16. Natalie
Natalie
Time passes excruciatingly slowly as I wait for Jules to text me.
Our parents must still be driving their RV from Ohio.
With two drivers taking turns, the journey is certainly one that can be accomplished in a single day, but I wouldn’t blame them if they got tired and needed to stop for the night.
Driving from Florida to Pennsylvania wasn’t exactly a fun experience.
When I finally get a text, it’s at six thirty.
Juliet: They’re forty-five minutes away. You’re welcome to come over now if you’d like. We’re making burgers.
A warm sensation fills my chest. I’m more than ready to see my family, and I’ll do all I can to keep the negative thoughts and anxiety away. I pull my phone close and text her back.
Me: I’ll head over now. See you soon!
I lower the phone, eyeing the bubble that holds my sent message. The exclamation mark is too much. Is it too much?
I’m in a weird place with Juliet, and I’m not sure what to do, how to act, or what to say.
I wonder if Tyler will be at dinner. I didn’t ask if she called him, not wanting to put more pressure on her than I already have.
She called my parents at least, and that’s enough for me. I’ll ask about my brother later.
I sigh and stuff the phone in the back pocket of my jean shorts.
Turning to the mirror near the door, I straighten the thin straps of my pink satin tank top, then smooth another layer of gloss over my pink-tinted lips.
The motion brings me back to myself, back to normalcy.
I almost feel like I’m heading out to a couple’s shoot at the beach rather than to a dinner with hurt, angry family members.
My bleach-blonde hair falls in neat waves to my shoulders. I don’t look like the mess inside of me. The outside me looks great. Everything is perfect.
I grab the bags of gifts I bought for the boys—reusable water balloons and adorable little sunglasses—and drive straight to Juliet’s lake house.
When I arrive, I’m greeted by a very frazzled Juliet. My sister’s long hair sits in a low ponytail with loose strands framing her face. Her cheeks shine pink, and her eyes red. If I had to guess, I’d say she looks like she’d been crying.
I frown. “Hey, are you okay?”
She guides me into the house and I follow, catching a glimpse of her kids with her husband in the backyard through the living room windows. I don’t know them, but I still want to run outside and yell, “Auntie Nat’s here!”
Juliet pushes her hair from her face with both hands and heaves a heavy sigh.
“I’m fine. Just a lot going on all at once, that’s all.
” She gestures toward the back porch. “The burgers are cooking, and Mom said they’ll be here in”—she checks the time lit up on the microwave over her shoulder—“ten minutes.”
My heart skips like a flat stone over the lake. How will they act when they see me? What will they say?
I shake the thoughts away, breathing through my nose to calm my pulse. “Is Tyler coming?”
She busies herself, washing her hands at the sink. “No. He couldn’t take off work last minute.”
I hum my understanding, wondering what he thinks of me being back. What did Jules tell him? Was he angry? Happy? I want to ask, but I leave it at that.
“Can I help with anything?” I ask instead.
Juliet shakes her head. “Everything’s already set up on the back deck, and I have drinks staying cold in the fridge. Do you want something now?”
“Sure. What do you have?” I ask, peering across the kitchen as she opens the fridge.
“Water, lemonade, milk, beer, Moscato.” She looks back at me. “Coffee?”
I laugh at the last option. “I’ve had trouble sleeping lately; coffee won’t help.” She eyes me, but she doesn’t ask about the sleep problem. “I’ll take a glass of Moscato,” I say almost too quickly.
“You got it,” she replies. “I could use a glass as well.” As she pulls the bottle from the fridge and fills two long-stemmed glasses, she points to the gift bags still dangling from my fingers. “What’re those?”
“Oh.” I chuckle, placing them on the end of the counter. “They’re just little gifts I picked up for your boys. I didn’t have much going on today, and shopping helps calm my anxiety.”
My hand flies up to cover my lips, and I cut my eyes to Juliet. I didn’t mean to simply tell her about my anxiety. I never tell anyone about that.
But she doesn’t seem to notice as she hands my drink to me. At least, she doesn’t look surprised by it, anyway. She just nods her head and sips from her glass. I do the same, taking a long pull and gulping it down.
“Are you nervous?” she asks me then. I meet her brown eyes. “To see Mom and Dad?”
My eyes fall to the tiled floor, and I nod. “Yes. I’m afraid they’ll hate me. Like I thought you would.”
When I look up again, Juliet has her hip against the sink.
“I don’t hate you.” Her voice is warm—not cold like I’d gotten hints of yesterday.
“I’m just processing a lot. All the years without you, how you left, the shock of you being here again.
I’ve created a whole life since you left, and I’m also worried that you don’t know me anymore. ”
“Yeah,” I murmur. “That all makes sense. I guess I don’t know much about you … But I want to. And you’ve been so welcoming—I don’t deserve that.”
She shrugs. “I haven’t been that welcoming. I only gave you Moscato and called Mom and Dad for you.”
We stand there looking at each other for a few seconds, and then the doorbell rings. My parents burst through the door, not waiting for someone to answer. And why would they? They’re Juliet’s parents, and the grandparents of her kids. They belong here. Unlike me.
Mom’s voice calls out, “Natalie?”
I push off from the counter, and Mom rounds the corner, swooping into the kitchen, her arms outstretched. I’m only able to take one step toward her before her tan arms wrap around my shoulders and the scent of her rosy perfume surrounds me. In a blink, I’m a child again.
And that’s when the dam breaks.
I start to cry, and Mom rubs my back, her hand soft and warm and reassuring like I always remembered it to be. Dad steps up behind her, tears welling in his brown eyes behind his glasses, and he joins in the hug, embracing us both in his strong, steady arms.
“Shhh, shhh,” Mom soothes. “It’s okay. You’re here. I just can’t believe it.” Her voice is shaky with tears too.
I hadn’t thought about exactly what it would feel like for my parents to have lost a daughter.
But their reaction tells me it was worse than I had imagined.
They keep repeating to each other “she’s here” and “it’s a miracle,” as if I had died and come back to life.
And maybe that’s exactly what it felt like for them.
I cry harder.
When I can finally take a breath, Mom and Dad both step back to look at me and wipe their eyes. Mom reaches out to touch the ends of my hair. I let out a sniffling chuckle. I must look like a totally different person to them now.
“We’ve missed you so much,” says Dad. He looks proud to see me, but I know there are layers of hurt beneath the wrinkles on his face. He’s aged in the years I’ve been gone, and I hate myself more for missing precious time with them.
My lip quivers. “I missed you too. I’m … I’m so sorry, Daddy.” Tears roll down my face again, hot and thick. They drip down my jaw and under my chin, and I wipe at them before they can go any farther.
Mom steps aside to let Dad pull me into a gentle embrace. He’s a head taller than me, and his stubbly gray beard pokes into the top of my skull, but I don’t pull away. I missed these hugs.
“We forgive you, my girl. Of course we do.” His voice is raspier than it once was, not as strong. And it shakes now with emotion.
I want to ask them how. How can they forgive me after everything I did? After everything I put them through? They mourned me, and they’re simply letting me off the hook like a high schooler who broke curfew.
But I won’t ask them any of it—not right now. I don’t want to ruin the moment or the dinner we’re about to sit down to.
“Thanks, Dad,” I whisper into his shoulder. “I missed you so much.” My full meaning can’t fit into so few words. I’ll forever miss the time I lost with them.
Mom rubs my back again and leans in, resting her forehead against mine while Dad holds me.
It’s definitely not what I thought our reunion would look like, but I certainly wouldn’t trade it for anything else.
When I look up, Juliet has tears glistening down her red cheeks.