I reach down and grab a shirt I’d already folded from the suitcase and refold it.
“Talk to me, honey. It’s clear as day that you’re worried about something.”
I secure her toiletry bag in the mesh zipper lining. It’s hard for me to open up to her after a lifetime of keeping silent and boxing things away with the mentality ofout of sight, out of mind. If I don’t think about it, it can’t hurt me. Right?
“I’m not used to good things happening to me. Things that appear too good to be true usually are.”
“Or things that appear to be true areexactlywhat they are: the truth,” she counterargues. Pushing the suitcase aside, she takes a seat beside me on the bed. “I know you’re going to tell me no, but I’m still going to say it anyway. I don’t have to go on this trip.”
“Yes, you most definitely do. Seeing the world has always been your dream, and your doctor said now is the time to do it while your symptoms aren’t bad. Please don’t make me the excuse you use not to go. Besides, I’ll be busy fixing up the house and working at Mickey’s. I’ve got Jordan, Harper, and Chase to keep me company.”
“I will hop on the first plane back if you need me to.”
I join her on the bed and take her hand. It’s ice cold, but smooth and soft from the wear of aging.
“I won’t need you to. I promise I’ll be fine. I’m so excited for you. I expect you to flood my phone with lots of pictures every day.”
I’ve already set up an international travel plan with her cell phone’s provider so she can make calls or send texts while abroad. Another three hundred extra dollars for the month she’ll be gone that I can’t afford right now. I’m hoping that tips will be good once I start working at Mickey’s. My bank account is getting to the point of running on fumes.
Natalie wistfully stares off into the distance. “Samantha and I had always wanted to travel the world together. You think you have time to do those things, constantly putting them off because you tell yourself, tomorrow. I can do those things tomorrow,” she says with such sadness.
Samantha is Jordan’s mom. Natalie has had to live through the premature deaths of both her parents, her sister, and the love of her life. So much loss in one’s lifetime.
Natalie squeezes my hand with a strength that belies her slight stature. “Never take a single day for granted, Douglass. Don’t let anything or anyone stop you from achieving your dreams.”
Too late for that. My dream was to go to college and pursue journalism. Get married. Have children who I could shower every ounce of love and affection I had in me. A family of my own. A career I loved. My dream was not to be the broken person I am today with no permanency or roots, working paycheck to paycheck, barely able to keep her head above water.
“I’m a work in progress,” I reply and leave it at that.
I look out the window into the backyard at the rustling leaves in the live oaks as they dance in the breeze.
“Hey, Natalie. When Amelia was here, did she say anything?”
“Just that she needed money. Why?”
Lie, the old Douglass chants inside my head. But I don’t listen to her. Not anymore.
“After our confrontation at Mickey’s, she drove over to Chase’s house and told him she was pregnant. Jordan said she said the same thing to him when he broke up with her. He thinks she’s lying, but what if she’s not?”
“Then we’ll welcome that baby into our home and our hearts and love it with everything we have in us.”
“That’s basically what I told Jordan.”
I feel, rather than hear, her dejected sigh beside me. “I don’t know what is wrong with that child. However, she’s not a child anymore, hasn’t been for a long time. I enabled your sister’s behavior, and I made things worse, didn’t I? Julia trusted me with her children, and I failed her spectacularly.”
Twisting around, I don’t mince words. “It’s not your fault that both of her daughters are screwed up. You’ve done nothing but love us unconditionally. The choices Amelia and I have made are on us, not you.”
Natalie’s hand comes to her mouth, like she’s trying to hold back whatever she wants to say. “I’m so sorry for not seeing what was going on right in front of my face. How could I not notice?”
She pounds a fist on the bed in frustration.
“You saw what I wanted you to see.”
The doorbell rings a strangled noise that sounds like a dying goose and puts an abrupt end to our emotionally charged conversation. It chimes again. This time the sound is even worse.
I get off the bed. “That’s absolutely horrible. I’ll add that to the top of my to-do list.”
It’s probably Harper. She said she would be finishing up earlier than planned today. Jordan wouldn’t ring the doorbell since Natalie has given himcarte blancheto come and go as he pleases.
