1. Elsa Was Really a Redhead
ELSA WAS REALLY A REDHEAD
ANNELISA
I let myself into my sister’s house and take in the chaos before me.
My four-year-old niece, Brandie, has covered every inch of floor in the lounge room with blankets from the large basket where they are kept.
At least, I’m assuming it was Brandie, judging by the various stuffed animals scattered around.
It definitely seems more likely to have been her than Tara, her thirty-one-year-old mother and my younger sister.
And I’m pretty sure Tara would kick her husband’s ass if he left her lounge room looking like this.
Aiden isn’t always the tidiest, but I think even he has enough self-preservation instincts not to leave the house looking like a bomb went off.
“Tara! Are you here?” I call out, navigating my way through the sea of blankets.
“In here!” Tara hollers back, and I continue on towards the kitchen.
Brandie sits at the kitchen table, colouring, and singing to herself while kicking her legs back and forth. Her deep red hair, identical to mine and Tara’s, hangs down her back in waves.
Smiling, I take a seat next to her, picking up a pencil and beginning to colour in a picture of Elsa from Frozen.
“So, what are you cooking me for dinner?” I ask, turning to Tara with a toothy grin.
“I’ll cook you dinner if you get those boxes out of my spare room and take them back to Mum’s,” she replies, not looking up from the cupcakes she’s icing.
“Ugh… I guess I’ll just starve,” I reply, and she pauses to glare at me.
“Annelisa Richards, you take those boxes before I have to rock up with them in my car and accidentally drop one on your head while you sleep.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Jeez. That’s a tad violent, Tara.”
She snorts. “I’ve had to resort to violence because asking nicely has not worked once since you got back, and I had to keep asking over and over.
I want people to be able to use my spare room, Lis.
And at the moment, the boxes completely ruin the aesthetic.
Mum brought them here when she was downsizing and promised me that you’d deal with them the next time you were in town.
Well, guess what, you’ve been in town for a month, and I still can’t see the floor in there. ”
“Chill. I’ll take them with me. I’ve got Mum’s car cause I had to take the rental back, so they should all fit.”
She claps her hands together and holds them against her chest. “Thank God. In that case, I will cook you dinner. Also, why’d you have to take the rental back?”
I shrug, continuing to colour the picture in front of me. “It was getting expensive, and Mum wasn’t using hers for a while, so figured I’d just save some money and use hers.”
“You know, you could just buy a car.” Tara gives me a pointed look, which I choose to ignore .
“I still don’t know if I’m sticking around, so why would I buy a car?”
She snorts again. “Come off it. We both know you’re back for good, you just refuse to accept it.”
“Why would I accept it when I don’t know if that’s what I want? Besides, I still have stuff back in London. And a room I’m paying for.”
She purses her lips. “Can you honestly tell me that you’d rather go back to London, where you were miserable and lonely, than stay here where you’ve got your family who love you?
And friends, who, if you bothered to contact any of them, would love to spend time with you again?
” When I don’t answer immediately, she continues, “Maybe it’s time to sort through those boxes? ”
I glare at her, but Brandie notices what I’m doing before I can respond.
“Aunty Lissa, that’s the wrong colour! Elsa’s hair is yellow!”
I grin while I continue colouring Elsa’s hair red. “I feel like Elsa was really a redhead. I mean, she has the fire of a redhead, just like us, huh?” I nudge Brandie with my elbow and wink.
The little girl fixes me with a determined glare. “No, it’s yellow. Do it right.” She hands me a yellow pencil, removing the red one from my hand before returning to her own picture.
I look over at Tara with raised eyebrows while she smothers a laugh with her hand.
“What can I say? She’s a woman who knows what she wants… World domination is in her future, I swear.” Tara hands me a plate with a cupcake on it. “So, no avoiding it. It’s time to deal with those boxes.”
I sigh, wishing my sister wasn’t quite so good at finding my sore spots. “I’ll be taking the boxes back to Mum’s and shoving them into her spare room cupboard that no one sleeps in but me.”
My tone should be enough of a hint that we need to end the conversation, but I can tell that Tara isn’t going to let it go. It’s a well-worn conversation. Discussed to death, actually. Well, at least on Tara’s side. I rarely discuss it and spend most of my time avoiding the topic when it comes up.
“You know, you might actually feel better about everything if you open those boxes…” Tara keeps pushing.
“Can we just let it go? The past is in the past… No point in opening old wounds after all this time. No good can come from it.” I pick the cupcake up and rip the bottom half off before smashing it into the icing on top.
Brandie watches me, fascinated, while I eat it like a sandwich. “I wanna do that too!” She proceeds to attempt the same thing and almost loses the icing altogether before Tara rescues it.
Never have I been so grateful to have the focus off me.
“Hello?” My brother-in-law, Aiden, appears in the doorway with a stack of notepads in his arms.
“Hey, babe,” Tara replies while Brandie jumps to her feet and throws her arms around Aiden’s waist.
“Annelisa,” Aiden says, nodding towards me.
I wave back while I finish chewing.
“How was school?” Tara asks, taking the books from Aiden’s arms.
He brushes a kiss to her forehead. “Fine. I’ve got so much marking to do tonight, though.”
Aiden’s recently started working as a primary school teacher, and I have no idea how he does it. I love my niece, but I couldn’t spend that much time with a large group of children and stay sane. He handles it all really well, though.
“Dinner will be ready in about half an hour, if you want to take a shower and decompress?” Tara suggests.
Aiden nods. “Yeah, that’s a good idea, thanks love. Are you staying for dinner, Lis?”
I grin. “Yep. Sorry.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “Nothing to be sorry for, you’re always welcome here.”
“Good man. ”
As he walks out, he calls back over his shoulder, “Just remember to take the boxes when you leave this time!”
Tara shoots me a triumphant grin while I drop my forehead onto my arms in defeat.
“Oh, and Tara… what happened to the lounge room?” Aiden calls from the other room, and I’m saved from any further comments when Tara goes to look and loses her mind.
After staying for dinner, Aiden and Tara help me load the car with the boxes, and I roll my eyes when Tara claps her hands with glee once they are all out of the spare room.
Waving goodbye, I head back to Mum’s apartment a few streets away and lug the boxes up the stairs over several trips.
When she’d finally sold the house that Tara and I grew up in, she’d bought a three-bedroom apartment in an older building. It’s fully renovated, but the lack of elevator makes me wonder how long she plans on staying. At sixty, her knees aren’t getting any younger.
Once I get all the boxes inside, I take them to the third bedroom that I’ve been using as an office while I’ve been here, and pile them in the wardrobe.
I figure, if they are in here, I don’t have to look at them.
Stepping back, I stare at them for a moment, my gaze fixed on the once familiar handwriting that spells out my name, before tentatively reaching out and opening the first one.
At the very top, a framed photo from seven years ago looks up at me.
Taken at the wedding of two of my oldest friends, I run a finger over the image of the person sitting next to me.
His beautiful face was once more familiar to me than my own, and I wonder how much it’s changed since then.
Do his eyes still sparkle with laughter?
Or have the years worn him down like they have me?
I stare at the photo for a long time, lost in thought and drowning in memories. Memories that I swore I would never relive, knowing that it would be like ripping my heart out over and over. Seven years is a long time to nurse a broken heart…
Hastily wiping a tear away, I shove the photo back in the box and close it again.
I’ll never be ready to deal with the memories inside of those boxes. Like I said to Tara, the past is in the past. There’s no point in opening old wounds.