Our minds were synched almost perfectly already. I never told Isaac that, so I knew it was his way of telling me to call him in the morning.
I watched Isaac walk toward his car and I couldn’t resist making a mental note of every step he made, how incredibly beautiful he was even when most of his features were obscured by the night. He glanced back at me once after he opened the door, and he smiled.
I was completely into Isaac Mayfair. Everything just felt right, like it was meant to be. Whatever ‘it’ was.
11
UP BEFORE TEN IN the morning, I decided that as much as I wanted to call Isaac that I would just let him sleep. At least that was the plan to tell him if later he asked why I waited so long. Really, I just didn’t want to seem so eager.
Beverlee and Uncle Carl left early for work and I was alone in the house. I watched television for a while and then tried reading a new book, but I wasn’t much in the reading mood. I cleaned—seemed to be doing a lot of that lately—swept off the giant front porch and even watered Beverlee’s poor, dehydrated plants.
I eventually did try calling Isaac before noon, but his cell didn’t ring and went straight to voicemail. A sure sign his phone had been turned off. “Hey, it’s me,” I said into the phone. “I know you’re probably still asleep; just wanted to call. Not necessarily the morning anymore, but you can’t say much now can you?” I laughed. “I’m cleaning the house for Aunt Bev, so I’ll talk to you later.”
It was nice having the house to myself, but after a while, I was so bored I was going out of my mind.
I ended up in the barn, sifting through stuff that looked like it had not seen sunlight in fifty years. Nothing of interest. Nothing I could identify much, either. A couple of old rusted bikes lay against the barn wall, a wooden baby bed tossed on a pile of other unknown junk. A desk covered in sawdust, lots of hay, though I wasn’t sure of its purpose since there were no animals to use it. The only thing that looked as though it had been taken care of was the bright red riding lawnmower parked near the front door. I only wished the barn were one of those that had a second floor. I could picture myself hiding up top with a good book and nothing to disturb me. This barn wasn’t as welcoming as those you see in Lifetime movies. There were spider webs everywhere; the air stank of mildew. The roof probably had a year left in it before it started giving away completely, especially in the far corner where it looked close to falling through. I could even hear rats squealing and scurrying around.
When I walked back out of the barn and stepped into the sunlight, I could’ve sworn I saw a figure move past the kitchen window in the house.
Approaching the house with caution, I almost scared myself enough not to go any further. But it was the middle of the day, the sun was high in the sky, birds were singing and I could hear a plane passing by somewhere. Bad things don’t happen to people when the weather is nice; definitely not in broad daylight and when birds are chirping.
It probably wasn’t anything at all, I thought.
I walked up onto the porch, tiptoed to the living room window, and peeked around to look inside.
Nothing.
Ditching the paranoia, I walked right in and went to the kitchen to make a glass of iced tea. As I squeezed a lemon into it, I heard a creaking sound coming from upstairs. I had heard that distinct sound before, but only when Uncle Carl was walking out of his office and into the hallway restroom.
Someone was definitely inside the house and I was too afraid to move. Quietly, I set the glass of tea onto the counter and opened the drawer closest to where I stood. Great. It was the drawer where Beverlee kept her collection of harmless wooden cutlery. The big, sharp knives were on the far side of the kitchen sitting securely in a knife display. I would have to walk around the enormous bar to get to it.
Footsteps came down the stairs. I could see the shadow of a figure accompanying them.
I dashed across the kitchen and reached for the knives, but instead knocked the whole display into the floor and even still the knives did not come out of it.
“Adria,” said Alex, “what are you doing!”
Shocked to see that it was my sister, I didn’t notice that I did manage to get one of the knives into my hand. I clutched it close to me.
“Put down the knife.”
When my heart rate slowed and I could think clearly, I placed the knife beside me on the bar.
“What are you doing here?” I said. “Scared the crap out of me!”
Alex was slow to answer, or maybe I was just so scatterbrained that I absently refused to let her get a word in.
“Seriously,” I went on, “what are you doing back here?”
“Am I not welcome?”
Alex opened the refrigerator and began drinking straight out of the orange juice carton.
Only after she finished it off did I answer her.
“Well, after what you’ve put Beverlee and Uncle Carl through, I’m not so sure anymore.”
Suddenly, Alex looked dismayed. She paced the kitchen floor a few times and finally sat down at the bar. I watched her as she played with the ends of her fingertips, head lowered, quiet and clearly poignant. I knew then I had to drop the mad act with her and become her loving sister again. I sat down on the empty stool next to her. “Alex,” I said, “what’s wrong? Look, I was just messing with you; Beverlee and Uncle Carl will let you come back, I know they will.”
Alex sighed heavily and looked over at me.
“That’s good to know,” she said, “and I know I screwed up big-time, but I’ll talk to them.”
“Good,” I said, smiling, “then that’s settled. I’m so glad you’re home.” I went to hug her, but something about her demeanor stopped me and also stripped the happiness from my face.
“That’s not the only reason I came here,” said Alex.
I looked at her probingly.
“I have some bad news and it isn’t about me.”
I waited impatiently, but at the same time I wasn’t sure I even wanted to know.
“Julia's dead.”
I think the world stopped moving for a second, at least my world did. When a person hears news like that, it can play tricks on the mind. What did she say? Did I hear her right? Seriously, is this some cruel joke? Death? I had forgotten all about its existence. No...It can’t be true.
After an extremely long pause I said, “...How?”
“She got really sick,” Alex began, “and refused to go to the hospital. She just died. Her dad found her. It was awful.”
To speak was an effort for me. I couldn’t see anything in front of me either; just blurs of memorable faces and random objects. “What kind of sickness?” I said.
“Not sure. The flu, pneumonia; I don’t know. The coroner picked her body up early this morning.”
Hearing that Julia had died was enough; I didn’t really want to know about the coroner and that whole dismal process. But it hit me then; Isaac and Zia had been sick recently, too. Could Julia have died from the same illness? I was panicking inside all over again.
“Have you been sick?” I said, worriedly. “You don’t think you have it, do you?”
“No,” she answered. “I feel great.”
It was odd how she said that. In a time like this, one does not usually feel great, or nice, or anything above okay. I was having a hard time reading her.
I was supposed to call Isaac if Alex ever came home, but so far, I found no reason to. Alex was being civil, definitely more herself without Ashe and the rest of them around. I sensed no sarcasm in her tone, no threatening attitude.
My sister wanted to come home. She had finally admitted to herself that she made a huge mistake. Maybe Julia’s death helped her to see it, but whatever it was, my sister was seeking forgiveness and change and I could find nothing wrong with that.
My cell phone almost vibrated right off the counter. Isaac’s name displayed on the Caller I.D.
“I’ll be right back,” I told Alex, and I waited until I was outside on the front porch before I answered.
“I slept late,” he said on the other end. “Should’ve left my phone on, but I’m so used to turning it off at night before I go to bed.”
“It’s alright,” I said. “So, what’s up?”
Our conversation was awkward before it began. Unlike Isaac, I wasn’t a good liar and it was difficult for me to talk to him with the whole guilt-thing hanging over my head.
“Not much,” he said, “Zia and I wanted to stop by later on, if you’re up to it.”
“Ummm, I don’t know if I have time today,” I said, nearly stuttering. “I think Beverlee and Uncle Carl wanted me to go somewhere with them tonight and right now...I’m still doing stuff around the house.”
I paused for a moment and said, “Did—.” Julia never left my thoughts and I had started to tell Isaac what happened, but caught myself just in time. He would want to know how I knew about it and that was a lie I knew I could not come up with successfully on such short notice. I would use the rest of the day between spending time with Alex to figure out how I would go about the horrible news of my ex friend. Besides, I had many more questions to ask Alex about Julia and the Vargas family and everything in-between.
I hated this so much I wanted to just spill it and tell Isaac that Alex was home. The only thing I wanted more than spending time with him was having my sister back. You never really expect to have to challenge the two best things ever. People are usually lucky just to get one.
“Okay,” he said with a slightly leery pause, “then I’ll just talk to you tomorrow then—is everything alright over there?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” I said, faking a smile in my voice. “I’m just exhausted from all the cleaning.”
I was confident he believed me. I think I was more worried about Isaac thinking I didn’t want to see him than I was worried about him finding out that Alex was in the house.
After hanging up, I went back inside to find Alex in the den, kicked back with her feet on the coffee table. She had not one, but three large glasses of iced tea lined in a perfect row next to her feet. A bag of chips sat next to her on the couch.
If Alex was going to win back the respect of Beverlee and Uncle Carl, she was going to need a lot of work.
I had less than five hours to help her.
“Alex,” I said approaching, “you know Beverlee doesn’t even let Uncle Carl put his feet on the coffee table.”
She looked at me, smirked and then slid her feet onto the floor. A few seconds later and she was gulping down one glass of tea without taking a breath.
I sat next to her.
“Thirsty?”
The empty glass pinged against the coffee table as she set it down.
“Definitely.”
I expected more of an answer and so I waited in case she had more to say.
“So,” I went on, “what made you decide to come home?”
“I missed my little sister.” The chip bag rattled as she dug around inside it.
Okay, this was ridiculous and I was already on the verge of saying something to Alex I might regret. It was hard to take her seriously with how her attitude flip-flopped from promising to impolite from one second to the next. She just needs time, I thought. At least she’s home and making an effort—can’t expect a miracle.