Five
The kitchen was warmer than the garage. The warmth brought me a feeling of peace. I no longer thought of Thomas, Beth, and Chastity laughing as we drove away. However, the sense of missing out remained. There was nothing new about this; I was missing out. Most days, it didn’t bother me. Today happened not to be “most days.”
Gigi’s phone buzzed and she pulled it from her purse. “Samantha needs eggs. Who wants to take her some?”
“Can’t one of them come and get eggs?” Avi said in a shrill voice, her body flopping to the floor. Her arms and legs opened as if she was about to make a wood floor angel.
“Avila, exactly how many donuts did you have?” Dad asked, staring down at her.
Lisieux stepped over her, going to the table where she had left a book.
“Two!” Avi shouted in her blood-sugar-crashing voice.
“She had four,” Lisieux said as she picked up the book.
“Avila, you know better!” Dad said in a stern tone.
“I’ll take the eggs,” I said, grateful for a reason to miss out on this particular moment of family life.
Avi had gotten better as she’d gotten older, but even now, too much sugar caused serious meltdowns. Maybe that was why Lisieux reread Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde so often; it fit our baby sister perfectly. Her drug of choice—sugar.
I went around Avi and, from the counter, grabbed the wire basket filled with eggs.
“You need protein. Eat this,” Dad stated as he attempted to hand Avi a slice of turkey.
“No!” she bellowed.
“Now,” he commanded.
“I’ll be back,” I said as I bolted out the back door.
I lifted my long flowing skirt above the grass with my left hand and carried the wire basket of eggs with the right. I breathed deeply, grateful for the silence and the warm sun against the pale skin of my arms. I loved the heat of the sun. If I ever left Maine, it would be for somewhere hot, with a warm ocean next to beaches scattered with seashells instead of rocks.
Jackson stood and followed me. Birds flew from trees, their movement sending a cascade of autumn leaves floating to the ground. I stopped and watched the leaves’ gently journey to the earth. I entered the forest and felt the warm, damp air. Even from here, I could smell a hint of salt from the ocean, carried into the forest, and mixing with the scent of fall leaves. It was a fragrance I was sure existed only here, in this place, where forest and sea lived so close together.
The path to the ocean and Blueberry Trail went left, the path to Sam, Jason, and Luca’s house went right. Luca … I had forgotten for a moment he would be there. I didn’t want to see him and I certainly didn’t want to speak to him. If the day was less beautiful or my house less chaotic at the moment, I’d turn around and ask Gigi to have Sam come and pick up the eggs, or at least make Lisieux come with me. But even from here, I heard Avi screaming.
Jackson and I both turned in the direction of my house. He whined.
“If she would just eat the turkey, she’d calm down,” I said, wishing she kept some level of sanity when the sugar left her system.
“We certainly aren’t going back there,” I said to Jackson after a few seconds and another shriek. “We might as well deliver these eggs. Sam’s probably halfway up here already. We may not even make it to their house, and if we do, I doubt we’ll see Luca.”
Jackson wagged his tail as I started down the trail.
When we reached the fork in the trail, he continued on, toward the beach.
I held up the basket of eggs. “We’re delivering eggs,” I told him. “Maybe we can go to the beach later.”
He stood on the beach trail, watching me as if he didn’t believe my words, though, in truth, it wasn’t that he didn’t believe them; he didn’t understand them.
“Come on,” I called as I continued down the path away from the beach.
Jackson hesitated and then sprinted forward, bounding through the trees that divided the paths, hopping out onto the trail in front of me. The beauty of this trail struck me every time I was on it. It was far narrower than the trail to the beach and it wound around trees. It had never been anything more than a foot trail, unlike the trail from our house to the beach, which had once been a dirt road.
The trees next to this trail were old and large. I placed my hand on one the trail wound around, its bark smooth from human touch. Loose rocks and roots caused me to stumble. So different from the beach trail, this felt more like hiking than walking. In the distance, the little pond was scarcely visible. When it rained, this spring-fed pond swelled, but the weather had been dry and the pond was low.
A thin trail wandered off this main trail, down to the wide, flat boulder jutting over the closest edge of the pond. It acted as a natural bench, allowing you to dangle your toes into the water. I hadn’t been down there since before Luca arrived. During the summer, that pond was teeming with mosquitos. If it weren’t for Luca, now would be the time of year to visit it and watch the frogs jump and swim—but not with Luca so near.
After a few more minutes, Sam and Jason’s house became visible. A tiny house, compared to ours. Most houses were, I supposed. I had been inside once since Luca came to my land. It was the first day he arrived, and though he’d been there only a few hours, everything about the place had already seemed different. Not necessarily a bad different, simply different.
The house sat in a small clearing. Soft grasses and clovers flourished around the structure, as if excited to have a place of bright sun in the middle of a forest. Past the house was the dirt road that served as their driveway. Even here, a strip of grass sprouted between the tire tracks.
Jackson and I stepped onto the porch. It was badly in need of paint. Despite this, the wood beneath was solid.
I knocked on the door, stood back, and waited for Sam. Nothing happened. I knocked again, this time louder.
I poked my head around to the side of the house. The rusty Jeep she and Jason shared was missing. I knocked a third time, waited for a moment, and set the basket on the peeling wood of the porch. My foot reached the first step when the door opened behind me. I turned.
Luca was there, soaking wet, in a pair of gym shorts and nothing else. His eyes grew wide when he saw me. He immediately held up a towel in a futile attempt to cover his chest. Water dripped from his curly black hair, which looked almost the same wet as it did dry.
I didn’t want to see him or talk to him. I had brought Sam the eggs she asked for; my job was done. I turned to go.
“Sorry,” he said. “I thought my aunt or uncle forgot their key or something. … They keep telling me I don’t need to lock the door, … b-but I can’t leave a door unlocked,” he said.
He was as uncomfortable being around me as I was being around him.
“Sam texted Gigi and asked for eggs, so I brought them over,” I said, gesturing to the basket near his feet.
“Oh, yeah,” he said, understanding registering on his face. “Then she realized she was out of flour and sugar too, so they went to the store, and I got in the shower.”
“Okay. You may as well keep the eggs. We have plenty. Come on, Jackson,” I said as I left the porch and started onto the nearby trail.
“Wait,” he called.