2
Abi’s car pulls into the parking lot, and a burning excitement itches my feet, making it nearly impossible to resist jumping up and down like a child on Christmas morning.
“Finally!” I yell, loud enough for the whole building to hear. My flaming red hair flies out behind me as I run to the car, swinging the front passenger door open even before the car has come to a complete stop.
Daniel, Abi’s dad, shakes his head, chuckling at my eagerness.
“Luna!” Rita, Abi’s mum, greets me with a beaming smile. She steps out of the now-parked car and wraps her arms around me. Her warm hug feels like home. “When did you arrive, sweetheart?”
“I drove up a couple of days ago. Dad’s away for work, so it didn’t make sense to stay when I could get a head start here,” I say through a mouthful of her curly blonde hair.
The thought creeps in suddenly: what would it be like to have my own mother hugging me now?
The familiar sadness stabs my chest, but I shove it back down where it belongs and tighten my grip. “I’m so glad you’re here!”
No one was more prepared than I was to get out of Lakes Entrance.
When I was little, I loved it there, especially my old Victorian house with a wraparound verandah, where I would sit on the swing and wait for Dad to come home.
The small town centre was a short drive from my house, and my mother would take me everywhere with her.
We would sit side-by-side, getting our hair done at the salon or our nails painted in all different colours, depending on our moods that day.
She was my favourite person. Dad was hardly ever around, often taking off on business trips, but I didn’t mind.
I had her. When she left, my world changed completely.
Dad tried to stay home more, but his job required him to travel a lot, and luckily, Abi’s parents took a liking to the rich girl down the road and let me stay with them while he was away.
We would all sit around the dinner table talking about our days and what had happened at school.
It was like they had accepted me as one of their own, and I started to feel more at home with them than I did in my own house.
When Dad came back, and I had to go home, our dinner table was a lot lonelier.
The only chatter was Dad on his phone to his clients on the other side of the world.
He tried to make up for it by showering me with toys and clothes, and when I was thirteen, he gave me my own credit card.
I was free to buy whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted.
If only there had been a way to buy his attention.
We hug for a minute longer, then Rita pulls back and attempts to regain her composure.
“I can’t wait to show you around. You are going to love it!
” I look over at Abi, who is standing in the open doorway of the car, clutching a book.
She looks so small, standing there, staring at me with her pale blue-grey eyes like she can’t believe she’s here.
I know she hesitated about the move a few times, and I guess she is leaving behind more than I am.
She never told me she didn’t want to come, but I could tell every time she questioned herself.
She and Mark were together a long time, but he wasn’t right for her.
He was too controlling, incessantly trying to mould her into a polite, compliant housewife.
I can’t wait to show her that there’s more to life than being a teen Stepford wife.
“The front door makes this loud noise, almost like the ghost of an old lady promising to haunt us if we dare enter.” I scrape my fingers down Abi’s arm, hoping that if I scare her, I might be able to pull her out of her head.
She shivers, her eyes wide, before swatting my hand away.
I laugh loudly as I lean into the trunk, selecting what looks like the lightest bag, careful to avoid the boxes labelled books.
“But I spoke to the landlord, and he told me that his nephew is the handyman and will stop by to take a look. Wait until you see the courtyard. It’s like something out of the art gallery. ”
I push open the front gate and lead them into the courtyard.
There are brick garden beds scattered around with bright flowers and tall green palms that reach up towards the open sky.
Leafy vines creep through the black iron railing on the second floor and wind their way down the handrail on the staircase.
Thick hedging creates a private screen for the other ground-floor apartments, while tropical plants with vibrant colours fill a small garden bed in front of ours.
The sun beams down through the palm tree canopy, creating a glistening oasis and making it hard to believe that we’re in the middle of the city.
From the second I saw the beautiful plants and the light, I imagined what it would look like as a painting.
My fingers twitch with the urge to capture the beauty around me on the page, but like all the times before, I force myself to push the thought away.