Chapter 33
SIENNA
Iscrape the edge of my spoon along the bottom of the ice cream container as tears stream down my face. Wiping them away, I eat one last bite of cookie dough bliss before setting the empty container down on my parents’ living room table.
The television screen in front of me is the only light in the room despite it being two o’clock on an August Wednesday afternoon. I’ve closed all the curtains, not wanting any reminders of summer anymore. Not wanting anything to trigger thoughts of him anymore.
It’s been a couple of weeks since Beth and I left Theo’s lake house. Despite my best efforts, I haven’t been able to get him off my mind. His scent, the feeling of his skin on mine, the way he chuckled every time one of his brothers amused him.
I tried to go back to business as usual, but my apartment felt suffocating.
Job applications became muddled, and I lost the energy to fill them out.
My “regularly scheduled program” only lasted about a day before I broke down.
The breakdown happened after I tried to return to my barista position, and they informed me that due to my long vacation, which they initially approved, they removed me from the schedule after some further thought.
Beth was the one who suggested a change of pace, a change of location. Knowing that my parents are currently on vacation at the beach, I decided to stay at their place for a few days. Before I knew it, a few days turned into a couple of weeks.
Lying down on the couch, I wrap one of my mom’s quilts around me, mindlessly watching the movie I put on the screen. Taking a deep breath, I wipe away my tears with a corner of the blanket, the smell of home calming my senses. A mix of eucalyptus, soil, and oak.
My parents moved us into this house when I was only eight years old.
I remember my mom being so happy we had a backyard, albeit a small one, but it was somewhere for her to finally start a garden.
My excitement came from seeing my room, much larger than the one we had in the apartment.
The kitchen was larger, the bathroom larger, and even the living room felt grand.
Now lying on the couch, I realize how small the place is.
A realization I’ve slowly come to as I’ve gotten older.
Only a one-story house, the kitchen sits to the right of the front door, the living room immediately to the left.
I stare at the small dining room table pushed up against the wall of the kitchen, opposite the sink.
I remember many nights spent staring at the wall while I ate my dinner, trying to find shapes in the drywall texture as my parents discussed the events of the day.
When I was younger, I didn’t mind much. But as I grew older, I started to yearn for a view. I quickly outgrew the space I had once been so excited about.
My phone buzzes on the coffee table. Hitting the red button on the screen, I decline another call from Beth. I’ve texted her enough to let her know I’m alive, but don’t particularly enjoy the thought of anyone ruining my pity party right now.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The noise at the front door makes me jump. My shocked heart rate steadies at the voice that follows.
“Sienna! If you don’t open this door right now, I’m breaking in.” The thick front door muffles Beth’s familiar voice.
I continue to ignore her when I hear the click of the lock and the squeak of the door opening. It only takes a few moments before Beth lifts my legs and places them on her lap when she sits next to me on the couch.
“So what’re we watching?”
I smile at her obvious attempt to make small talk when she clearly knows what movie I’ve put on.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks, her tone turning serious.
The space behind my eyes tingles as tears threaten to spring free. I think I’ve cried out all the water in my body because no more tears fall as I shake my head.
With that, the issue at hand is taken off the table, and we don’t discuss it. I’m thankful for my friend who sits with me for the rest of the night as we watch movies from our childhood.
Nostalgia rushes over me the next few days as Beth continues to visit. Her visits throw me back to when we were kids, having sleepovers in this very same house.
Although, unlike when we were kids, I’m now the one who desperately needs the sleepovers, not her.
It’s been a relief having her around. I don’t realize how much weight she lifts off my shoulders when she’s here until she leaves for work and I’m left alone in this empty house.
Relaxing in one of my mom’s lounge chairs in our small backyard, near her garden, I run my bare feet through the thick, lush grass.
The midafternoon sun beams down on me and warms my skin as the grass blades tickle and prick my feet.
Finally able to enjoy the sunshine again, I inhale and exhale as I make an effort to ground myself.
For a fleeting moment, I forget all about my troubles. I forget I don’t have a job lined up. I forget that my degree was more than likely a waste of time. I forget about my carefully constructed ten-year plan. I forget about Theo too.
Opening my eyes, I curse at how fleeting that moment of ignorance was before slinking back into the lounge chair.
The sun, high in the sky, blinds me as I look toward the clouds. Closing my eyes, I do the one thing that I’ve always refused to add into my plans.
I fall straight into a midday nap.
“This isn’t like her, John. I’m very worried.”
“Sara, our daughter is simply taking a nap in our garden. There is no need to worry.”
Familiar faint voices speak in the distance. They sound muddled, as though I’m underwater. Still being half asleep, I can’t place who they are, and I can’t find the will to care.
“She does look peaceful, doesn’t she?”
A low chuckle pulls me further out of my sleep. “Yes, she does. And beautiful, just like her mother.”
“Oh, John.” That’s all I hear before the smacking sound of kissing begins, and I’m sprung awake out of disgust.
“Ugh, ew. You guys know I’m awake, right?” I sit up in the lounge chair, stretching out the kink in my neck. “Go get a room or something. You know I hate it when you do that.”
I look up at my parents, who have now burst into a fit of laughter, something they did quite often with each other. The action reminds me of the many times Theo and I laughed in the same way, igniting the pain in my chest once again at the memory.
Having just driven back from the beach, my father stands before me in a lightweight sweatshirt and shorts. The sun was good to him over the past couple of weeks, and he’s relaxed, a state I rarely see him in.
My mother stands next to him, radiant as ever, surrounded by the colorful flowers of her garden, which she tirelessly maintains. They definitely spent a lot of time in the sun, her usually pale skin donning a slight tan, complementing the dark brown curls that frame her face.
Usually, I’d laugh with them, but watching them laugh together, lit up by the setting sun, I have a hard time connecting with their happiness today.
My parents’ laughter dies down, and their once-happy faces now bear the classic parental concern. My mom leans down and gives me a gentle pat on the knee as my dad takes a seat in the lounge chair next to mine.
“I’ll go get us some lemonade,” my mother says, heading into the house.
I mirror my father by swinging my legs over the side of the chair to face him. He stares at me and patiently waits for me to say something.
When I say nothing, he caves, “So, Pumpkin, how was the trip?”
I stare at him, trying to discern his ulterior motive by asking me about the trip.
I already know Beth called my parents and told them I have been staying here.
She didn’t tell me that directly, of course, but I saw the text message come through on her phone when my parents told her they’d be cutting their trip short by a few days.
Thankfully, she didn’t tell them about the car wreck.
Otherwise, I would’ve gotten a very stern call from my father days ago.
From my father’s question, I’d assume Beth kept things fairly vague when she spoke with them.
I wasn’t expecting them to arrive this soon. Certainly not while I was taking a nap, of all things. It’s ignorant to think that I can keep anything from them when they’ve caught me in this state.
Letting out a sigh, I finally speak, “I don’t know…” I pause, trying to find the words. “Fine, I guess.” Wow, descriptive, Sienna.
“Well, your mother and I had a great time at the beach. We were sad you couldn’t go with us this year, but I’m happy you’ve been getting some rest.” My dad gives me a soft smile.
“Rest, right.” I scoff at the idea. I might be getting some physical rest lying around my childhood home all day, but I’ve been lacking emotional rest.
“Do you not feel rested?” my mother asks, bringing out a pitcher of lemonade and three glasses. She pours us each a glass, and I take a sip before answering.
“I wasn’t entirely truthful about Beth’s and my trip this summer.” I wince at the admission to my parents.
My mother’s brows furrow with concern. “What do you mean, sweetie?”
“Well…” I take the time to explain to them what Beth and I actually did this summer. I explain that we did not rent a lake house ourselves and instead went to the Kane family’s lake house with four men. That got a grunt from my dad, but he remained quiet as I explained further.
I explained the entire fake-dating scheme and the goal of ending the summer by securing a job in line with my ten-year plan.
Leaving out all the dirty pieces one does not tell her parents, of course.
I also left out the car wreck. My dad would kill Theo if he knew, and while he’s not my favorite person right now, I’d rather not see him dead.