pattern were not particularly easy to coordinate. The tiles had been laid by Mr. Abernathy himself many years ago because he refused to hire anyone to do a job he could potentially handle himself. The tiles were strewn about in an almost neat pattern with glue seeping …show more content…
Abernathy, Judy to some, held her head high as she scrubbed the kitchen table. Before she had married, Judy Fitzgerald had had the life she desired in previous years, partying until she no longer wished to and eating whatever she pleased. Judy had grown up in a Baptist family in Walhalla, South Carolina. She had six siblings, each similar to her until her late twenties when she met Reginald Abernathy. Infatuated with Reginald’s caring attitude and patience, Judy fell in love slowly, then all at once. It was not until years later, at her husband’s funeral, that Judy began to wonder if she had wasted her life. She could have had any man she chose, but instead she fell for a man with whom she seemingly had nothing in common. Judy kept these thoughts to herself, not wanting to burden her son any more than she already had. Jim worked hard, and his mother knew that, but he was too alike his father to never work. Reginald had worked every day of his life, and was a better man for it, but still not a good