Be My Forever

Chapter 7

My parents’ house loomed over me like a dark cloud, and it wasn’t even that high. And yet, it felt as if I were going to climb Mount Everest without the necessary equipment to do so. Oh, fuck me. I entered the house and put my backpack and small luggage near the staircase. The house still smelled like it did in my memories: wooden furniture and polished floors. I waited for the olfactory recognition to awaken some nostalgia. Nothing came. The door from the kitchen opened, and Eleanor ran towards me. My sister crashed into me, and I hugged her back.

“Evy! You’re early.”

My parents appeared in the hall too. I could almost touch the awkwardness that floated in the air.

“Hello,” I tried, a polite smile plastered on my face.

Mom gave me a quick hug, and Dad gave me a peck on the cheek. When they were done, I took a step towards Eleanor. If she saw the awkwardness, she pretended like it wasn’t there, and pulled me inside the kitchen. There were a lot of ingredients and spices strewn on the counter. I whistled at the sight.

“My my, are you cooking?” I asked, impressed.

“I am. I’ve been trying out a few recipes so I could impress you during your next visit. Plus, that way, we can avoid Mom’s cooking,” she added conspiratorially.

I let out a quiet laugh. My mom was not a bad cook. She just had the bad habit of overusing butter, heavy cream, and oil, which made the food heavy. The amount of fat always gave Eleanor the jeebbies. My sister had come a long way, but my mom’s cooking was still a step too far, so Eleanor had learned how to cook a few things herself. I felt pride bloom in my chest as I looked at her preparing a white chili.

“This has been my favourite dish for the last few months,” she told me as she cut some bell peppers into tiny cubes. “Beans are so versatile.”

“They are,” I agreed. “And they are packed with fibres and protein.”

“Beans are life.”

My sister and I kept chatting and laughing as I helped her cook. Even though I had to admit that she had the same tendency as I had: being bossy and not enjoying having someone else roaming in our kitchen while we were cooking.

The most awkward part was once we were all seated at the kitchen table for supper. There was silence save for the sound of cutlery scraping against the plates.

“How is school?” asked my father.

It was his way of doing small talk, so I had to give him some points for trying. The problem was this: I had been at the top of my class since I entered secondary school, so there weren’t many options I could choose from.

“Good. I’m still nailing it.”

Eleanor wiggled her brows, then cocked her head towards Dad as if to say “Come on, say something more”. I sighed internally, sipped my water, and took a deep breath.

“I am excited to finish the semester. We have to do an internship in a dietician’s practice after our exams.”

“Oh, that is wonderful!” my mother said.

I nodded before shoving some food in my mouth. This time, when my sister looked at me, I shook my head ever so slightly. I sucked at small talk. Eleanor had always been the chattier one of us. Though I didn’t like pity on a regular day, I enjoyed the fact that she took pity on me now and talked with our parents in my stead.

When supper was over, Eleanor and I cleaned the table.

“Let’s see a movie tonight?” she suggested.

“Sure.”

Even though I had told her I would be just fine, Eleanor grabbed my backpack and we went upstairs. We passed the wall full of pictures, and I halted. Many of those pictures had been there for as long as I could remember. A house where the last picture of me dated from when I was twelve. There were newer ones of Eleanor, who still lived here. I, on the other hand, had changed my address as fast as I could to have a clean start. It felt weird to look at those memories now. They felt so distant, as if they weren’t really my own anymore.

“Evy, are you okay?”

Eleanor’s voice got me out of my head.

“Yes. I’m fine.”

We both nestled on my sister’s bed. Her room was still so very her. The walls were still lilac, and her room smelled like monoi. As a kid, I was always so happy when Eleanor let me inside her room to watch a movie with her or even be allowed to sit in her room. When I was younger, I thought my sister was so cool, and the fact that I could spend the evening with her made me feel rather awesome as well. I slipped under her soft comforter, and Eleanor gave me a hug.

“I’m so glad you’re home.”

I couldn’t trample her happy bubble; I couldn’t tell her this wasn’t my home anymore. So instead, I hugged her back and enjoyed the evening we had together.

***

Eleanor dropped two fake sugars in her coffee before taking a huge bite of her breakfast: a toast loaded with avocado, cottage cheese, herbs, and a royal amount of sriracha sauce. I watched her take it all in. She let her cat-like eyes fall on me. I grinned at her.

“You're cringing.”

My sister could read me like an open book. My smile became genuine.

“I guess I am.”

She let out a sigh. Her nails clicked against the white mug. “Fine, what am I doing wrong this time?”

Unlike with Jasmine, I had spared El most of my knowledge about food. But if she was asking, how could I refuse?

“You're putting fake sugars in your coffee.”

“So? It’s fewer calories than real sugar. And this way, I can drink my coffee without feeling guilty.”

She took another bite of her toast and hummed from contentment.

“I love that you enjoy eating again, but you should not count calories. Your two avocado toasts are almost as much as a cheeseburger from McDonalds. They are nutritious, yes, but they also contain lots of calories.”

Her face blanched, but before I could continue explaining anything, my mom intervened.

“Evelyn!” She tutted. “Don’t try to scare your sister. She’s eating well, and she’s healthy.”

I didn’t even try to hide the scowl on my face. Mom’s eyebrows shot up at my displeased face. Here she was again, trying too hard to now be the mother she should’ve been years ago. Next time I’d have to time how long it would take her before getting her feathers all ruffled up because I spoke to my sister.

“I never said that she was doing something unhealthy. What I am trying to explain here is that she shouldn’t look at the calories because they don’t tell the whole truth about what you eat.”

As if she could sense my mood shifting, Eleanor put a hand on my arm. “Alright, I'll keep that in mind.”

I stared at my bowl of cereal; I had barely touched half of it. Now just the idea of eating the rest made my stomach feel leaden. I pushed it away.

“Lost your appetite?” Mom asked in a teasing tone.

It was meant as a joke, yet I nodded. Like I would be able to joke with her after her useless remark.

“Indeed. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to study. I wouldn’t want to scare my patients away by being unprofessional.”

“Why is she always so defensive?” Mom asked as I left the kitchen.

If that was how family breakfasts were going to be, perhaps I shouldn’t do those anymore. This was such a waste of time and energy. It often went like this: Mom would build an invisible wall around Eleanor, wrap her in an emotional blanket, and if anyone dared say anything she didn’t like, she thought Eleanor would break. It made most people feel like assholes, and sometimes I wondered if my sister felt like Mom was keeping her from toughening up. Eleanor was twenty-three. She was a strong woman. Still, Mom saw her as if she were made of glass.

Back in my room, I let myself fall on the bed. How much longer before I could go back home? I glanced at my phone. It was barely 10 AM, and yet it felt like I had been here for ages. This weekend felt like forever. My phone buzzed.

Jasminnie: So, how’s it going?

Oh, how I missed her. Was she at home with Theo? Or was she with her parents? If only I could teleport and get back to Jasmine and her bubbly personality.

Evy: Regretting all my life choices...

Jasminnie: Want me to send you some memes?

Evy: Please do. I don’t know how else I’ll survive

A second later, a picture of a sad cat munching on salad popped on my screen. I giggled as Jasmine kept sending memes to get me through the day. A knock on the door made me jolt, and Eleanor entered. She assessed me for a second before plopping down on the bed.

“You're in a better mood than I feared,” she said slowly.

I was used to people seeing me as a grump. It was a reputation I had made for myself, unwillingly of course, but still. The fact that my own mother saw me as nothing more than a grump, or that she couldn’t understand the reason I had become grumpy in the first place, was proof enough that there was nothing for me here.

“I want to go home,” I answered quietly.

“Evy, this is your home.”

I shook my head. I couldn’t lie to Eleanor.

“No, my apartment is my home. This feels like a charade.”

“Doesn't it feel like a charade because you make it so? Mom and Dad are trying, so stop being so stubborn.”

Mom yapping at me every time I talked to my sister was not what I would call “trying”. Eleanor picked a long hair from her otherwise perfect bangs and put it back into place.

“You know she can’t help it. She worries about me.”

Yes, she always worried about fragile little El. Evy, on the other hand, could take it all. She was strong enough to take it all. My nails dug into my palms, and Eleanor grabbed my hand.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

My breath got stuck in my throat, and my eyes blurred. “I want to go home,” I pleaded. “I just want to go home.”

The only thing this place reminded me of was what had happened to my sister and how it had affected my family. How they had kept me away from Eleanor because I was too young. How it had forced me to grow up without my parents. They had walked away, not because they had wanted to; it was their duty as parents to be there for Eleanor. Now they wanted to waltz back into my life, and I found myself unable to let them back in. I rubbed my cheeks angrily, wiping off the wet streaks. Eleanor eyed me warily.

“Why do you hate it here so much?”

For a brief second, I hesitated. Would it be worth it to tell her? Would she understand? She probably wouldn’t. But I was so tired of this situation, of having to keep up the facade and come back every time pretending I wanted to be here.

“Because being here makes me feel worthless, like I can’t control my life. And I don’t want to pretend like I am still that thirteen-year-old girl you left behind when I've moved on with my life. I have my own life with the people that were there for me. Where people don’t see me as a threat to you.”

I pressed my lips together, waiting to see how she would react now that the words were finally in the open. Eleanor smiled, albeit a bit forced.

“Evy, no one left you behind.”

“Eleanor, you weren’t here,” I bit back. “I stayed with Grandma or at Jasmine’s house for years.”

That made her pause. I snorted. Like she knew how things had been over here. I didn’t pretend like I knew how life had been for her. She drew back her hand, almost as if she was afraid to touch me now. Was it because I had crossed a line in her head, or because she suddenly realized how much I hated it here and didn’t know what to do, I couldn’t tell. I grabbed my pillow and held it against my chest. Eleanor sighed.

“I’ll tell them you need to go back home to work on a school project. If it comes from me, they won’t complain too much.”

More tears escaped my eyes, so I just nodded. My sister gave me a hug. I clung to her, too thankful to be able to say it aloud.

“You better work on a school project once you’re home again so that it isn’t a lie, okay?”

“I will.”

Just like Eleanor had predicted, my parents didn’t really react when she told them I had to go back to the apartment. I kissed them goodbye, trying to hide how relieved I was to leave. Once it was just my sister and me, I let out a loud breath.

“Thank you.”

“Let’s go grab lunch together next week, to make up for the lost night.”

I could tell that she was disappointed in my behaviour. The least I could do was accept. I nodded, and my sister gave me a smile.

“I’d love to.”

“I’ll choose the spot,” she said.

“That’s fine. I’ll see you next week, then.”

Eleanor waved before heading back inside. I couldn’t help the smile that spread on my lips as I walked to the bus stop. It was time to go home.