Up in my room I dig out some more photo albums. There are some more that were a bit more recent than the others. The date on the front of this one said 1998.
I didn’t have any pictures in this one.
There was a picture of Mom hugging a cute little blonde girl tightly, their cheeks pressing together. It was Riley, I could tell. They looked so happy in the picture. In the background there was a bunch of tables and a banner that said HAPPY BIRTHDAY. Riley had a shiny pink and green party hat on her head, with strings coming out the top and lining the bottom edge.
The next few pictures were of Riley and a few friends. There was one of a girl in a blind fold swinging a bat around with a piniata hanging from a large tree branch. A few other ones were taken inside this house in the den, the girls sitting on the couch, the girls playing Twister, the girls doing this, the girls doing that. There was one of the girls all spread out on the floor in sleeping bags, sprawled out with someone’s foot in someone’s face or an arm on someone’s leg.
Mom wrote RILEY’S FIRST SLEEPOVER on the side of that page. 10 YEARS, it said below that. Her tenth birthday.
I think back. I would’ve been five. I would’ve been starting kindergarten, maybe. While I was starting kindergarten, my sister was here living the dream, having her first real slumber party, turning ten years old, and I didn’t even know it. I suppose I could’ve remembered her from when I was three, but I didn’t. The chances of that were slim, obviously.
The next few pages, there were a couple pictures of Mom sitting around looking depressed. I don’t know who took the pictures. Normally, I would’ve assumed it was Riley, but the pictures were so good and clean, almost like an illusion, in a way, that I doubt a ten-year-old took them. There was one of Mom sitting on the couch reading. One of Mom in bed, asleep, peacefully, probably taking a nap because it wasn’t dark at all and the bed was made beneath her. Another was of Mom sitting on some steps to the backyard. It was of the back of her. She’s leaning forward a little, probably holding a cup of coffee, it seemed like. Strands of her hair (which was pulled into a low bun) flew in the wind, and you can see a couple of leaves on the trees in the backyard swaying in the wind, too. She had on a tinted blue long-sleeve shirt and white pants. She looked small in the picture, which was taken so that Mom would be the focus of the picture. It was really good. Too good.
Obviously Riley hadn’t taken these pictures.
The next few days are pretty rough. I don’t talk to Riley or Mom much. Brielle keeps her distance, too. It’s like they think if they get too close to me, something will go off, and I’ll just explode. It’s sort of weird that they think that, because I’m not explosive anymore. I mean, not as much as I was when Becky was here, but things have gotten better.
She left that night. Mom had asked her to leave, along with everyone else. And naturally Riley just took her family home, sensing that this was a bad time to be visiting. So they went home. So it’s just us again. Me, Brielle, and Mom.
Talk about awkward.
Sun shines in my face. I squint my eyes open, trying to see, quickly realizing it’s impossible unless I move. So I sit up just enough for the sun to no longer be an issue and see Mom standing there with the curtains drawn. She’s watching me.
“What...are you doing?” I ask slowly. She lets go of the curtains. I hope they’ll close again, but they don’t.
“We’re going to the beach today. Get up.” She says calmly.
“The beach? But it’s...” I glance at the clock, look away, and quickly look back. Is that really the time? Noon?
“Time for you to get out of bed. Come on. We’re going to a diner a couple blocks away, then we’re heading to the beach. Riley’s bringing Jodie, Justin and Jamie. You and your sister get to occupy them.” She leaves the room. Are we really going to the beach today? Seriously?
It’s amazing how I’ve already grown into the house. It hasn’t been a week yet, no, but five days is pretty close. It’s also a long time, if you think about the circumstances. Already five days. Crazy. It feel likes only five hours.
I slide on some jean shorts and a tank top over my new swim suit, a navy blue two-piece. I pull my hair up into a messy bun. If we’re going to the beach, it’s obviously going to be hot out. Because it hasn’t been that warm out lately (decent weather, but not that warm), and we haven’t gone to the beach yet. Plus the little ones are going, too. That tells me something.
Downstairs, Mom and Brielle are both already sitting in the living room, on separate pieces of furniture of course, waiting for me to get ready. I check my reflection in the hallway mirror before walking to the front door.
“Coming?” I ask. They both look up, sigh, and get up.
There’s a lime green convertible sitting in the driveway that I do not recognize at all. It’s so new that there might as well have been a giant red bow tied around it, ready to be given away. It’s shiny and clean, basically sparkling. The interior is white leather with a back seat. The wheels are...
“You like?” Mom asks, walking over to the driver’s side and reaching inside it. I nod, speechless. She grins at me. “Good, because it’s yours.” She pulls out keys and tosses them to me. I have to react quicker than I should have, because I was still shocked and in awe of the car. I stare at the keys as if they’re some alien device I have no idea how to work. “Better take care of it, because this is the only one you’re getting. Ever.” She walks around and pulls forward the passenger seat, climbing into the back. Brielle squeals as she runs over and hops happily into the passenger side. I walk over and sit in the driver’s seat. It’s so comfortable, so right...
I can’t help but squeal, too.
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