27. Chapter 27
Down the drain
After a quick sobbing trip to the restroom in the Miami airport, I manage to hold myself together during the three hour flight to Dallas. And then for the thankfully traffic-less drive home to Pine Tree Falls.
By the time I reach my adorable little house, I’m ready to collapse into a heap of sorrow and regret. But…
“Hey, baby girl!” Pops greets me at the door, his arms open wide.
I fall into them, managing to only let a couple tears slip past my tightly held facade. He smells like Calvin Klein Obsession cologne, the only one he’s worn since I was a little girl. And home. He smells like home.
“Hi, Pops,” I breathe into his neck.
He pulls back and studies my face, his smile dimming into concern. “What’s all this?” he asks softly, swiping at my tears with both thumbs.
Forcing a smile I don’t feel, I respond, “Oh, just a bit of vacation hangover, I guess.”
“I understand that,” he says in his kind, sonorous voice. “You made lots of friends?” When I merely nod, his face creases with amusement. “Of course you did. My Juli could make friends with a brick wall.”
That brings a genuine chuckle rolling up my throat. “There was some great cloud gazing on the island. You would have loved it.”
Pops pats my cheek affectionately. “You’ll have to tell me all about it later, but for now I’m going to get out of your hair and let you unwind. I just wanted to be here to hug you when you got home. ”
Though I’m happy to see his handsome face, I’m a little relieved he’s going to give me some time to myself so I can finally let my emotions run loose. I’ve been holding them in for hours since I left… him.
No. Nope. Not thinking of that right now.
After another hug, Pops leaves, and I look around the room. Since leaving that corridor in Miami, I feel like I’ve gone partially color blind. Or maybe someone has hit the edit button on my brain and turned down the saturation setting.
Even the normally bright pops of color in my living room seem duller. My raspberry couch appears more of a sluggish magenta, and the vibrant art on my walls has been reduced to nothing more than splashes of blah.
Will the loss of Reno Swain always mute my perception, or will I one day wake up and be able to accurately see colors again?
Perhaps I’m mistakenly attributing this weird visual phenomenon to Reno when I’ve actually had a mini-stroke or something.
If I go to a neurologist and explain that I’m either suffering from a neurological defect or my system is misfiring due to walking away from the man I’m pretty sure is the love of my life, would they be able to figure it out?
Is there even a diagnosis code for loss of color vision secondary to a broken heart?
I sigh and walk back outside to get my luggage from my vintage Volkswagen. As I’m pulling out the second one, I hear, “Hold up. I got that.”
Turning, I see Xander loping across the postage-stamp-sized yard. I put on a smile for my little brother, though little isn’t an accurate term for him physically. He’s as tall as Bubba but not nearly as stocky, sporting a leaner build.
After giving me a quick squeeze, he hands me a bottle of hazelnut coffee creamer, explaining, “I used all yours this morning, so I ran to the store.” Then he grabs the handles of my suitcases and wheels them up the sidewalk with me trailing behind.
“Thanks, Xan. You didn’t have to do that.”
“No prob. I just appreciate you letting me stay here. I managed to keep your ferns and azaleas alive.”
“I see that,” I tell him, smiling at the hanging ferns and the flowering bushes on either side of my front porch. “Did you get a lot of studying done?”
“Yup,” he says, opening the door and taking my suitcases inside. “I’m about finished with the psych shit portion of my study guide.”
“Psych shit? Is there actually a section called that?”
He laughs. “I think it’s something like Psychological, Social, and Biological Foundations of Behavior.”
I shake my head and gesture for him to follow me to the kitchen. “That’s too complicated. They should definitely change the name to Psych Shit.”
“I’ll pass on your recommendation,” he says, leaning his butt against the counter and crossing his arms while I put away the creamer. “You look tan. Was the resort nice?”
“It was top-notch,” I reply. Especially my neighbor, I think, though I keep that part to myself.
“Cool. Maybe I’ll swing on down there for a vacation some time.” The emphasis on that one word has me narrowing my eyes in suspicion until Xander bursts into laughter and admits, “Holly told me.”
“Oooh, that big mouth,” I fume, but I’m not really all that mad. “I told her not to tell.”
Xander raises one finger. “You told her not to tell Bubba .”
“Ole loophole Holly,” I say, rolling my eyes and then cringing at my next thought. “Did she tell the dads?”
“Nope. Just me and Jordie. Oh, and that red-headed cashier down at the Piggly Wiggly.”
“Nora?” I shriek. “She’s the biggest blabbermouth in Pine Tree Falls.”
Xander chortles and tugs at my braid. “Kidding. You know Holly wouldn’t tell Nora shit because she, and I quote, has the lusty eyes for Bubba .”
I nod. “It’s true. Bubba danced with her once in seventh grade and she’s been in love with him ever since.”
My brother pushes off the counter and pulls open the refrigerator to pull out a bottle of water. “So, did you meet any cute unicorns you could introduce me to?”
Propping my hands on my hips, I ask, “How did you know about unicorns?”
Xander shrugs. “The internet. I follow a cool couple called The Impulsive Duo on Insta. They’re all about providing proper education on the lifestyle. They even have an app called Unicorn Landing, which is a safe place for women in the lifestyle to get more information and resources.”
I nod thoughtfully. “Is that something you’re interested in, Xan?”
He tilts his head from side to side a few times and swigs his water. “I dunno. Maybe. Depends on if my future wife or husband would be into it.”
I smile at that. My younger brother is very open-minded about sex. He does gravitate toward women most of the time, but he’s had a couple boyfriends.
“I met a lot of really nice people at the resort. I understand there are places that are a bit wilder if you’re into that, but…
I don’t know… Pineapple Island seemed like one big family.
Even though I’m not in the lifestyle, they never made me feel like an outsider.
” I steal Xander’s water and take a sip.
“And they didn’t pressure me to get involved just because it’s something they like. It was a pretty chill atmosphere.”
Xan bobs his head up and down. “That sounds cool. Maybe I’ll go when I’m no longer a broke-ass college student. I could be a bull.”
My eyebrows knit together. “Do I even want to know what a bull is?”
He grins, and there’s a bit of wickedness in it. “It’s a man who plays with a couple. He’s usually very well-endowed, and I do have a really big—”
I cover his mouth with my hand and point to the front of the house. “Out. Now. ”
He responds by sticking out his tongue and licking my palm. With a noise of annoyance, I pull my hand away and wipe it on his shirt.
“You asked,” he points out, still smirking at me.
“I did not ask about your penis size, Xander James,” I scold, pulling out the middle name for effect.
“I’m open to most any discussion with you, but talking about your manhood is off-limits.
Boundaries, bro.” Then I quickly add, “Unless you have an STD or erectile dysfunction and need me to take you to the doctor. You can always come to me about health issues, okay?”
That makes him laugh, and he pulls me forward with his long arms. “God I adore you. You really are the best big sister.”
I hug him. “I totally am. Now scoot on out of here. I need to unpack and take a shower.”
He pulls back, his face serious now. “I mean it, Jules. You’re always there for me, and I appreciate it. Having you was better than having a mom.”
Then his sweet moment is gone, and he pokes me in the side with his index finger, eliciting a yelp from me. “You need a good spanking, Xander James,” I call at his retreating back.
I’m met with a chuckle. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Jules. Lock the door behind me.”
Shaking my head, I lock up when I hear his truck roar to life outside and replay his comment about better than having a mom . It makes me sad and proud at the same time. Sad that my siblings grew up without a mother but proud that they grew up so well adjusted despite that.
As a teenager, I’d attempted to step into the mother role for the little ones because I thought that’s what they needed.
Until my fathers sat me down and informed me that being Xander and Jordie’s mom was not my job.
Then they went with me to Dr. Hough’s office, and she explained about parentification and how it’s not a good situation for anyone involved.
Dad and Pops assured me they could handle parent duties and I should focus on being a good big sister and a female role model for the younger ones.
And that’s what I’ve always tried to do.
Even when I was asked to babysit as a teenager, I was paid just like Pops or Dad would have paid anyone else.
I realize now how important and valued that made me feel.
With a sigh, I decide to tackle my suitcases, opening the small one and sorting my dirty clothes. When I unzip the larger one, I freeze at the sight of a white box with a pretty bow on top. I didn’t put that there.
My fingers tremble when I pull out a card nestled beneath the bow and flip it over. I know who it’s from before I even see his handwriting.
Think of me when you use these. I hope we can use one together one day.
Love,
Reno
A beach ball seems to swell in my throat as I open the box and find three rows of shower steamers wrapped in blue foil paper. I wedge my fingers into the box and pull one out, a sob wrenching from my chest when I see the label reads, Ocean Cottage, my favorite scent from the resort .
Cradling it in both hands like it’s a delicate baby bird, I abandon my unpacking efforts and walk to my bathroom.
Tears obscure my vision as I turn on the shower, unwrap the disc, and carefully place it on the floor of the shower.
A minute later, I’m naked and standing beneath the hot spray as the familiar scent rises up around me.
And that’s when I let myself go. It’s the very definition of an ugly cry, complete with disgraceful noises and snot bubbles.
Reno’s dream-induced words come back to me.
Leia.
I pucking love you.
It’s not his fault he still has feelings for his ex, ones that must have resurfaced after he saw her for the first time in a while. So I don’t blame Reno, and I’m not mad at him. At all.
I am heartbroken though. I had it built up in my head that we could make things work. We could overcome distance and limited time together. But the one thing we can’t overcome is if one of us is still in love with someone else.
I tilt my face up toward the shower head to wash away my tears, but they’re immediately replaced by more.
Finally, I drop to my knees and watch as the shower steamer melts away and the residue washes down the drain. I’m sure there’s some kind of metaphor I can draw about that, but I just don’t have the fucking energy right now.
All I know is a bone-deep sadness that I’m not sure will ever go away.