“No. And you shouldn’t either. At least not unknown numbers.”
I roll my eyes. “I can’t ignore every call. Sometimes they’re important.”
“Sure, you can. If it’s important they’ll leave a message. That’s better than accidentally answering his. What did he say?”
“Nothing. I hung up when I realized who it was.”
“You need to be more careful.”
Sighing, I say, “I know.”
He climbs out of the car, leaning down to say, “I need to get back to work. Take my keys. I’ll meet you at Gran’s when I get off.”
I step out and open the back door to grab my suitcase, shutting it as Shane walks around the car to my side.
“Thanks for always looking out for me.” I wrap my arms around his middle and squeeze. “I love you.”
“Of course. I’ll always be here. I love you too, shithead.”
Pulling up to the house, I get an overwhelming urge to cry. I miss her every day. My body refuses to move from the car—every fiber of my being resisting the reality that when I step through that door, she won’t be there. French toast won’t be cooking on the stove. She won’t be humming along to her kitchen radio while she sips her afternoon tea from a cartoon coffee cup at the table. The acceptance and warmth I was showered with in that house, won’t be there.
I squeeze my eyes closed, swallowing down the lump in my throat, and step out of the car. Before forcing one foot in front of the other up to the front door, I take one final deep breath, knowing I’m not ready for this, but honestly, I don’t know that I’ll ever be.
I can see myself swinging on the white wrap-around porch with her smoking a cigarette while I read a Jane Austen book. The yellow siding is like a flashing beacon saying,welcome home, Ash.Her ashtray still sits on the glass-top table. It’s the same one that Shane tried to stand on to reach a hornet’s nest when I was fourteen. He fell, pissing off the hornets, and ended up in the ER.
I’m sure he’s been here because there’s a mix of her brand cigarettes and his. Her plants are still alive in their hanging pots around the porch, and someone’s cut the grass. I smile thinking about Shane coming here to look after things.
He’s made a lot of mistakes and drove Gran crazy. But he loved her, and she never stopped believing he could turnthings around. She always had a soft spot for him. I think a part of her felt guilty for not intervening sooner with our dad.
Walking through the front door feels like being ripped back in time—apple wallpaper in the kitchen, blue carpet in the living room, an ocean shower curtain in the bathroom. I run my fingers along the worn-out blue couch Shane and I watched movies on when we were hiding out here to avoid our dad. Family pictures decorate the hallway, including one of Gran and me sitting under the magnolia tree out back. The house even still smells like her. Everything’s like it was, except she’s not here.
When I reach the bedroom that used to be mine, I pause before going in. My heart feels like it might spill out onto the floor. I never got a chance to pack anything up—my pain preserved in this room. Pictures from one of the most excruciating summers of my life hang on a corkboard over my desk. My journal lies covered in doodles of hearts and filled with stupid dreams.
Stepping into the room, I drop my suitcase on the bed before falling to the floor and breaking down. Tears fall from my eyes, soaking into the cream-colored carpet as my shoulders shake.
I don’t know how much time passes when my misery is interrupted and the door creaks open.
“Fuck that! If you think you’re coming home to visit for the first time in six years just to sit there and cry, you’ve got another thing coming. Get your little ass off that floor and come here.”
My best friend smirks, motioning me toward her, and my heart immediately floods with warmth, a smile spreading across my tear-streaked face.
She leans against the door frame in distressed, wide-legjeans and a cropped band T-shirt. Nik has a sharp edge. She’s tall and curvy with pale-blonde hair that’s currently dyed pink at the ends, but that changes frequently. Her green eyes soften at the pathetic state I’m in.
She grew up in this town, having had to stand on her own her whole life. No one messes with Nik because she has the tongue of a viper. Those might sound like bad qualities, but she loves harder and deeper than anyone I know. Don’t think for one second I don’t realize how lucky I am to have her as my best friend.
I spring off the floor, wrapping my arms around her. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
She laughs, whacking my arm. “I don’t know what you were thinking either. You need me to keep you from cracking.” She grabs my face. “What the hell, you’ve been here all of an hour and you’re already bawling. Get a grip.”
That makes me laugh. No one can help me get up and brush it off quite like Nik. I was pretty shocked when I found out she’d started dating my brother, but honestly, no one else could deal with him like she does.
“So, what’s the plan here? Want to get drunk and toss some of this shit?” She gestures to the pictures and other memories scattered around the room.
I grimace. “Maybe we should start with a different room. I’m not sure I’m up for this one just yet.”
She grabs my hand and squeezes. “The kitchen? I bet Gran’s got some wine stashed away in there somewhere.”
I smile, standing and following her out of the room.
