Slamming the car door, I take a deep breath and walk up the stairs toward our front door.
The two-story white structure with light blue shutters sits at the end of a long cobblestone driveway lined with the winter creepers I planted. It still needs a little work, but it’s come a long way since we moved here in June. That thought reminds me to stop at the local nursery to grab some fertilizer and flowers after school. I want to plant them near the front of the house.
As I cross the threshold, I expect to hear movement. Instead, I’m met with silence.
“Jamie, Kellan, and Kylan, where are you?” I call out to my brothers and sister.
I love them to the moon and back twice over, but I’m fucking tired, and after working third shift at Monty’s Diner, I need them to be ready for school.
Monty’s is this quaint retro-styled restaurant in the center of town where all the locals go. But don’t let the diner’s name fool you. They serve nothing but high-end farm-to-table food. It’s certainly not like any diner I've seen.
A high-pitched squeal signals the arrival of one of my siblings, indicating they are playing instead of being ready for their first day of school. If we don’t hurry they’ll be late and so will I.
Jamie flies down the stairs, screaming at the top of her lungs, “Ariahhhhhh, save meeeeeee! Those two douche canoes are trying to tickle me to death!”
Rolling my eyes, I laugh at my melodramatic eleven-year-old sister and brace myself as she catapults into my arms. Her green eyes peer into my gray ones, giggling as I put her lanky form back on her feet.
Her laughter is infectious, making me wish this could be us all the time. Making me wish for days long ago when our family was whole.
Sobering thoughts of our predicament melt the smile from my face. I remember what might happen if her screams are heard from outside.
I couldn’t hear them when walking up the steps or when I first walked through the door, but it’s happened before. They were too loud, and the neighbors called the police and filed a noise complaint, and for once, the police decided to actually make a house call. Luckily, I’d gotten home fifteen minutes before they showed up to do a wellness check because we lived on a side of the city where we are lucky they come at all. Edgewood doesn’t strike me as a delayed-police-response town.
Sighing, I rest my hands on my rounded hips and inquire, “Jamie, how many times do I have to tell you not to make so much noise when it’s only the three of you home?”
Pouting, her small bow lips twist as she aims her emerald irises up at me giving me her infamous puppy dog eyes. Her golden locks are braided into two French braids and she's dressed in acid-washed jeans with a ‘normal is boring’ graphic tee— her signature look. At least she’s ready for school.
I know I’m being hard on her, but with no adults in the house, we can’t afford to draw any attention. Not when I’m so close to turning eighteen.
If she’s hurt by my reaction she doesn’t let on. Instead, she proceeds to explain. “I’m sorry Riah, but dummy one and dummy two were chasing me around the house, refusing to take a bath before school. Then, they partnered up to make sure that didn’t happen.”
Eight-year-old twin forces of nature hit the landing with a thump and matching looks of mock innocence lining their cherub faces. Kellan and Kylan are identical, carbon copies of our dad with his strawberry blond hair, haunting gray eyes, and face speckled with freckles.
Jamie and I both look like a blended version of both of our parents. She has our dad’s ivory complexion and mom’s green eyes. While I have our mom’s sun-kissed, year-round glow and our dad’s gray ones.
Lifting my hand, I rub circles in the center of my chest. Thinking about Dad causes a spasm in my solar plexus. I still can’t believe we have no idea where he is. He was overseas on a humanitarian mission with the military when he went missing from his unit and he hasn’t been seen or heard from in over two years.
I was, and am, devastated. He’s my best friend. He’d watch all my favorite nineties and early two thousand teen movies or run through different tactical drills with me. He’d always say ‘it’s better to be over-prepared and not need it than to be underprepared and not have it.’ His absence has caused a black hole-sized chasm in our family.
I can still remember the look on my mom’s face when the call came in. It’s why she’s on a bender somewhere instead of being here on our first day of school.
My pulse kicks up, pounding a staccato beat. I feel the tightness in my chest as panic settles in, but I can’t succumb to this feeling.
Come on Riah! Get it together. Not today. Don’t go down that road. Get your shit together.I berate myself. There's too much that needs to be done, and I don’t have time for a meltdown.
I suck in a deep breath and hold it. I allow myself one more moment, because a moment is all I can afford to have, before I turn my attention to my brothers. I can’t let them see me break. They look to me for stability and security. If I break, then who will take care of them?
Looking down at the twins, I expel the breath I was holding.
“Kell… Ky… you know the rules. Did Mom come home at all while I was at work?” I ask them.
Kell is the first to answer. “Riah, we haven’t seen Mom in like two days.” He shrugs, used to her disappearing acts.
Huffing, I tilt my chin toward my chest as my lips pull into a frown. Mom’s getting worse. When she’s home she’s too out of it to help and as soon as the fog of her alcohol- and drug-induced stupor wears off, she disappears again. She never stays long enough to actually care for any of us. I’d hoped moving here would keep her out of trouble, but it’s having the opposite effect.
Edgewood is a small town. I don’t think more than a thousand people live here. One main road leads in and out of this place and the center of town is lined with mom-and-pop shops. Not a single chain restaurant or store in sight.
However, it’s full of some of the wealthiest people in the world. It’s almost as if the town itself is a gated community. McMansions are everywhere making our house look like a shack.
