“Hey,” I say, taking a step closer to the living room entrance. “I was going to make something to eat. Are you hungry?”
“I already ate,” he says back right away.
Okay…
An awkward silence hangs in the air between us and I don’t know how to fill it. What am I supposed to say to this complete stranger who is my family?
“I’m going to bed. We have to be up early tomorrow,” Stan says, turning off the TV and standing abruptly. “The gift shop opens at nine but I need you there by eight forty-five so I can show you how to work the register.”
With that not so friendly reminder, he heads past me and down the hall to his bedroom.
“Okay then,” I say to myself as I turn and head into the kitchen.
I didn’t realize how late it had gotten but the clock on the microwave says that it’s close to ten p.m. I guess part of it is the time difference between Michigan and California.
I open the old fridge and look around. There isn’t really anything to choose from and I’m guessing that my great-uncle isn’t much of a cook. The dishes in the sink have been washed and put away and I grab a plate out of one of the cupboards and then dig around until I find a loaf of bread.
My mom used to make me peanut butter and honey sandwiches when I was a kid and tears sting the back of my eyes as I make one for myself now.
I thought that I was all cried out after the last few weeks. I stopped crying myself to sleep a week ago but now it’s almost worse. It’s the little things now that sneak up on me and take me by surprise.
I hear a song that she loved and I start to cry. I see something that reminds me of her and the waterworks turn on.
Everyone kept telling me that it would get easier with time. The pain would fade and I would just remember all of the good times with her. I wanted to ask them how long that would take but I know that no one really knows.
It’s dark out but there’s a full moon and eating outside seems less sad than standing in the dimly lit kitchen, eating my sandwich over the sink by myself, so I head out the back door.
There is a wooden bench on the back porch and I take a seat there, resting my feet on the porch railing. I take a bite of my sandwich, resting the plate on the bench next to me as I take in my surroundings. The back of the house faces the woods and with the full moon shining down, I can just make out most of the property.
Something about seeing the stillness of nature is beautiful and I find myself relaxing. It’s peaceful, a gentle breeze blowing my hair around my shoulders. I close my eyes, resting my head against the back of the bench as I try to process everything that has happened today.
Sure, my great-uncle doesn’t seem that friendly but he did let me stay here for free. It’s hard to get my hopes up but maybe he was just thrown off by finding out that my mom passed and me showing up on his doorstep. Maybe tomorrow will be better, though I somehow doubt it.
Teller seems nice and at the very least he’s pretty to look at. I didn’t know that I had one but my body’s reaction seems to be telling me that he’s exactly my type. I’m actually pretty sure that he’s everyone’s type. Who doesn’t like laid back, charming, smoking hot guys? I’m not looking to start a relationship while I’m here, but I could be friends with him. Even if I was, my plan is to find an equally successful person in the future to settle down with. Some small town employee at a tourist trap doesn’t fit that.
My room seems nice now that it’s cleaned up. Plus, it’s free and I’ll be able to earn some extra money while I’m working here. Hopefully I can head to Boston in the fall with a nice safety cushion.
I sigh, thinking about delaying my five-year plan for this summer. I keep reminding myself that it’s only for three months and then I’ll be back on track. Three months and then I’ll be starting my new life. I’ll find a good paying job, a nice apartment, and I’ll be back on track. I’ll be successful. I’ll be able to take care of myself.
I just need to start thinking of this summer in a different way. It’s just a vacation. A break before I get back to my real life.
Maybe this summer won’t be so bad after all.
The sound of an animal on the porch has my eyes flying open and I look up to see a mangy black and white stray dog standing a foot away from me. I don’t know anything about animals but if I had to guess I would say that he was at least part collie based on his long fur.
He’s so skinny and he looks hungry as he licks his lips. We stare at each other for a beat and I wonder what I should do.
We never had pets when I was growing up. We couldn’t really afford one and our apartment didn’t allow them.
Am I supposed to let him smell me? If I move to touch him, will he bite me? He looks friendly enough, but what do I know?
As I’m debating, he edges closer and I hold my breath as he shuffles even closer to the bench. Maybe he’s the friendly neighborhood stray.
I smile at him, trying to show him that I’m not a threat as I start to lean forward. He holds still as my fingers brush over him. His fur feels dirty and is matted in some places. I can feel his ribs as I brush over them and my heart breaks for him.
Then he lunges.
I squeak, darting off the bench and spinning around in time to see him grabbing my sandwich off of the plate and leaping over the porch railing.
“What the!” I shout as I take a few steps toward him but he’s already devoured it.
He wags his tail, staring at me from a few feet away and I can’t help it.
I start to laugh.
The crazy dog eyes me happily, barking once before he runs off into the trees and I sigh, tipping my head back to the night sky.
Somehow, this feels like the fitting end to a long day. Nothing is going the way I thought it would and maybe I should take it as a warning.
If you get your hopes up, you’ll only end up getting burned.
I take one last look up at the moon before I head inside, locking the back door and making my way up the stairs. I change into my pajamas and collapse down on my bed, closing my eyes. I’m asleep a minute later.
5
I definitely should have gone to bed earlier last night. I’ve been up since seven-thirty, which is four-thirty California time, and I’m paying for the few hours of sleep that I got now.
Stan was in the kitchen when I stumbled down the stairs and while he hadn’t said anything to me, he had passed me a cup of coffee before he headed into the gift shop. I usually only have some oatmeal or a banana for breakfast and I make a mental note to go to the store at some point this week to grab a few things.
I toast a piece of bread and down another two cups of coffee before I head into the gift shop. It’s just now eight-thirty but my great-uncle is already waiting behind the front counter like he’s been standing there for the last twenty minutes.
He’s brisk as he shows me how to ring everything up. It seems straightforward but I already know that if I do have any questions, I’ll be finding Teller and asking him instead of Stan.
The gift shop isn’t very big and I walk around, trying to get a look at all of the merchandise. There are a few shelves and display tables set up in the center of the room. All of the T-shirts, sweaters, and hoodies are hanging up along the back wall.