Finding Me (19 page)

Danny: I will. Have fun w/ ur sisters @ the party.

Me: Be safe.

Danny: Promise. U 2.

Savannah and Mindi are curling ribbons and tying them to gift bags when Kendall and I arrive.

“Oh good, we need help! I thought this was going to take like ten minutes but there’s so much to do! I need to make punch, and pull out the food, fill the gift bags …” Mindi shoves aside a mess of papers and pens, her brow furrowing. “I have a banner somewhere too.”

Kendall walks a few feet into the kitchen and starts uncovering party platters while I rummage through sacks to see what needs to be included in the favor bags without further instruction.

I look around the living room covered in soft pastels. Lavender, ivory, and butter yellow are Jenny’s wedding colors, and it seems that everything is dressed in one of the themed colors. Vases of purple lilac flowers cover several surfaces, providing a sweet scent that tickles my nose.

“Nice tent job on the house, Min. Where are all the mice?”

Mindi turns to look at me and I see her mind racing to form a response. “We really didn’t plan this very well, did we?”

I crack a smile and shake my head. “You guys are lucky I love you so much.”

She starts a train of laughter that has all of my sisters losing focus for a few minutes before we commence with completing tasks.

This is the longest I’ve ever gone without coming over to Mindi and Kyle’s. When they moved out, they both wanted to live in the same neighborhood as my parents but weren’t able to afford the area, so they moved into an older development with smaller houses that are all just as well kept and still a close distance from where they wanted to be.

“I thought all of the girls were going to be here, where are they?”

“Mom’s bringing them with her,” Mindi replies automatically as she begins hanging the banner she found in a bag of decorations.

I try not to let the thoughts of seeing my mom affect me. I’ve been preparing myself for this, hearing Kitty’s voice in my head, telling me about our life paths and how I need to allow my mom to make her own decisions, just as she’s allowing me to make mine. Her more frequently spoken assurance is difficult to remember, especially this morning: that we still love each other, even though things are strained right now with being in unfamiliar territory.

I haven’t appreciated hearing that guarantee from Kitty. In fact, I have adamantly challenged it each time she has repeated the words to me, causing her to reiterate them again and again with added reverence.

My sisters and I work together effortlessly, knowing each of our work styles and strengths so well we barely have to vocalize anything as we finish getting things set up. Kendall’s laughing about some penis shaped straws that she found for the bachelorette party with Mindi when Savannah places her hand on my forearm with enough pressure that I know she’s preparing to ask me something. I look at her and brace myself because I already know what’s coming—I’ve been expecting it.

“You know she never meant anything she said at Christmas. She loves you, Ace, and it’s been killing her that you guys aren’t talking.”

Internally I hear a snarky voice ask if that was the case, then why hasn’t she tried reaching out to me since we all left her house. However I never expected, or even wanted my sisters to alienate her like I have. I know that although she’s not doing things in a way that I think is anywhere near right, Kitty is correct, we each have to make our own roadmaps. Knowing this is slightly different than accepting it though, and seeing the sympathy for our mom on Savannah’s face fills me with tension.

“I’ll be okay. I promise, there won’t be any scenes.”

“No, Ace, that’s not what I mean,” Savannah replies instantly, her hand constricting on my arm. “I know that you’d never create a scene. I wasn’t worried about that. I’m worried about you. I don’t want you to feel ambushed or unprepared.”

Both Kendall and Mindi stop from where they’re setting edible flowers to float in the punch, something that I tried to talk them out of. I feel my lips stretch into a smile on their own accord, which relieves me because I feel slightly lightheaded with the thought of seeing my mom. I barely slept last night as I tried to imagine how this was going to go. I have no idea what to do or say. I’m not ready to forgive her for Steven, Christmas, nor the last three months that I’ve apparently not existed to her.

“I’m okay. Really, it will be fine,” I assure her.

“Ace…” I’m the last of my sisters to turn to Kendall with her protesting tone. I can’t tell by the steely look in her eyes if she’s about to stand up to me or for me. The doorbell rings as her lips part, leaving me relieved to not find out.

Julie’s squeals fill the entire house as Mindi opens the door. “Oh my gosh! I’m so excited to see all of the Bosse women! I haven’t seen you guys together in
so
long!”

Julie was one of Jenny’s best friends growing up, which led her to becoming friends with all of us to one degree or another, but I haven’t seen her in years.

“I mean, other than the funeral, but that really doesn’t … I mean, that wasn’t…”

No, it doesn’t count. I didn’t see anyone that day.

No one seems to be able to fill the awkward blank space that Julie has created, but thankfully someone knocks on the door before it stretches too far, and Savannah clears her throat and hands me the pair of scissors left from curling the ribbon and heads to open it.

My mom is one of the last guests to arrive. My nieces surround her in a large cloud of blond chaos as the three oldest run circles around her, and the youngest two waddle into the house.
They’re walking.
I’ve missed so much.

“Auntie Ace!” Lilly shrieks, sprinting toward me wearing a tutu and princess top that is covered with sparkles. She crashes against me as a shrill scream leaves Juliet. I look up to see if she’s fallen, and realize it’s
me
that she’s screaming at. Screaming about my suckiness of being an absent aunt for the past several months.

Her accusations grow as I set Lilly down and place a hand on her small back. Sawyer begins crying in sync with her, and I turn to look at her face, crumpled in a frown.

“Sawyer, it’s okay!” I coo. Their screams of protest grow.

“It’s okay, they do this,” Mindi says as she and Savannah each sweep up a crying toddler.

Jade clasps onto Mindi’s leg, turning so she can look at me, but making it apparent with her body language that she doesn’t want me to touch her. “Mommy, who’s that again?”

“That’s your Auntie Ace. You remember Ace.”

Guilt seeps through me heavier than lead as Mindi answers questions about who I am and where I’ve been. I can feel the thoughts of those surrounding us, and every one of them intensifies my already bad mood.

“Auntie Ace, you want to play farm?” Emily asks, undeterred by the reactions I’m receiving from the youngest three.

“We’re celebrating Auntie Jenny getting married, sweetheart. We’ll play farm later.” Mindi gently guides her forward, and the girls quickly migrate to the playroom where I barely see them again.

Thankfully Jenny’s on cloud nine from the moment she arrives until the last guest leaves. Our mom was one of the first guests to excuse herself, something that only partially shocked me. She had left while I went to help Mindi check on the girls, explaining to the others that she had to go because she had an auction she was coordinating occurring tonight.

I wish it didn’t bother me so much that she hardly acknowledged me all afternoon. Or that she pretended to be the proud and doting mom when a guest that I didn’t know asked how she felt to be mother of the bride.

It’s dusk when we get back to Kendall’s. Jameson’s voice carries through the kitchen, sounding more serious than his usually happy tone. As the front door closes, a thrill of excitement and nerves sear through me as I hear a familiar voice that I wasn’t expecting. I didn’t think I’d see him while I was here, and my feet move in the direction of the kitchen before I allow myself to over think it.

My foot slips on the floor as I enter the kitchen and my arms reach out to steady myself, causing every eye to turn to me.

“Ace!” He stands up and a familiar smile covers his face as I edge closer to him, feeling my cheeks stretch with a reciprocating grin. There’s a small note of hesitancy as he reaches forward, but it smoothes before his next step, and then his arms are wrapped around me.

“Where’s Abby? I thought you guys weren’t coming back until next week?”

Jesse takes his seat, and Wes stands up and pulls me into a hug as Jesse explains that Abby went back to New Jersey by herself because he wasn’t able to get the time off work with the baby coming in a few months.

I know instantly that she didn’t tell me this because she knew I would be concerned about her travelling alone while being five months pregnant. Although I occasionally will hear a pregnant tirade, or receive a call with her in tears like the time that Jesse was at work and she was hungry, but each time she opened the fridge, something in it smelled so strong and so offensive, it made her want to throw up. Though calls like that have been far and few between, and are always followed up with additional calls and texts, assuring me that everything is fine, and not worry about her.

“How’s she doing?” I lean against Landon’s side. He slings an arm around my shoulders and offers me his beer that I refuse before leaning my head against him. Landon and I have always shared a special bond, an understanding of one another. It’s been immensely comforting to feel that little to nothing has changed in the time that I’ve been absent between us.

“She’s good, but she’s upset about missing you.”

I nod knowingly.

“How was the shower?” Jameson asks, placing a hand on Kendall’s waist and pulling her closer to where he’s seated at the kitchen table, holding a matching bottle of beer to the other three guys.

“Purple,” Kendall replies. “Really, really purple.”

Her response strikes me as funny. I know that they’re insinuating how things went with our mom, and having all of us girls together again, but they all seem to accept this response as Kendall’s eyes meet mine and a small laugh passes between us.

Before I grab my things to change for bed, I reach for my phone and find several texts from Daniel and Danny. I skip to Danny’s last one and find a message saying he won that leaves me feeling relieved.

“To accomplish great things, we must not only act, but also dream; not only plan, but also believe.”

–Anatole France

M
onday morning, I awake to the sounds of the others opening and closing doors with pained attention to being quiet in an attempt to not bother me. I try to sit back and out of the way, while assuring them that I’m fine and won’t need anything while they’re gone as they all make an effort to touch base with me once they realize I’m awake.

When Jameson closes the door behind him, leaving me alone in this house that I once was so comfortable in, I feel a myriad of emotions. Spending time alone here used to feel natural; now it feels foreign as I start focusing on all of the differences. Some of the changes are obvious at first glance, like the new pool table that now sits beside the foosball table in what is supposed to be the formal living room but has always served as a game room. And the coffee table no longer holds the blown glass bowl I’d bought as a housewarming gift. The bowl had been beautiful and a part of me wants to ask Kendall about it in hopes that it was just moved.

I slowly make my way through the house, searching for less noticeable changes—something I haven’t been able to do with Kendall around. All weekend I’d felt it, the sympathy and shyness toward anything that had to do with Max. I don’t know what they all know, or think that they do. I’m not about to begin discussing my feelings, and they seem even more reluctant.

I finish in the kitchen, noting that the glass pitcher that we’d haul out and use when we all sat down and had breakfast together was just one of the many things that I’d brought over that is no longer here.

The stairs taunt me as I pass by them to return to the living room. I’ve been dying to go upstairs and see what Max’s room looks like, and I swear it’s calling to me, daring me to go and see if it’s purged of every last piece of me as well. I pace in front of the flight of steps several times, fighting one of the strongest urges I’ve ever experienced, knowing without a doubt that if I go, it will be a strong intrusion and breach of privacy. But something inside of me pleads to go and look at what his room looks like—know if it smells the same, has the same warm glow with the late morning sunlight, see if I can find even the slightest trace of me.