by Marie, Tessa
Doctors should prescribe chocolate. It’s a miracle worker. Katie stares at me as I slowly eat the ice cream off my spoon. I’m going to tell her everything. I am. I’m just scared once I start talking the tears will flow again. I’m so sick of crying.
“So…” Katie prods and despite my efforts, the words and tears come tumbling out.
“It’ll be okay,” she says after my tearful word vomit. “He was upset. I’m sure he wasn’t thinking clearly. Just give him time to cool down.”
“I guess you’re right. It’s stupid to cry over a guy anyway.”
“No, it’s not. I’d be worried if you weren’t crying.”
I look up, confused and Katie laughs.
“I’d be worried because I know you’d be hurting on the inside and there would be nothing I could do. I’m happy you called me. I’m even happier you told me everything.”
“I never knew it could hurt this bad.”
“You love him, and love is the worst hurt of all.” Her eyes fall to her nails. The pink has been replaced by purple. I notice all these stupid little things like her nail polish, but I don’t even know if she’s been in love before. What kind of friend am I?
On numerous occasions she’s told me she has but, if I went by that, then I would have to account for every relationship she’s ever been in. Infatuation and love are two totally different things, and I don’t think she’s ever had anything other than infatuation.
I’ve always been envious of her, slightly jealous, yet no guy has loved her for her. All they want is a good time before they move on to the next “it” girl. As bad as it hurts, as much as I want to crawl up in a ball and cry until my tear ducts dry, I wouldn’t trade what I shared with Dean for anything.
I throw my arm around Katie’s shoulder. We don’t need guys to love us. We love each other, and right now that’s all that matters. She smiles up at me, and I take my spoon and smear rocky road across her nose.
“Bitch!” she screams through her laughter. “You better run.” So I do. We spend the next twenty minutes chasing each other around my kitchen armed with spoons of ice cream. It was exactly what I had in mind when I called her.
You can only laugh so much though. There comes a point when the laughter dies, and you are left with your mind. Katie sprawls out on the couch, hugging a pillow. I’m on the floor, my head resting against the cushions, and my mind completely consumed with Dean.
His voice, his eyes, his hair, his arms, it’s all I can think about. I haven’t even thought about my school work since I left the library.
“What the hell? Anna!”
Mom? She isn’t supposed to be home until tomorrow. I look at Katie and we jump up.
“Hi, Mrs. Hayward.” Katie puts extra perk in her tone.
“Uh hey Mom. What are you doing home?”
“I live here. Now can someone please explain why there is chocolate ice cream all over the counter and floors?”
“I was going to clean it.”
“When? After it liquefied and became a sticky mess on my wood floors?”
Her comment makes me want to scream. She’s not even supposed to be here. I always clean the house. I clean up after myself, and after her, and she has the nerve to come home after being MIA for days and get mad at me?
“That’s exactly what I was waiting for.” I roll my eyes and push past her. I grab a rag from the sink and get on my hands and knees.
“What’s with the attitude? I thought we were past this.”
“Yeah, I did too.”
“Look, cut me some slack, I’m trying here. I cut my trip short so I could spend some time with you.”
I thought I was cried out, but as soon as the words leave Mom’s mouth I the rims of my eyes swell.
“Well, Mrs. H, you came home at a great time. We were thinking pizza, girl talk, and chick flicks.”
“Sounds perfect.”
“I’ll call for the pizza,” Katie excuses herself, and I’m left with Mom.
I keep my attention on the globs of ice cream, too afraid to look up. So much has happened in the past month and she has no idea. She doesn’t know I got a C. She doesn’t know about tutoring or what happened with Michelle at the soup kitchen. And she doesn’t know about Dean other than the lie I told her.
“Anna, I’m sorry.”
I tear my eyes away from the globs of runny brown and turn to my mom who’s sitting on the floor beside me.
“I haven’t exactly been around, but I honestly didn’t think you cared if I was or not. Even when I tried, you always insisted on doing things yourself. You are so much like him.” Tears fill her eyes and damn it now I’m crying again too. Hot trails of tears mark my cheeks.
“I am?”
“You are.” I never took a second to put it into perspective. Dad’s death aside, Dean shutting me out of his life is the worst pain I’ve ever known. Mom didn’t even get to see my father before she was shut out of his life.
One day he was there and the next he wasn’t. They had been together since freshman year of college. No wonder she throws herself into her work. She’s trying to avoid the pain. Fill the hole.
Katie’s right, love is the worst hurt of all.
“If anything, I pushed you away. It’s my fault,” I say, still too afraid to look up at her.
“No, Anna, it’s not. I’m your mother, I should’ve handled things differently. She forces a smile before continuing. “Can we just agree to try harder?”
“I can do that.” She smiles a real smile this time, and I swear I haven’t seen that smile in years. It makes the corner of my lips pull until I’m smiling too.
“Good. Me too.” She takes the rag from my hand and stands. “Now are you going to explain how my kitchen got redecorated with ice cream?”
I grab the spoon out of the ice cream container and smear the spoon down Mom’s cheek.
My hand flies to my lips as Mom’s eyes widen, but then she runs her finger down her face, scooping up the stream of chocolate running down her cheek, and places her finger in her mouth.
“Mmm Moose Tracks?” Then she pulls me into a hug and dumps the cartoon of melted ice cream on my head.
While one door in my life slammed shut, another opened. Hopefully it stays open because I don’t think I can take Mom being MIA anymore.
I leave Katie downstairs with Mom while I shower, washing out all the ice cream from my hair.
I dry off and head into my room and right to my computer. I turn it on and check my friend list. Scrolling down the names I finally come to the one I’m looking for. Seth.
Hey I type and wait for his response.
Hey BS what’s up?
Mom came home early from one of her trips. She apologized for being MIA and even told me I remind her of dad.
No shit…
She said she wants for us to start over.
I wait. No response.
With fingers shaking I type I’m scared.
Don’t be. So simple yet, exactly what I need.
Thanksgiving’s going to be here before we know it.
No response.
Seth, don’t you think it’s time to come home?
No response.
I miss you. I could use my big brother right now.
Hey, I got to go. Roommate needs to use the computer. I miss you too BS.
I don’t know what I was expecting him to say. He, like Mom, took off. The only difference is he’s never come back. I’m going to waste my entire life waiting for something that’s probably never going to happen. I need to move forward.
With a vengeance I turn away from my computer and march over to my ballerina slipper covered wall. The wall paper started to peel in the corner a few years back so I taped it into place. Defiantly, I peel the tape away, and hold in my fingers the corner of the paper. Visions of Dad run through my mind. He had such a hard time putting this paper up. I tried to help him, but I just got in the way. He never said I did but I could tell by the way he rubbed his forehead wi
th the back of his hand. He was determined though and when he finished the smile on his face was epic.
Maybe it is time for a change. Maybe it is time to leave the past in the past.
But what’s one more day?
No.
It’s time to move forward.
I close my eyes, take a deep breath and pull down the paper, paving the way for a clean slate.
After dinner last night, Izzy let me use her computer. I logged into Facebook and continued the search for my sister. I looked until my eyes started to cross. I only had a few pages left but I couldn’t continue. The last thing I want is to skip over her picture because I can’t focus.
Izzy is going with her friends to the mall so she told me I can try again when she’s gone. In the meantime, I read through a book on Ancient Rome. I liked this one because of the picture of the Coliseum on the cover. To think something so massive was built without the technology we have today, and is still standing, fascinates me.
I’m trying not to think of Anna, but even a stupid book has my thoughts drifting to her. If the Romans could build something from nothing, why can’t I? Am I really that hopeless? For a second I thought I could make something of myself, get off the street and be the type of guy Anna deserves, but I get knocked down and I let it all slip away. Just like that.
“Dean, I’m leaving!” Izzy calls out through the guestroom door.
“Thanks.”
“Now don’t go snooping through my stuff!”
“Wasn’t planning on it,” I say as the front door slams shut.
Izzy’s room is exactly what I would expect it to look like. Every inch of her walls is covered with Hollywood teeny boppers and everything is pink and purple and fluffy. It literally looks like a unicorn threw up in here.
Even her computer screen has a pink fluffy cover. I’ve heard of steering wheel covers but a computer cover? Whatever, it’s a computer, and that’s all that matters. I sit in the hot pink computer chair and wiggle the mouse to stop the Justin Bieber slideshow, which thanks to Izzy, I now can say I know who he is. She thinks my life is now complete. It almost was, since I wanted to shoot myself halfway through the second song.
Last night I only had a few pages left so I type in Josie and resume my search on the last page. It’s easier than starting over from the beginning. The first page is a dud, unless my sister aged twenty years and changed her ethnic background.
The second page isn’t much better. One picture catches my eye, but after a closer look there’s no way she’s my sister. Granted, I haven’t seen her in years, but I think I would know my own sister when I see her.
My hope dwindles. But could I legitimately imagine, after all this time of searching, it would be as simple as making a Facebook account to find her?
Then, as I click onto the fourth page.
My heart stops.
Everything stops.
Staring back at me is my family. My mom, my dad, me, and Josie. It’s the picture I carry around with me, except we’re not all staring at the camera. We’re looking at each other, laughing.
I remember the moment. The photographer asked Dad to sit beside Mom and when he did, his pants split right up the back. We were all laughing so hard it took twenty minutes for us to let the red in our cheeks fade and regain our composure. Poor Dad had to finish the photo shoot with a huge rip in the back of his pants.
I had forgotten about that until now.
A laugh slips out and it feels good. Almost refreshing. I click on the picture. Of course the profile is private. I’m glad it is. She’s only twelve, and I hope wherever she is they care enough about her to keep her safe.
My eyes roam the page, and I find a link where I can send a message. Without even a second thought, I click on it. A box pops up. What do I write?
Anna would know what to say. My eyes burn, but I violently push it away with my palms then wince at the pain. Shit. I keep forgetting about my face.
My fingers nervously tap the keys. I’m not typing anything, just tapping. Think Dean. Think.
Hey, I write, then quickly delete. Hello. No that makes me sound like an ass. This has to be her. I should be jumping up and down. I should write anything. Something. I can’t. What if she’s happy? What if she was adopted by a good family? Has a good life. The last thing she’d need is a deadbeat brother showing up.
What if she doesn’t remember me at all?
My eyes focus on the picture again. Josie is looking at me, her mouth open in mid-laugh, that stupid seal in her grasp. She’s my sister. No matter how much time has passed it doesn’t change anything. She’s my sister and if she has this picture up, there’s a reason for it. Maybe I’m not the only one who’s been searching. Maybe she’s been looking for me too.
Hi, my name’s Dean and I lost my sister several years ago but after seeing your profile picture I have a feeling I found her. Josie, if this is you, God I hope it is you, you need to know I have been looking for you for years. I should never have let us get separated and I have regretted it every day since. Please, if this is her I just need to know you’re okay. I pray you are okay.
Dean Lando
It’s wordy and desperate, but I don’t care. I hit send before I can give myself a chance to rethink After all these years of desperately searching it could all come down to this one message.
My first thought is to call Anna. Tell her I possibly have found my sister, but the minute I shut the door in her face, I shut her out of my life. I’m beginning to think that was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.
Something good finally happens to me, and what do I do? I fuck it up.
Lying here, staring at the ceiling is making me think too much. My mind is a dangerous place right now, and I need to keep it focused on anything, but my life, my future and Anna.
In the kitchen I rummage through the cabinets. Nothing is catching my attention and I laugh. I’m homeless, and now I’m being picky about what I eat. This is what I mean when I told Anna about getting too comfortable. Once I’m better, once I can walk without flinching in pain I’m back on the street.
A Ziplock bag filled with bagels grabs my attention. As soon as I see a cinnamon raisin my indecisiveness is no longer. In the fridge I find cream cheese, and seconds later my taste buds are in heaven.
The phone on the wall taunts me. Seven simple pushes on seven small buttons and I could be talking to Anna. I can apologize, tell her I was wrong and it does matter what she thinks.
Seven simple pushes.
Seven small buttons.
Instead, I shove the rest of the bagel in my mouth. I don’t know what’s keeping me from calling her. I don’t know if its fear of the unknown or if it’s just me feeling sorry for myself. A little bit of both probably, and even a touch of embarrassment. I just can’t call her. I can’t bring myself to do it.
I go to Izzy’s room and log back on Facebook. It’s been a few hours since I sent the message. Even if my mind kept drifting back to Anna, at least it kept me from dwelling on the picture. I don’t want to get my hopes up, but it has to be her. There is no other logical explanation for finding a picture of me and my family on Facebook.
Once logged on, I immediately look to my messages. Nothing. Under my friends list Anna’s picture catches my eye. It’s hard to miss her. She’s my only friend. God she’s beautiful. I’m not even safe on Facebook.
I’m about to log off when a number one pops up next to my messages. I stare at it. It could be an answer I’ve been searching for the past few years, or it could be Anna. Either way I’m terrified.
It takes all I have to swallow my fear and click on my messages. With my heart racing, my hand shaking, and my eyes burning I see my family picture. All I have to do is open this message and from there I will find out if the search is over. If I finally found my sister.
You’d think I would jump on it. What if it is Josie? And what if she hates me for letting her get taken away? What if she wants nothing to do with me? God, I wish Anna was here. I
need her. She would talk me through this.
I’ve been independent for years and there’s no reason why I can’t do this by myself. I position the mouse over the message, close my eyes, and click.
With a deep breath, I slowly open my eyes.
Dean is it really you? I never thought I’d hear from you again. I put our picture up hoping you’d find me and you did. I can’t believe you did. Where are you? How are you? I miss you sooooo much! Please call me. My number is 631-555-0198. I’ve been waiting to talk to you for seven years. I love you. Josie :)
I read the message over and over. For seven years my life has revolved around finding my sister. I can’t believe it. I found her. And it’s all thanks to Anna. I owe her more than she will ever know.
After reading the message one last time, I walk in the kitchen and grab the phone that’s been taunting me all day. So much time has passed. I wonder if she’ll sound the same.
I smile thinking of the area code. We’re in the same county.
Seven simple pushes.
Seven small buttons.
I can’t dial them fast enough.
The phone rings and my chest tightens, my throat closes, but once I hear her voice the tightness loosens, my throat opens up.
“Josie? Hi, it’s Dean, your brother.”
It’s been a week since Dean slammed Marv’s front door in my face. I’ve resisted the urge to go back there, and I haven’t even been to The Bagel Hole to get my cinnamon raisin bagel. If he doesn’t want to see me, then I definitely don’t want to see him.
I’ve thrown myself into my schoolwork and volunteering. This week alone, on top of my time at the soup kitchen, I’ve read at the local children’s hospital, spent time visiting with the residents of the McAllister Adult Home, and helped plant a garden at the town park.
All my college applications are filled out, essays written and have all been sent. I’ve caught up on my schoolwork including an extra credit assignment I persuaded Mr. Wilson to give me in order to compensate for my C.
