by Kellie Bean
I reach for my bag and hoist it up from the floor as I stand.
"Still, I won't take any more of your time." My face is burning.I'm sure she can see how embarrassed I am.
She stands when I do, shifting in front of me so I can't just push my way by.
"Reilly..."
Why does everyone keep saying my name like that lately?
"I really appreciate you trusting me enough to share all of that. I'm so sorry to hear about your Aunt. I met her at your parents’ wedding years ago, so I know first hand what an impressive woman she is. I won't pretend to have any kind of advice on that front, or any front really. Just know that it's okay to go a little easier on yourself sometimes. You can't be all things to all the people you love, not all the time. They shouldn't expect you to."
"Thanks. I know I messed up with Sarah. I've been so wrapped up in..." Rosie. "I know I've been a lousy friend. I know I can do better."
"Then that's what you need to do. It's all you can do. We all screw up, and hopefully, we all try to do a little better after that. Okay?"
I nod and do my best to believe what she's telling me. "Yeah, sure. Anyway, I should get home."
"Say hi to your mom for me will you?"
"Of course."
I'm out the door a minute later as Lizzie sweeps back into the life of a diner owner, like she never stopped moving, checking in on tables and wiping down ours.
I have a pile of homework I need to get through tonight. I also want to make a point of calling Sarah. Rosie too. And I want to check in with Rhiannon about how her channel is going Not forgetting Aunt Grace either. Well, you know... just because.
I still walk slower than usual as I leave the main stretch of Fairview and head for home.
Do I feel better? A little.
If nothing else, I at least feel like I've got some kind of handle on everything I'm trying to work through.
That's something.
Because I'm already thinking about her, I can't help but grab my phone and send one last text off to Rosie, even though I know she probably won't check her phone for a while. It's still all kinds of nice to think that the girl I love is just on the other side of... the internet? Or the phone line? I'm not really sure how all of this works. Even though we're not together physically right now, she's still only a button press away.
Reilly: Thanks for the milkshake. Miss you already. I love you.
The last part gets deleted before I hit send, but I know that I mean every word.
CHAPTER TWENTY
It takes me two solid weeks of obsessing over college applications to actually turn all of the research I've been doing about different schools over the past two years into a game plan. Pretty much everything is online, at least for the initial application process. Even the one art program I've picked up—one of the ones I know is at the top of Rosie's list—only asks for me to take a picture of the pieces I want to include as my portfolio.
To accompany my work, I've got three finished essays. One for state school, one for a college that has a solid reputation for the humanities, and one for a University near Richmond that I grew up telling myself I'd go to.
I chose four more colleges based on the list Rhiannon gave me, hoping that at least half of the places I've applied to will be interested in me back. I like the idea of having four schools to choose from.
The number ‘four’ has worked well for me so far.
Everything is ready to go. As my finger hovers over the button I need to click to send all things Reilly off into the internet, I find myself hesitating.
This is it.
This is the moment that sets the rest of my life in motion.
Am I completely sure that each of my applications is as strong as it possibly can be? Or that each of the schools I've selected is the best possible fit? Probably. But not definitely. I still have some time.
"Dinner!" Dad's voice rings up from the main floor.
This is as good a time as any to hit pause, go over everything again, then send this all off tomorrow. I'm not much of a procrastinator, really. I just want to get this right.
I triple check that everything has saved properly before logging off and heading downstairs. Something smells awesome, so I pick up my pace, putting any lingering stress about applications and my future on hold.
Most of my family is already downstairs by the time I get there. Reece and Molly come into the kitchen from the backdoor at the same time I enter from the hall. Together, we both grab some of the food or plates and head into the dining room.
Having Grace be part of our not-so-little family unit already feels completely natural. Tonight, she's taken up her usual seat between Dad and Reagan. I sit down across from her after handing everyone a plate.
Automatically, I reach for the spot where the salad bowl usually sits, eager and hungry. My hand comes up empty. There's nothing there. Not bothering to explain, I get up and head back to the kitchen, assuming it got left behind. There's nothing there either.
"Dad?" I call.
"What's up?"
"Salad? Or something?"
Without fail, for more than five years now, Dad has always made at least one part of every dinner something without meat, or that can easily be altered without meat. Since we're having chicken tonight, I figured salad was a safe bet.
Dad appears in the kitchen a moment later. "I forgot! I don't know how. My mind has just been all over the place." There's an excitement in the statement I wasn't expecting. I'd assumed he was talking about everything happening with Aunt Grace, but he actually seems excited about something. "Here, I'll—"
"Nope! Go eat. I've got this." Whatever it is, it'll have to wait a few more minutes.
I thankfully bagged some salad and some dressing; it’s not exactly culinary art. At least not for me. My sisters all love to eat. I don't usually give it that much thought beyond being certain I have no interest in meat. As long as I know I'm getting everything into my body that needs to be there, I could eat the same stuff every day and be pretty okay with it.
There are three different conversations going on at the table by the time I get back. Dad stops them all as soon as I sit down.
"I've got news," he states.
The room goes silent. My dad manages the nearly impossible task of getting half-a-dozen Donovan women to be quiet at the same time. From the look on his face though, I'm not worried that this is going to be more bad news. Despite still wearing a few days worth of scruff and a rumpled green sweater, Dad looks better than he has in weeks. More alert, more like himself.
"Oh would you just spill already!" Reece demands, shaking her head,the tension getting to be too much.
"I've been invited by Horton University to be a guest lecturer, teaching a class on the significance of literary classics in this current political climate."
Everyone starts congratulating him at once, myself included. This sounds like exactly what my dad needs. I can already see the effect it's having on him. It doesn't hurt that Horton is just outside of Richmond, not far from our old house. It's not the same school where he used to teach, but, it's somewhere familiar.
When the questions inevitably start, Dad jumps back in.
"Okay, here's the big part. The class runs through all of November. Four weeks."
My gaze darts to Mom as Dad continues to explain some of the logistics, looking for any hints about how she's feeling about all this. Her expression is guarded, but not surprised. Dad obviously talked to her about this beforehand, even if she doesn't look as thrilled about this as he does. I'm sure she can see how badly he needs something like this.
Aunt Grace, however, does look surprised. Hey, finally something that my sisters and I aren't the absolute last to know about.
"You're leaving so soon," she exclaims breathlessly.
"I know it's short notice with it being only a couple of weeks away, but the professor they had lined up had a family emergency. They'd seen my lecture from a few years ago on working nuances of the m
odern political landscape into works of fiction, and recommended me. It didn't hurt that I'd worked in the city before."
"Well congratulations!" Aunt Grace says, beaming.
She obviously means it. I have to wonder if inside she's a little hurt that she traveled across the Atlantic Ocean to stay with her brother, only for him to leave. I know Aunt Grace isn't like that. Besides, she's still going to be here when he gets back. After a month.
Wow. Okay. Yeah, a month is kind of a long time. I've never been away from either of my parents for that long before. It's hard to imagine our house without Dad in it. He's always here. He's the one that keeps things running smoothly.
We'll manage. I hope.
"Congratulations!" I say for what has to be the third time, wanting to make sure he knows I mean it.
After that, I'm in a long line of family waiting to give him a hug.
This is big. If it weren't for what's going on with Aunt Grace, it would be the biggest thing to happen to our family in a long time. It's good that it's happening for Dad. He gave up a lot so we could move here. I'm not sure if life in Fairview has really been what he imagined, but this is good.
Eventually, things settle down and we start to eat. I only take a few mouthfuls before grabbing my phone, and pulling it into my lap to send some quick messages off to Rosie. I'd told her that I wasn't going to let myself text anyone until I'd finished my college applications. Since that's technically done now, I can't wait a moment longer.
Reilly: Applications are a go. Ish. Still thinking over them. How was your day?
Rosie: Boring without you. I'm pretty sure hanging out with your girlfriend on the weekend should be mandatory.
Reilly: Next weekend, for sure. Also... I've got news!
Rosie: Good! What is it?
Reilly: Yup! My dad got a temporary teaching job, guest lecturer at a University back in Virginia.
Rosie: Oh, cool! Wait, he won't be able to commute that far, right? This is good news?
Reilly: It's only for a month. I guess they'll put him up in some kind of housing on campus. I don't actually know. He'll be gone for a few weeks, which is crazy.
Rosie: Well tell him congrats for me!
"Dad, Rosie says congratulations! Also, where are you going to live while you're gone?"
Dad chuckles. "Thank her for me, please. The school said it's all taken care of. I suppose I should get details; this has all just come together really quickly."
I nod and go back to my phone.
Reilly: He says thanks.
Before I can read Rosie's next response, Mom interrupts.
"Well, since you're clearly all already telling everyone the news, I suppose it makes sense to add one more thing into the mix."
A frown forms on my face, an expression I see mirrored on Reagan and Rhiannon. We're all getting a little burned out on news.
"Your grandparents have decided they're coming to visit for the holidays!"
"Grandma and Grandpa?" Reagan asks. "That's not really news."
"Not my parents, your dad's. They're going to fly over for a week and a half at the end of December. I've already talked to my mom, so she understands that she has to share us, especially since she's gotten basically all of the Christmases before this one."
"Oh, that's cool," I say, when the silence becomes a little overpowering. "It will be nice to see them."
All of my sisters muster up at least a bit of enthusiasm. Grannie and Grandad haven't really been pivotal figures in our lives so far, and mostly they feel like strangers.
"It will be so nice to have everyone together," Grace adds. "I don't think we've ever done that before."
Dad nods. "I think you're right. The one year they managed to make it here for the holidays, you were in... New Zealand, was it?"
"Bali, I think. I mean, you guys are great, but Bali."
We all laugh at that one. I guess it will be nice for Dad's parents to have their whole family in one place.
The question is, why now? One look at Aunt Grace answers my question.
I'm sure they miss her. That has to be part of it. It can't be easy having your daughter be so far away while she's sick. Especially for the holidays. Doubly especially if they don't know for sure that they'll get another Christmas with her.
All of the giddiness and adrenaline rushing through my body with all of the news calms at once, leaving me somber. I wish I hadn't gone there. I shouldn't have. Aunt Grace is doing fine. Good even, all things considered. There's nothing to worry about.
I should be enjoying all the good news. Things are about to get even more interesting around here. Which maybe isn't what I was hoping for, but it can still be a good thing.
It will be.
All of this insanity is only for a few more months. Once the new year hits, things will probably go back to normal, or as normal as they get around here. We'll all be able to go back to our regularly scheduled programming until graduation, when things get turned upside down all over again.
Okay, Reilly, stop.
I know what will make me feel better.
My phone is still waiting in my lap, a direct route to the one person I know will help calm me down, reminding me of just how lucky I am.
With Rosie, everything's always going to be okay.
A quick glance at my screen finds the last message she sent.
Rosie: Where'd you go? I am so bored right now.
Reilly: Sorry! My parents have decided to just keep piling stuff on. I have more news!
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The rest of October flies by in a blur of homework and Halloween parties. Halloween itself lands on a Tuesday, which ends up feeling somewhat anti-climactic by comparison. After two weeks of slowly trying to work on my friendship with Sarah, I've finally convinced her to come over after school and hang out for a while.
No Rosie. No sisters. Just us.
The house is even remarkably quiet. It’s probably because Dad's up in his room finishing up all of the packing that he'd meant to do a week ago. Molly has been following him around for days already, like she can sense that one of her humans is about to leave her.
Now, it's only Sarah and I in the kitchen, picking absently at a bunch of grapes that sits between us in a paper towel on the table. Rhiannon's in the dining room studying, and I haven't heard a peep from her in an hour. I half expect that if I look inside, I'll find her passed out on top of a textbook.
"If I don't hear from him by tonight, I'll probably cave and text him," Sarah says, finishing her story about her date from last weekend with a guy I remember her having a crush on last year.
"Text him now," I say, grinning. "You're dying to do it." I might be trying a little too hard to be supportive, but Sarah doesn't seem to mind.
"I don't want to come on too strong. Like, what if he thinks I'm desperate?"
"It's already been a few days. To me, it sounds like you both had an awesome time. Do it." I draw the sentence on for so long that it sounds a little ridiculous, causing Sarah to giggle.
She's wearing her glasses today. Her hair is tied up in a messy bun on top of her head, a few strands hanging loose around her face.
"You win," she squeaks.
I don't ask what it is she's typing, I know she'll ask for input if she wants it.I leave her to it, heading instead for the fridge to grab a couple more bottles of water. The appliance is packed tight, fuller than I've ever seen it. The water is in its usual spot. The whole thing looks like a few of the bottles could roll out onto the floor with only a nudge.
"Enough food there?" Sarah teases.
I close the door, bringing the water back to the table.
"I'm pretty sure my dad doesn't think we're capable of going to a grocery store without him. He's probably terrified to come home and find that all of us have starved to death."
"When does he leave?" Sarah asks, putting her phone down, leaving the screen facing upward.
"Tonight, after dinner. He's flying to Richmond rather than
driving again. The plane leaves around ten."
I've already filled her in on everything going on with my family, with me and with Rosie, always careful to make sure I'm listening more than I'm talking.
"I give it about ten minutes before the whole house falls down without him. Every time we try and figure out a game plan for covering all of the stuff he usually does, we start fighting. Supposedly, this is all going to be good practice for us living on our own, but no one is exactly jumping up and down ready to get to vacuuming and cooking." I make a face, feeling kind of bad for complaining.
My sisters and I have always been responsible for cleaning up our own rooms, and tidying up after ourselves everywhere else. Which admittedly, no one is all that great at. I'm not sure I even know where the mop is. Or if we have a mop.
"There are six of you still here, I'm sure you'll figure it out."
"Five. Things have been crazy for mom at work. Even though she keeps promising that she'll take over dinners, she's not even home by then half the time. She shouldn't have to worry about that too."
"Hey! So... I saw your sister's latest video...." Sarah says, abruptly changing the subject.
Talking about the Donovan chore schedule was probably about as fun for her as it was for me.
"Oh yeah, it's great eh?"
I told Sarah about Rhiannon's channel the first chance I got, and she subscribed right away.
"She actually managed to find a few statistics about multiples that I didn't know already. Like that one about Nigeria having the highest rate of identicals. Weird."
Sarah shakes her head. "Not Rhiannon's channel. Reece's."
The thunk of a textbook closing comes from the next room.
"Sorry, what?"
"Reece's channel. She posted a vlog yesterday about her makeup routine."
I tilt my head slightly, like I'm trying to pick up on a radio wave or signal coming from somewhere beyond. Something that will help put the pieces together on what exactly she's telling me here.
Reece has a channel.
"You didn't know?" Sarah asks, reading my expression.
"No. She didn't tell us. I guess it was supposed to be a surprise."
