by Rue Volley
I had never once felt as if I couldn’t accomplish something that I set out to do.
I shook the suitcase at my side, my shoulders along with it. I need to shed these negative thoughts and try to find myself again. I had to. Otherwise, I wouldn’t survive. The body may go on, but the spirit would slowly fade. I couldn’t allow that to happen. My dad would be devastated, even from the grave.
This wasn’t the end. It was the beginning for me. A new day, a new life. A new outlook. That was the whole reason that I sold the ring and came home. I needed to start over.
I had spent weeks on end mourning him, mourning us. Mourning the loss of something that had never even been fully realized yet. Was it fair to beat myself up over it? Fair to push Avery, Sam, and everything else in my life away from me? I had to disagree. I needed to wake up now and not ten years from now still wishing and not doing.
I blinked as a couple of kids rode by on their bicycles. It was the beginning of summer, hot days lay ahead, and the spring had ended. It was that time of the year when you plant new life into the ground and watch it bloom. Hopeful that it will survive just as you planned, but life is full of twists and turns. Not everything makes it through. I didn’t want to be a casualty. I needed to fight my way back. Starting where it all began, where I began. It seemed fitting. It appeared to be the only option now.
I rubbed my neck and tried to ease the tension that sat deep in my muscles. The ride on the bus had been a long one. I attempted to ignore New York City as it slowly disappeared behind us on the horizon. I kept focusing on thoughts of home. I focused on my mom and my old bed. All the familiar sights and sounds that would make me feel comfortable. I just wanted to belong. I hadn’t felt that way in quite some time.
I turned and started to walk. One foot after the other. The ground sloped upward, I could feel the pull in my muscles as I fought against it. It was a foreshadowing of what lay ahead for me. It would be a slow climb back to Abi, back to who I could be. I wanted to be someone full of hope and promise. Not someone who was tired and worn down from circumstance.
That wasn’t who I was born to be.
I stopped on the corner and stared up the road. The same houses lined each side of it. One blue, one red, one dark grey—a few white homes were scattered in between the others. All of them showing off their owners’ individual personalities. I truly loved this town. I always had. It’s funny how you don’t realize what home is until you feel homeless.
I felt that way, but I was sure that it would change.
I turned the corner and walked two blocks before I finally saw it. The house on the hill. My old house. A place where I had skinned my knees, colored my hair all sorts of crazy, listened to my favorite bands and fantasized about finding a happy ever after. The house that sent me off to school with hopes for the future, and the place where Sam had picked me up in his cherry red Mustang for prom.
I stepped up to the edge of the walkway leading toward the house. It was entirely constructed of grey cobblestone and had been hand-laid by my dad when I was still in elementary school. I stood there and just took it all in. I could see the flowers blooming all around the foundation, healthy and placed with care by my mom’s hand. Each section clustered with a myriad of different types of blooms that stood out against the house in every color of the rainbow. It had always been this way.
The yard was still lush and emerald green, just as I remembered it. The grass was freshly cut and manicured. It was thick enough to allow you to stretch your toes out in it, begging for my shoes to come off. I could smell the soothing aroma of everything blending in the air around me.
The porch swing gently swayed in the breeze. It was covered in the same old quilted blanket that my mom had made when I still lived at home. It consisted of multiple patterns of fabric in different shades of blues, pinks, and purples. A patchwork of materials that she had left over from other sewing projects. A large overstuffed baby blue pillow was happily nestled on the edge of it. I remembered falling asleep right there on that pillow letting it gently guide the way. It smelled like my mom’s perfume, a sweet blend of vanilla and honeysuckle.
The door opened up, and my mom appeared. She took a couple of steps and then walked down the stairs toward me. I started to walk, but it quickly turned into a jog, and then a full out sprint toward her. I dropped my suitcase and along with it, weeks of buried pain.
I crashed into her, and she wrapped her arms around me. I sobbed, burying my face into her shoulder. I couldn’t speak. The tears flowed as I let it all go. She held onto me, no questions asked. Just as a mother would do.
“Seriously, Mom?” I said as I laughed out loud. I placed the bottle of beer to my lips and sipped on it. I usually don’t drink beer, but it’s a special occasion. Besides, my mom has great taste in alcoholic beverages, and the selection in her refrigerator consisted of dark lagers and flavored beers. My favorite, if I had to pick any.
I pointed the neck of my beer bottle at her. She spoke, her voice cracking with laughter. “I’m serious, he was huge.” She held her hands up, leaving them both a few inches apart.
My eyebrow rose. I’m sure that the expression on my face was a blend of shock and awe. “I just don’t think I can listen to this from you. I may die.” I took another drink and decided to gulp it down. The small sips just weren’t enough to handle this conversation.
She bit her lip and toyed with the loose ball of hair on the back of her head. Her hair was the same as mine. Deep black and healthy. I totally got my hair from my mom, as I did most of my physical attributes. I look a lot like her, except for my eyes. They are bright green and thickly nestled in jet black lashes like my dads were. My mom’s eyes are dark brown, almost black. They could be wicked to look at if you crossed her. Almost demonic in nature.
She removed her hand and waved it around. “You’re old enough to know that your mom’s still active.”
I choked on my beer and tapped on my chest, the coughing followed. “Active? You mean bunca chunca wow wow,” I smacked the air.
She grinned at the opening of her bottle and then took a drink, shrugging her shoulders at the same time.
She swallowed without any problems at all. “Sure, or just boning, whichever you prefer.”
“Oh my God! I can’t.” I threw my hands up in the air. I pushed myself up, leaving the rocking chair behind. It rocked a couple of times and then stopped. I walked barefoot to the front door. I stopped and turned back to face her. I shook my empty beer in her direction. “Do you want another one?”
She bit the top of her bottle and growled. “Yes, I can practice on it.”
I rolled my eyes and walked inside. My mom and I had always been able to talk to each other openly, but we had never talked about her being sexually active with anyone. I wasn’t quite sure how I was supposed to react to it. I knew that she thought that I had had sex with Jack. She may be shocked to find out that we never did. I wasn’t sure.
I walked through the foyer, past the tall stairs that ran up the right side of the room. The white banister stood out against the medium grey wall. Tons of pictures sat behind it. Every frame was unique and consisted of different shapes and sizes. All of the pictures were in black and white. Each frame was hand-painted in white by my mom and had chips of paint missing here and there, which added character. The pictures told a story—everything from my childhood to college graduation.
My history, this home's history, played out in captured moments.
I stopped and held onto the banister, staring up at a happy picture, one of me and my dad, standing next to each other, each one of us holding a fish. Mine was bigger than his. My smile was bigger too. I rested my chin on the wood, letting out a sigh. I missed him so much.
“Hi, dad,” I said quietly, not taking my eyes off of him. I remembered that day as if it were just yesterday. I guess that’s how memories are. The good ones stick with you, unfortunately, so do the bad.
The phone went off in the kitchen, and I jumped. My mom must be the only perso
n left in the world who had a home phone and no cell. She refused to step forward. She didn’t even utilize the computer that I had purchased during a Black Friday sale for her a couple of years prior. She only played solitaire on it. It cracked me up. I thought that maybe she would want to skype with me, so we could see each other on the screen while I was still in school, but no.
I walked to the phone that rested on the wall in the kitchen, picked it up and tucked it in between my shoulder and ear. I held it securely with my head as I simultaneously opened the refrigerator with my foot and then snagged two more bottles of beer with my free hand. I nearly dropped everything when Avery yelled at me from the other end of the line.
“What the hell, woman!”
I sighed. “Oh man, Avery.”
She tapped her nail on the side of her phone, and I could hear it. She sounded agitated.
“Money? Am I a prostitute now? Is this some kind of payoff to make me just go away?” Her voice went up at the end of every sentence. I held my laughter at bay. It would only infuriate her more.
I shook my head and almost dropped the phone. I rushed toward the counter and set the beers down, grabbing it and getting everything under control.
“Okay—no, you’re not a prostitute, although I do remember you telling me that you were at one point in time. By the way, I would totally hit that if you were, and if I had any money at all to spend on—”
She interrupted me. “I’m not laughing, Abi.”
“I know, this is a tough crowd. I guess hints at lesbianism is not going to help me out, huh?”
She paused then spoke with no emotion in her voice. “No, it isn’t. You don’t just toss some money on the counter and leave a note.”
I pushed myself up on to the island in the middle of the kitchen and stared down at my bare feet. I tapped them together a few times. She was right. I should have called her, or waited for her to get home, but I was caught up in the moment. I was afraid that I would lose my nerve if I slowed down to think about it.
“Would it help if I told you that my mom just told me how big the mailman’s thing is?”
She quickly laughed and then stopped herself, like she didn’t want to let me know that I could amuse her. “Shut up.”
I whispered into the phone, and I leaned over the edge of the island so that I had a clear view of the front door. “I’m dead serious. She is getting her groove on here. I mean he was literally delivering the mail, and she invited him in to quote, unquote, fix a pipe. It was like a porn.”
“A pipe?” she laughed. “Well good for her, now back to my horrible friend who abandons people without any warning.”
I leaned back and switched the phone to my other ear.
“Avery, I’m sorry. I just—I had to get out of there. It wasn’t you. You know that.”
“Damn straight it wasn’t me. I’ve been trying to pry you away from that file, or whatever, for weeks now. You were always tired, or you had a headache. I mean babes, I get it. I do, but you have to keep living.”
I nodded and closed my eyes. I leaned my head back and held onto the phone. I didn’t want to discuss it.
“I know—I do,” I whispered back to her.
I slid from the side of the island when I heard the screen door open and then close. My mom walked into the kitchen and grabbed a beer. She placed it on the side of the island and hit it, the cap flew off as she winked at me and left the room. I whispered into the phone.
“I think that my mom has been replaced with a horny alien teenager.”
Avery giggled, and I smiled. “Stop trying to make me laugh.”
“But you are and that makes me happy.”
She sighed. “Abi, what are you doing? When are you coming back home?”
I hesitated, but I knew I had to tell her the truth.
“I needed a break from all of it. From him. The city—not you, never you—but I’m going to stay for the summer, and then probably come back.”
“Probably?” Avery yelled. I had to pull the phone away from my ear. I placed it back very slowly.
“Avery, I’ll be back, no probably, okay? I just need to do this. I hope that you can understand.”
She paused, letting out a sigh. “Okay. I’m coming to see you, soon.”
I grinned. “Hey, how did you know I was here?”
She snorted. I could only imagine her rolling her eyes right along with it. “As if I wouldn’t know where you would go.”
“Seriously? This was your first guess? I’m that transparent, huh?”
“Well—to be honest, unlike you—I called Sam first and he said you were probably there.”
I looked at my beer and grinned. “He did, huh?”
“Yes, he did.”
I tapped my finger against my bottom lip while holding the phone in my hand. “Did he say anything else?”
She groaned. “No—do you want me to pass him a note in class with a series of questions about how he feels about you?”
I laughed. “It isn’t like that at all.”
Her comeback was laced with sarcasm. “Right.”
I bit my lip. “It isn’t. I like Sam, as a friend. That’s it, nothing more. And besides, he is on my crap list. He wrote an article about—well, it doesn’t even matter.”
“A friend, huh? And what article are you talking about?”
I looked up at the ceiling and messed with the ball of hair on the top of my head. “It doesn’t matter, but yes, I like Sam as a friend, a friend only.” I let my arm drop. My hand slapped against the side of my thigh, and I immediately rubbed it from the faint stinging that it left behind.
“Too bad, because I think that man could hump the Jack right out of you.”
I laughed and then took a drink of my beer. “No, no humping, ever. I’m becoming a Nun. The boat has come and gone on the river gha gha for Abigail Watson.”
She laughed hard into the phone. “You crack me up, Abi. You just need to get laid and put this stuff behind you. I promise that once you do, Jack Landon will be just another penis in a sea of penises. I mean it is literally a sea of penises out here. Even your mom is getting on the dick train, whoo whoo!”
I laughed. “Great visual, thank you, Avery. I appreciate it. Now is it a sea of them or a train. I’m confused.”
“Shush, it can be either, but how would you know? You are busy slapping them off of you like mosquitos.”
“Oh my God, Avery, the dreams I will have tonight. Thank you.”
“Well, I’m glad to help, but seriously, don’t ever just write me a note and take off again. It hurts my feelings. Did you think that I would try to talk you out of visiting your mom, or what?”
I bit the side of my finger and then let it go. “I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking, and I’m sorry, I am hon, really I am.”
“Okay fine. Apology accepted, but I’m coming to see you in a week or so. Let me work it out with my job, ‘kay?”
I nodded. “I would love that, Mom would too.”
“Good, it’s a date. I love you.”
“I love you too.” I heard the click and walked the phone back over to the wall. I cradled it and took another sip of my beer. Then chugged half of it down quickly wiping my mouth with the side of my hand.
“Sam Quinn,” I whispered to myself, as I took another drink.
CHAPTER TWO
MAN BUN
__________________________________
I woke to the sound of birds chirping, which was quickly drowned out by the thunderous banging of a hammer on the side of the house. I covered my head with my pillow, and the hammering continued. I finally tossed my pillow across the room and sat up, sliding my feet out from underneath my comforter and attempted to brace myself. I had drunk a few too many beers, more than usual. The hangover was unpleasant. I blinked a few times and rubbed the side of my head. I caught my reflection in my large mirror that sat propped up in the corner of the room.
My hair was an absolute mess. I looked like a train wreck with no d
icks on it. Strands of it were sticking out this way and that way. I tried to pat it down, and it refused to comply.
I gave up and waved my hands in defeat. “Whatever,” I muttered.
I stood up and steadied myself with one hand behind me on the bed. I finally gained control and rubbed my temples with both hands. The throbbing in my head would only be dissuaded by coffee—lots and lots of coffee.
I walked to my window and stretched my arms out to my sides. I yawned without covering my mouth. A man came into view, swinging by my window just like Johnny Depp did in Benny and Joon. Don’t get me wrong, JD can stop by anytime he wants to, but this was a complete stranger.
He stopped dead, I looked at him and then felt the breeze. I had slept in my panties and no shirt or bra. My breasts were just flapping in the wind. I quickly covered them with both hands and dropped to the floor with a yell. He almost fell off of his harness, flipping upside down as I army crawled away from the window on my belly. I awkwardly made my way into my bathroom trying to avoid getting splinters in my lady bits. I kicked the door closed behind me with one foot and rolled onto my back.
I put my hands over my face and muttered to myself. “Great, I’m back one day and I’m flashing some stranger.”
I sat up and rubbed my head. I could already tell that it wasn’t going to be a great day. I looked at the bathroom window to make sure that it wasn’t open too. I sighed, the shades were drawn. He was cute, though, I think—in the few seconds that I saw him. I am, of course, referring to my mystery man who swung by my window.
I showered and decided to go downstairs. The man at my window had disappeared. Thank God. I entered the kitchen and quickly turned my back to make my escape. He sat at the island, drinking coffee, along with two other men. My mom turned with the coffee pot in her hand.
“Abigail, don’t be rude.”
I stopped dead and rolled my eyes, slowly turning back and grinning. I added a wave. It was awkward, there was nothing I could do to fix it.
“Hi,” I said. My mom waved me over to the island. I reluctantly approached it. My trepidation was deeply rooted in the memory of his facial expression as he had swung by my window.
