And my business gives plenty to talk about with dating Joe. It’s a pleasant change of subject from the perpetual gossip surrounding my mom picking up her son’s car-crashed, mauled body, delivered on a plane from Tahiti back to Saint-Tropez. That is the kind of cargo that haunts the deepest, most somber part of your nightmares. If anything, my mom should be grateful for the distraction, I darkly muse to myself. Though my reflection in the mirror doesn’t.
After I got home, I tried on a dress I mindlessly bought on my walk, and it cannot convince me. I look like a scarecrow abandoned in a lavender field. I’m so hard on myself, the only person who reminded me of my worth was my brother. He would always remind me and say,“Little sis, I’m going to protect you forever because you’re too pure for the wilderness out there.”
Somehow the wild world consumed him instead, amid his promises.
Swallowing the pit of heaviness, I focus on my breathing but I can barely get rid of it. With my nerves too raw for stillness, my hands are shaking now. I keep telling myself it’s the caffeine, or the novelty of recent happiness replacing the suffocatingloneliness but I know I'm half lying to myself. I really want to be the version of myself that’s already survived the worst, leaving behind me the urge to vanish into the same thin air that swallowed my brother… it’s just really hard sometimes.
On my way out, my mom emerges from her bedroom, determined to make my life harder.
“Where are you going?” she asks, already furious, and no lies will calm her need for control.
“To see Joe,” I reply, trying to hide the tremor in my hands as I put my sneakers on before she spots one of my anxiety attacks. I opted for denim shorts and a black t-shirt, and I feel cute. I won’t let her ruin my night.
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am. What are you going to do? Physically restrain me?” I ask with barely any patience left in me.
“No. But step out of this house? Don’t bother coming back!” She raises her voice enough to shout. She’s one drink away from unleashing her wrath on me. I should serve it on the rocks for her.
“Fine!” I yell, slamming the door behind me without another glance.
I close my eyes, imagining what it would be like, to let the world shrink and stay with Joe, and not go home.
Three
Sara
As I walk up our sidewalk, I tiptoe through the garden, dodging the obstacle course of Liam’s boxing gear and the two motorcycles lining the driveway.
Joe waits under the fig tree, perched on the low stone wall, he’s changed into clean jeans and a white t-shirt that hugs his biceps perfectly and It’s quite incredible how he can look so hazardous one minute, and the next his aura is a calm stream.
He looks up when I approach, and his entire face goes soft, the tough-guy persona dissolving as he swings his legs off the wall.
“Hi,” he says, voice low.
“Hi.” I smile. He walks beside me in silence, not touching but close enough that our hands brush every few steps as we settle under the old olive tree, the ground still warm from the day. Tonight, it’s just us, the grass, the scent of the lemon trees, and the stars.
“You look beautiful,” he says, side-eyeing me.
“You do too, Joe.” I laugh, pinching my nose, “I mean… handsome.”
“Call me beautiful all day, beautiful, I’ll take it.” He stretches out his arms behind his head, smirking and wiggling his eyebrows, and stares up at the sky as if he’s memorizing the position of every single star.
After a few minutes of calmness and taking in the universe above us, he points to the sky. “Hercules, and Aquila, the eagle.”
A genuine smile and warmth spreads within me. “I didn’t know you knew anything about stars.”
“Why not? You didn’t think there was a bit of a nerd in me?” He smirks, looking at me.
“I honestly didn't. You’re full of surprises, Joe Laurent.” I smile back. “What made you learn about them?”
He thinks about his answer for a moment, I sense a hesitancy in him. “When my dad would drink too much and yell at my mom,” he pauses, “it was very toxic, so my mom would set up a little camping tent and mattress out here in the summer, hold us tight hoping we’d focus on the stars instead of our father being a deadbeat drunk.” I can feel the pain in his voice as he talks.
“You’ve never really told me about your dad, I’m sorry.” I caress his cheek.
“It’s okay, he’s dead now, and my mom is living the life she’s always deserved.”
My pulse stutters at that, as he lays himself back down and grabs my crossed legs to drag me closer to him.
