“Where’s Landon? We’re going to need some extra man power to make a dent in all of this.”
“He’ll be back. He just had to run by his work really fast for something,” Kendall responds like the fact that Mindi just so casually asked about Landon and avoided mentioning Max as though he doesn’t even exist is completely customary, even though we’re gathered in his kitchen.
The thought distracts me from their current conversation, and my eyes rake over nearly every surface in the kitchen. I’ve cooked at this stove. I’ve emptied this dishwasher. I’ve cleared this table, and have even done fairly obscene things on the countertops that are now laden with food, yet traces of me have nearly vanished. I’ve noticed the small changes in practically every room that I’ve been in. Things that I had brought over of my own, or purchased either alone or with Max, are now gone, leaving bold shadows for my eyes to focus on.
I feel the strange desire to wrap my hand around the knobs on the cabinets, run my fingers across the counters, knowing that Max has been here and touched these objects. He’s been living in this house, erasing me from it.
A chorus of laughter brings me back to the room filled with my family, and I paint a smile on my face and pretend that I just heard whatever was said.
Caulder, Kyle, and Adam bow out of drinking after each finishes a couple of beers, and transition to water and lemonade that Mindi brought to spike with vodka. I can’t seem to stop the thoughts from churning through my mind, wondering what life would be like if my dad wasn’t gone. If I hadn’t freaked out and ran away from Max one too many times. If I was still a part of their daily and weekly lives as we sit around and share stories.
“I can’t believe you joined a gym!” Kendall cries after I suggest to Savannah that she try a spin class.
“Neither can I,” I reply, taking a long pull of my vodka. “It’s worse than I’d always feared, but I’ll admit, the classes and equipment are pretty cool.”
“You should try a hot yoga class,” Jenny adds. “I think you would really enjoy it. There’s a lot of strength building and stretching, and it’s really relaxing.”
“I went to your hot yoga class. That was the least relaxing experience of my life other than labor,” Mindi says with disdain. “I was sweating like a pig and could hardly breathe. I thought I was going to die.”
“But didn’t you feel better after?”
“No!” Mindi cries. “I have to leave the door open to the bathroom now when I shower because if I start to see any steam, my muscles quiver in fear.”
I’m already laughing, but when I hear Kendall’s giggle from beside me, and feel her lean against my side, my cheeks begin to burn because I’m laughing so hard.
When we can start breathing normal again, I look up to find Kyle staring at me with a pained expression. I know him too well. I know that he’s thinking the same things I was before dinner and mere moments ago, wondering what would have been.
“Tomorrow, we’re finally celebrating your birthday!” Kendall declares, breaking me from my distant thoughts.
“Sassy Sister Saturday!” Savannah cheers, obviously feeling the fourth vodka lemonade she’s nearly finished. With the sentiment a smile breaks out on my face as I shake my head.
“We’re not celebrating my birthday. We’re celebrating Jenny getting married,” I remind her.
“We’re also celebrating your birthday. You can legally go out with us now!” Jenny says with a smile.
“Legally? How long have you been going out?” Adam asks.
“Not long. Shortly after—”
“No, no. Don’t answer that. Neither of us wants to hear that answer,” Caulder says, shaking his head several times from his seat beside Kyle, who nods in agreement.
“Not long,” I repeat with a grin.
“Tomorrow is a girls’ night!” Mindi calls out with a cheer.
We make a final toast and then my sisters, brothers, and brother-to-be pack up, leaving us a fridge packed with salads, desserts, and a ridiculous amount of broccoli that everyone skirted around.
I feel exhausted as I nestle into the couch that is admittedly more comfortable than what I’m used to, but my mind is racing with thoughts that are too loud to allow me to sleep. The faint sound of my phone vibrating is a welcomed distraction and I dig it out of my purse to see that I have six new text messages.
Danny: I’m glad u arrived safely. XO
Danny: The low tonight where u r, is higher than our warm 2morrow. :p
Danny: I hope everything’s going well.
Danny: I already miss U. I sound like a fucking sap. What r u doing 2 me?
It’s after two here, which means he’s likely on his way to the gym for training. Somehow in the past couple of months—although I insist that we’re only friends—I’ve become acutely aware of several details and facets of his life. Lying here in my ex-boyfriend’s house, on a couch that I’ve had countless make out sessions on, I feel a flood of guilt. It’s like I’m living in two worlds: one filled with a deep-seated history, containing memories and love, but also pain and regret, and the other where I’m still struggling to find out where I fit, and how, but feeling stronger than maybe ever.
Me: It’s going really good. All of my sisters just left. It’s weird that I’m getting ready to go to bed and you’re waking up.
While I wait for him to reply, I open my other messages and see two from Fitz:
Fitz: I hope you’re having fun and relaxing.
Fitz: You must be having a lot of fun. This radio silence is deafening.
Me: Sorry, Fitzy. Left my phone in my purse and didn’t hear it. I miss you. Everything’s going really good though. I’m glad I came early.
As I finish my text to Fitz, a new message from Danny arrives.
Danny: It is. If u can’t sleep call me. I’ll skip Vinny.
Me: No way, I like that Vinny likes me—he’s scary.
Danny: He would blame me, not U.
Me: Yeah right. Say hi to Vinny, and get to work, you bum. :P I’m going to sleep off my vodka buzz.
Danny: lol sleep good, babe. Call me when U get up.
This isn’t the first time that Danny’s called me babe, but it sounds a lot louder here in California. I don’t reply. Instead, I power it off and pull the blanket, a light beige throw that I’ve never seen before, tighter around myself and search for sleep.
“A ship is safe in a harbor, but that’s not what ships are for.”
–William G.T. Shedd
Something wakes me from my sleep, and it takes me a moment to realize where I am when I don’t see my familiar box-converted-nightstand covered in shadows, but rather a coffee table that I’ve seen countless times, covered in bright rays of sunlight. I straighten my legs and stretch as I roll my entire body to the side and freeze when I realize that the sunlight isn’t what woke me up. My heart is working to recover as I sit up and let out an excited squeal as Wes stands at the other end of the couch, and engulfs me in a hug.
“Wes!”
“Shit, it’s good to see you!” he says, pulling back and looking over my face several times.