“I’m going back to the cabin,” I whispered, because everything I said came out in a low tone. My voice always sounded hoarse whenever it came out, and I hated it.
Maggie arched an eyebrow.
“I don’t want to go home. I don’t want to sit with people’s pity. I don’t want that.”
No one pities you.
“Everyone does. They act like I’m deaf. I hear them. And they blame me, too. At least the media does. I don’t know. I just need a break to get away. To be by myself.”
I know what that’s like. To be in a crowded room where everyone speaks as if you’re a ghost. I’ll come with you.
I frowned. “No, Maggie. You have a to-do list to get started. I’m in no shape to be able to…” I sighed. To be able to have you. “Why does it feel like our timing’s always off?”
Her head lowered to her board, and she began to write as tears fell against her words.
Please don’t leave me again.
I lifted my left hand to console her and paused, looking down at my hand wrapped in a bandage. I wanted her. I wanted her so much, but I knew where my mind was. I knew about the panic attacks I had at night, remembering the accident. I knew about the panic attacks I had during the day, realizing I was the one holding back my band, disappointing my fans, losing promoters for our tour. Losing hundreds of thousands of dollars because of my idea to force myself out on a boat.
I didn’t want to leave Maggie May, but I knew I had to. She had a lifetime of her own panics. The last thing she needed while she was becoming better was to deal with mine.
“Guess who’s back? Back again? Cheryl’s back!” Cheryl hollered, walking into the house with two suitcases and dreadlocks. It had been a week since Brooks sent me home and gone up to the cabin without me. Everyone tried their best to convince him not to go alone, but he wouldn’t have any part of it. He had his nurses who checked in on him and cared for him each day, but otherwise, he was out on his own in Messa.
Daddy, Mama, and I sat down at the dining room table eating dinner as Cheryl came charging into our house, unannounced. Last I heard she was on some island with her boyfriend.
“Cheryl,” Mama said, surprised, but still happy to see her world traveler. “What are you doing here?”
“What? Can’t a girl come visit her family?” She pulled the chair out beside me and sat.
“Always,” Daddy replied. “But last we heard, you were deeply in love with a boy named Jason, and getting dreadlocks on some sandy beach.”
She shook her head. “True, that happened.”
“Where’s Jason?” Mama asked.
“Well, funny story actually. The woman who did my dreads ended up also doing my boyfriend, too.” Everyone’s faces dropped, and Cheryl smiled. “Aw, come on, now. No sad faces. You know what I always say, when life gives you lemons, find vodka.” She reached for my hand and squeezed it. “And find family, too.”
Mama shifted in her seat and looked at Daddy with sad eyes. Without words, they held a conversation, until her lips parted. “Girls, now that you’re both here, I think this is the best time for your father and me to tell you the news.”
I sat up straighter, and Cheryl did, too. “What’s going on?” she asked.
“Your mother and I…we’re…” Daddy swallowed hard and gave me a tight smile. “We’re separating.”
What?
No.
“What are you talking about?” Cheryl questioned, confused. She laughed nervously. “Come on. You’re not separating. That’s ridiculous.”
“Well, it’s been a long time coming actually,” Mama explained with a shaky voice. “And now that Maggie has been able to leave the house, we just think it’s time.”
“It’s the best thing, really. For all of us,” Daddy lied through his teeth.
I knew he was lying, too. Because if he were telling the truth, his eyes wouldn’t have looked so sad.
After dinner, Cheryl came into my room, where I was lying on my bed, listening to music on my iPhone. She lay down beside me and took one of my earbuds so she could listen, too.
“I’m twenty-seven years old, and somehow I feel like I want to become my angsty teenager self again, crawl into my closet, and listen to Ashlee Simpson’s Autobiography album over and over again, because my parents are splitting up.”
I’m twenty-eight and feel the same.
“How’s Brooks?” she asked, tilting her head in my direction.
I shrugged. He said he needed space, to be alone.
She nodded. “I get that. When you asked him for space, he gave it to you…so I understand you feeling as if you need to give him the same.”
We kept listening to the music, and Cheryl chuckled. “Remember when we were kids, and I said to you. ‘I don’t know what I’m doing with my life,’ or something?” She started giggling. “Ten years later, and the words still ring true.”
Even though the thought was depressing, we couldn’t stop laughing at it. Sometimes all a person needed to relax their troubled mind was their sister and some laughter.
Within seconds, we were listening to “Pieces of Me,” by Ashlee Simpson, rocking our heads back and forth. We listened to the album a few times, until our minds were back in our childhood days.
Whenever the song “LaLa” came on, we’d stand up and dance with one another. Even though I was proud of Cheryl for traveling the world, I would’ve been lying if I said I wasn’t happy she came home.
Even though Brooks asked for his space, I needed to remind him the same way he always reminded me that he wasn’t alone. I’d send him a text message each morning.
Maggie: You okay today, Brooks Tyler?
Brooks: I’m okay, Maggie May.
Then, a message each night.
Maggie: You okay tonight, Brooks Tyler?
Brooks: I’m okay, Maggie May.
Even though it wasn’t enough to make me stop worrying, it was enough to help me sleep sometimes.
The town of Messa was tiny. The lake took up most of the area. There wasn’t much to the place except a grocery store, a high school, one gas station, and a library, which were all lined up on the coast of the lake. It was all on the opposite side of Mrs. Boone’s cabin, though, which was even nicer. It kept me feeling more alone. I’d only traveled into town for food, then I came back to the cabin.