WHO: Michelle and Gus Arquette WHEN: A few years ago, after their last daughter moved out WHERE: Their home, in Cedarwood SUMMARY: Michelle and Gus realize that they truly are empty nesters now. WARNINGS: None
The Arquette home had always been full of life and laughter. In Michelle’s opinion, it was better to deal with the noisy mess that her daughters and their friends made, than to have a quiet and clean house but no idea what the children were up to while they were out and about. And so for decades, their home had been the meeting place of oh-so-many children - what with four daughters and their respective friends.
This was over now, though. Michelle closed her eyes, listening to the silence, only broken by the wind ruffling through the trees outside the window. She could no longer hear the motor of the car that was bringing their last daughter and her belongings to her new home; it had faded away after turning the corner. All four of their daughters had moved away now. It was a good thing; they were all grown up, they deserved to spread their wings.
Wow, Michelle thought, I’m thinking in clichés now.
Hearing a door creaking behind her, Michelle smiled. “It’s too quiet, isn’t it, love?” she said, as she turned towards her husband. “It’s just you and I, now.”
The fourth child leaving should have been the easiest one, what with having had her three sisters leave before her, but it ended up being the hardest because now it meant they were all gone. They were officially empty nesters. After the last daughter was gone and silence had descended upon the house, Gus went in search of his wife. Finding her, he smiled at her comment, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her in for a hug. "Does this mean it's finally time for us to start our rock band? We can fill the silence of the house with my extremely terrible guitar playing."
“Between your guitar playing and my off-key singing, we’d be set to keep any visitors away,” Michelle joked. Even after decades of marriage, there still was nothing like a hug from Gus to cheer her up. There had been ups and downs, like in any marriage, but there was no one who knew her like he did.
No one she would rather be with.
“That means more time for you and I.” As she spoke, Michelle was thinking back on the years when they’d run between their jobs, the school, the dance class, the soccer field… So many couples did not make it, but they had. They’d held on tight when they’d hit rough patches, trusting that the good times would come back. And it had. They’d earned this chance to be together now, to enjoy each other’s company with no children to sneak up on them.
Still comfortably wrapped in his arms, she began to hum an old Ramones song: “I want you around. I want you around. They’re telling us they’re gonna make a fuss about the two of us…”
They'd never really had any time together, just the two of them. Even before Jemma was born, the beginning of their marriage had been so… busy. With him commuting between Fall City and Seattle for school, both of them working. And then their four daughters joined the family. They'd had brief times of quiet when all four girls were actually out of the house, but they were few, short, and far between. But now this house that he'd been working toward his whole life felt too large now that it was empty of their daughters.
Gus smiled at Michelle's singing: he always thought she sounded beautiful when she sang. "Well, m'lady, if you're providing the music, then may I have this dance?" he stepped backwards and bowed extravagantly, then offered his hand to his wife.
Michelle took his hand with a warm smile. Gus truly knew how to make her feel special. “You can always have a dance, my love,” she replied, interrupting her song to do so. “We can have all the dances we want now that there’s no girl to come in and break the magic.” It sounded like a very good plan indeed, as she resumed her humming and they began to slowly twirl around their hardwood floors, the light wind that came in through the window caressing them.
There would be time to miss their children’s presence later.