Authors: Lori L. Otto
Tags: #Romance, #Love, #death, #Family, #Sex, #young love, #teen, #girlfriend, #boyfriend, #first love
Even though it’s mid-morning, I enter the apartment
quietly. Max is asleep on the couch. On a typical summer day, he
would be out playing with friends by now. Our bedroom door is
closed, as is Mom’s door. After setting my things down, I sit next
to my youngest brother, patting his leg to wake him up.
He
smells
like he’s been
outside playing.
“
Buddy?”
“
Jon!” he exclaims, throwing off
the sheet and embracing me tightly.
“
Hey, Max, how are you?”
“
I was scared,” he says through a
yawn. He wipes his eyes with the backs of his hands.
“
Scared? Of what?”
“
I heard noises last
night.”
“
What kind of noises?”
“
Scary noises,” he answers
vaguely.
“
From where?”
“
The hallway.”
“
So you decided to sleep out
here?”
“
I wanted to protect
Mommy.”
“
Well it doesn’t sound like you
were scared, little guy. It sounds like you were very brave.” He
nods sleepily. “Is Will in bed?”
“
Yeah,” he says weakly.
“
He didn’t help you guard the
apartment.”
“
He said, ‘screw Mommy.’” I can’t
even count how many times I’d thought the same sentiment, but I was
careful to never say anything around my brothers. I’m mad that Will
would say it to Max.
“
Did Mom help you shower last
night?”
“
She said I didn’t have
to.”
“
Did she?”
“
She was in a hurry to
leave.”
“
For work?”
“
No. She said she had a
date.”
“
A date? Did you see the
man?”
“
Nope.” I guess I can be thankful
she didn’t bring her current loser to the apartment with my
brothers here.
“
What time did she get
home?”
“
I dunno.”
“
You didn’t hear her?”
“
Nope.”
“
Listen, why don’t you go get some
fresh clothes and get cleaned up?”
“
I don’t wanna.”
“
I just got home, buddy, and you’re
already gonna pick a fight with me?” He giggles a little and nods
his head, but changes his tune when I squint my eyes at him
playfully.
“
Okay.” He hops off the couch and
bursts into our room. I hear Will yelling at him seconds later for
waking him up. I check the clock across the room, wondering if the
time on my phone is right or not. It’s eleven in the morning. These
boys should not be sleeping in this late.
Although I’m certain I won’t find my mother there, I
knock on her door before entering her bedroom. It’s trashed, with
empty beer cans and piles of clothes littering the floor. It looks
like she was sorting to do laundry, but didn’t quite make it to the
basement to wash the clothes.
I hate her for leaving them alone all night. I’d
hoped she wouldn’t be home now, but she should have never left them
alone all night. I’d asked her to find someone to watch them in my
absence for the week that I was gone. I have all summer to
transform my 14-year-old brother into a responsible adult. When I
move out for college, someone has to keep an eye on Max, and I know
I can’t count on my mother to do it.
“
Jon?” Max asks from the doorway to
Mom’s room.
“
Yeah?”
“
Where’d Mom go?”
“
She left a note. She didn’t want
to wake you this morning, but it looks like she had to work early
today.”
“
Liar,” Will says in passing on his
way to the kitchen. I blow off his remark and usher my youngest
brother back into the living room.
“
What’d you need, Max?”
“
I don’t have any clean
underwear.”
“
Do you have your swim
trunks?”
“
Are we going to the pool?” He’s so
excited, and I can tell he thinks this is just a special treat on
an otherwise normal summer day. He has no clue that his mother’s an
irresponsible drunk, that it’s not normal for kids to not have
clean clothes to put on, and that I’ve been holding in a river of
tears for the past twelve hours for a woman I truly respected and
cared for – just to appear strong for my girlfriend. Fortunately,
anger is replacing the exhaustion I had been feeling, so watching
him at the pool shouldn’t be a problem.
“
We’ll go once you shower,” I
bargain with him. There’s no telling how long he’s gone without
one. “Will, are you coming?”
“
Yeah,” he says, eating a piece of
bread with jam on it. “I thought you weren’t coming back for a few
more days.”
“
We had to come back early,” I tell
him. He stops and waits for me to say more. “Donna passed away
yesterday.”
I fight against the swelling emotions, but after my
brother shoves the last bite of food into his mouth, he wipes his
hand on his shirt before pulling me into a hug. “I’m sorry,” he
whispers as his hands pat my back.
I’m caught off guard by his empathy, and for
possibly the first time in his life, I’m truly impressed at this
show of maturity. Now I’m not sure if the tears are mournful ones
shed for Donna, or prideful ones for my brother.
Maybe transforming him into a responsible adult
won’t be such a challenge after all.
LIVVY
I’ve never felt so sad.
I never thought anything could feel worse than when
Jon broke up with me a few months ago. With that, as hopeless as it
felt, there was still a tiny bit of hope of being with him
again.
With Granna, there’s no hope. She’s just gone, and
I’ll never see her again.
“
We’re almost home, Tessa,” Dad
says, rubbing my arm. Matty squeezes the hand he’s been holding
since we dropped Jon off. I wipe my nose on the sleeve of my shirt,
having run out of tissues hours ago. “Your mom is anxious to see
you.”
“
I can’t wait to see her,” I barely
manage to choke out. Thinking of her dealing with Granna’s death
makes me cry even harder. I didn’t think it was
possible.
“
Livvy, try to think about
something else,” my uncle suggests. I glare at him.
“
I want to honor her,” I say in
defense of my behavior. “She deserves that, doesn’t
she?”
“
Of course, Little Liv, but you’re
going to make yourself sick if you keep this up.”
“
I don’t care,” I tell him. “I’ll
cry if I want to. And right now, I can’t think of any other way to
be, or any other thing to do. Okay?”
“
Okay,” he says, biting back any
further comments. “I’m just trying to help, sweetie. I’m sorry.
It’s hard to see you like this, that’s all.” When he starts to pull
his hand away, I hold it tighter and squirm away from my dad. Matty
holds me hard against his chest. “Let it out,” he
whispers.
I do.
Mom comes outside the second the car pulls up in
front of our house. She kisses Dad, holding him close. The skin
around her eyes is pronounced, red and puffy. When she looks up at
me, the tears drop quickly.
“
I’m so sorry I wasn’t there with
you, Liv,” she says.
“
I love you, Mom,” I tell her in
return. “I love you so much.”
“
I love you, too.” She pulls away
from me, holding me at shoulders-length. “I want you to always know
that. Always remember that. It doesn’t matter if we fight, if we’re
mad, if I’m disappointed in you, if we don’t see each other for a
span of time… nothing can keep me from loving you with all my
heart, okay?”
“
Stop, Mom, please,” I beg her, not
wanting to think of her mad, disappointed, or…
gone
.
“
I should have been with you in
Greece,” she whispers in my ear. “I should have been there for
you.”
“
Mom, I’m fine.”
“
I just feel bad that you were
alone.”
“
I wasn’t alone, Mom. Jon was
there, and Matty. And Dad was there soon after. I had lots of
support, okay? But I’m glad to be home and with you.”
“
I’m happy we’re all here, safe and
sound.”
“
How’s Trey?” I ask. I can’t
imagine what a ten-hour flight with our mother, crying, would have
been like. He must be scared out of his mind.
“
He’s okay. Kelly was reading him a
book.”
“
Was he upset on the
plane?”
“
No, he slept. I held it together
for him,” she says. “But once I got home, I let it all out.” She
looks at my dad and uncle. “You’re sister’s a godsend.”
“
I’m glad she was there for you,
Poppet,” Dad says, pulling her into another embrace. In the same
swift movement, they both pull me into their hug. “Let’s get
inside.” I reach into the car to get my purse, and it’s only then
that I notice photographers across the street. They’re keeping a
respectable distance, but still totally encroaching on our private
moments. Dad puts his hand on my back, turning me away from them
and toward the entrance.
Trey bypasses me in favor of Dad when we come in the
house. I go downstairs to put my things away and freshen up. I stop
when I get to my room, seeing the shopping bag on my bed. It’s from
my favorite art store. The day before I left for London, they’d had
a private shopping event with some new paints. I bought some for
the project I’d been working on in the weeks since school let out.
And by weeks, I mean I’d worked on it for about four hours total
since summer break began.
I am so sorry, Granna.
She’d hired me to do her portrait. She wanted
something to accompany the one I had done of her son last year.
Even though I told her I didn’t want her to pay me, she gave me a
painting of Nate’s from the gallery. It hangs prominently in my
room, but her portrait is nowhere to be found.
Mom and I had gone to the newly-purchased loft for a
few hours on the weekends, and I’d set up a makeshift studio in the
spare bedroom. I thought I’d have an easy time painting there, but
I was constantly distracted by the view, and the park… and my
boyfriend.
Who am I kidding? Jon is the reason I didn’t paint
more before we left. After his graduation, the newfound freedom
reinvigorated his plans for the future. Plans for school, plans for
a career, and plans with me. He was excited about Columbia, about
the things he was going to learn, and he wanted to share every
moment with me.
I wanted the same. Every moment, I wanted him, and
nothing else. I’ve been selfish.
“
Liv,” my dad says from the doorway
to my room, “I could go get your canvas–”
“
No,” I interrupt him quickly. I
can’t see that portrait right now, even if I’d barely begun. Any
single feature would remind me of the woman I looked up to and
admired. To see her eyes gazing into mine, disappointed at the
choices I’ve made – I can’t. “I don’t feel like painting
today.”
After two days surrounded by my extended family, I
excuse myself from the movie in the media room and slip into my
bedroom, shutting the door behind me. Expecting my parents to
follow me, I wait for a couple of minutes by the door, ready to
assure them that I’m okay.
When they don’t come, I sit on the floor of the
studio side of my room, my back against the wall and my knees
tucked into my body. Staring at the blank canvas opposite me, I try
to envision the art that should adorn it.
I see white. That’s all I see. I see the rough
material of the canvas, and white. As soon as I see something else
– a color, a shape, a person – I feel empty in the pit of
my stomach. Glaring at the prepped canvas, I see feelings that I
don’t want to face.
Suddenly, being alone isn’t what I want. I hurriedly
cram all of my paint supplies into a storage closet and turn the
offensive non-painting around to face the wall. I even push my two
favorite easels to the far side of the room. When I turn around, it
looks empty. It looks exactly like I feel. My heart starts to beat
faster. I feel panic. I feel lost.
Everyone who was watching the movie turns abruptly
at the sudden motion of my door opening. I smile briefly, not
making a big deal out of it, but I feel like I can breathe again as
comforting faces smile back at me. I pick up my phone and sit down
on my bed, calling Jon quietly so I don’t disturb the showing in
the adjacent room.
“
What’s up, baby? Are you
okay?”
“
I’m here,” I say.
“
Where?”
“
Home. Where are you?”
“
I was just about to leave the
apartment.”
“
Are you coming over?”
“
Liv, you told me you’d be busy
with your family all week. I decided to go back to work. I had to
get my mind off things, somehow.”
“
When will you be off?”
“
Friday. I’ll be at the
funeral.”
“
I meant today.”
“
Oh. Not until late, Olivia. I’m
working on some drafts for the firm. They’re easier to do at night,
when the office is quiet.”
The panic returns. “When will I ever get to see
you?” I say, my voice elevated.
“
It’s just for this week, I
promise. My boss said he’ll work around my schedule. As long as the
work gets done, he doesn’t care when I work. But since you were
busy, I wanted to stay busy, too.”