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Return to Sender (Letters to Nowhere Part 2)

Page 5

by Julie Cross


  I move toward the dresser and barely touch a finger to the top of it. Then slowly, I rest my hand on the lid of my mother’s jewelry box before opening it. There’s a beautiful pair of diamond stud earrings glimmering at me. The sight of them, the sight of everything inside this room, is so much more comforting that I would have imagined. I didn’t even want to come inside; now I’m not sure if I’ll be able to leave.

  I lift the earrings out of the box and carefully place them in my own ears, checking my work in the mirror above the dresser. I follow up the earrings with a diamond-studded platinum heart necklace that my dad got Mom for Valentine’s Day years ago. He took me to the jewelry store with him to pick it out. And we did that on Valentine’s Day, so either Dad was a huge gift-buying procrastinator or he was afraid I would spill the details to Mom and ruin the surprise. I probably would have told Blair and she would have slipped in the car on the way to gym or something.

  Two gold bracelets slip over my wrist easily. Next I put on a ruby ring—my mom’s birthstone—it’s a little big but it stays in place on my index finger. Mom’s high school and college rings sit at the very bottom of the jewelry box, boasting of her National Honor society membership and her college sorority. I never saw her wear either of these rings, but I’ve looked at them before.

  Loaded down with jewelry, I walk over to Mom’s closet and open the door. I’m hit with her scent, so powerful and real, tears coming tumbling down my cheeks. I flip the light switch on and bury my face in a row of silk dresses. I squeeze my eyes shut, remembering what Jackie said last week about my letters.

  June 10

  Mom,

  You’ve been in here recently, haven’t you? It feels like you’re still here. It feels like you’re here right now.

  Love, Karen

  The waterworks are so heavy, I can’t even contemplate walking out of this room right now and facing anyone else. I wish Jordan were here. I move the dresses to the side, step behind them and slide my back down the wall until I’m seated on the plush carpet, hiding behind my mother’s clothes and engulfed in her scent. I pull my phone out of my pocket and take a deep breath before dialing Jordan’s number.

  “Hey,” he says after only one ring.

  There’s laughing and water splashing in the background. I immediately regret calling him like this and I’m too tongue-tied to say anything.

  “Karen?” he sounds worried now.

  Say something! And don’t hang up on him!

  “I’m in my mom’s closet,” I blurt out, my voice shaking with tears. I sniff and wipe my nose with the back of my hand.

  He doesn’t say anything for several seconds and then the laughing and the splashing vanishes. “Sorry, it’s noisy by the lake. Talk to me…”

  “I’m wearing twenty thousand dollars’ worth of jewelry.”

  “In the closet?”

  “Yes.” I sniff again and lift my shirt to my eyes, wiping them dry. “I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too,” he says. “Do you want to talk about the closet? Or the jewelry?”

  I shake my head and then remember that he can’t see me. “Not really.”

  “What should we talk about?”

  “I did a double double on floor today. Into the pit, but it was filled with mats.”

  “That’s… that’s…” Confusion leaks through his voice. “… insane. When did you learn a double double on floor?”

  “Last week.”

  “Karen,” his tone shifts to carefully controlled frustration, “why didn’t you tell me you were going home? I would have—”

  “Would have what? Left your job so you could hold my hand while I dig through my mom’s stuff? I didn’t want you to feel bad for not being here.”

  “I thought that was our thing. We tell each other stuff like this, right?”

  “I’m sorry.” I brush away fresh tears. “We have to get used to being apart more often than not, right?”

  He doesn’t disagree with me. He can’t. “So your Grandma’s there?”

  “For the whole damn week,” I admit.

  “And then you’re coming here.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  “Me either,” he says. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “I’m not sure. I mean… I can’t figure out what I’m feeling. I thought I’d want to run away from this house and now I don’t want to leave the closet.”

  “I’ll talk to you as long as you want. You can stay in there all night if it helps.”

  I laugh and a small amount of the sadness falls off me. “I’ll let you get back to work, okay?”

  “Promise you’ll call me back if you need anything?”

  “I promise.”

  “Hey, Karen?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I love you.”

  My eyes close and I let out a sigh. “I love you, too.”

  As soon as I hang up, footsteps softly pad across the floor outside the closet. The door opens and a small hand shoves the clothes aside. Then Blair is sitting beside me, her dark hair whipping me in the eyes.

  “How’d you find me?”

  She pulls her knees to her chest, matching my position. “I saw the empty jewelry box and figured you went in search of shoes and a dress.”

  I laugh and swipe a few tears that I’d missed earlier. “Yeah, that’s exactly why I’m sitting in a closet.”

  Blair leans her head back, closing her eyes and drawing in a deep breath. “It smells like her, doesn’t it? Like dozens and dozens of car rides from the gym or to your house. I remember sliding into the seat with you and her perfume or shampoo would be the first thing I’d notice.”

  I swallow the huge lump in my throat and rest my head on Blair’s shoulder.

  “I loved when it was your mom’s turn to pick us up, instead of mine, because she’d always ask us if we did something awesome at practice or if we got to play that game on the beam that we loved so much.”

  “Or who won the handstand contest,” I say.

  “And my mom…” she shakes her head. “God, she’s like a detective interrogating—how were your beam routines? Did you do any with the full D score?”

  “At least she doesn’t watch every practice like Ellen’s mom.”

  Her arm goes around my shoulders giving me a squeeze. “I suck at this, Karen. I’m sorry. The last thing I should be doing is complaining about my mom.”

  “It’s okay.” I reach out and run my fingers through the silky dresses again.

  Blair picks up a pair of red heels. “Let’s try something on?” She’s on her feet before I can object. She holds out her hand to help me up.

  Once I’m up, being in here doesn’t seem as overwhelming as before. I sift through the rack and choose a blue sequined mini-minidress. Blair selects a red gown to match the heels.

  We shed our T-shirts and shorts, both of us still with our practice leotards on. I zip up Blair’s dress first and then she helps me with mine. It takes a few minutes to find the perfect shoes to accompany blue sequins. After I’ve got a pair of black four-inch heels, we spend a few minutes checking ourselves out in the mirror, laughing at the ridiculousness of the dresses with our practice leotards poking out.

  Blair looks me over and says, “Now, I think we’re ready to finish your room. Just don’t trip in those heels, Bentley will kill us.”

  With a heavy heart, I abandon my parents’ room and return to packing up the remaining items from my bedroom.

  Blair tosses a soccer ball from my closet at me. “When did you play soccer?”

  I shrug. “First grade, I think.”

  “Weren’t you level five then? How did you do both?”

  I honestly can’t remember. I must have fit it in on days off from gymnastics or maybe I missed practices? All I remember is my dad running along the sidelines during the games cheering for me and the thermos of hot chocolate that my mom brought to every game and I’d drink it on the way home when it was finally cool enough to sip without burning my tongue.
>
  “I wish you were coming to gymnastics camp with me for the whole month.”

  “At least I’ll be there with you for the last week,” she says, her disappointment not even close to matching mine. “Do you ever think about doing something else? Besides gymnastics.”

  “Not really.” My hand freezes over an old pair of tennis shoes. “Do you?”

  She shrugs and crawls back into the closet.

  “What?” I press. “Finish what you were trying to say.”

  Her head pokes out again. “I love gymnastics and I don’t want to stop doing it. Now. But someday—” I open my mouth to interrupt or protest or something but she shuts me up with a stern look that says, don’t judge me. “Being a junior is awesome. There’s not an overwhelming amount of pressure because I’m not old enough to make a World or Olympic team. But this is my last year as a junior and for some reason it feels like it won’t be fun anymore, after this.”

  My mouth falls open. I have no words. Personally, I couldn’t wait to move up from juniors to seniors. Having shoulder surgery last year and only competing bars at Nationals was a disappointing start to my senior elite career. And yes, I’ve known of gymnasts who quit before their peak, but Blair… I never saw this coming. “Define ‘someday.’”

  Panic fills her expression. “I was just thinking out loud. It’s not something I want to give up anytime soon.”

  “Okay.” I don’t believe her, but there’s not much else to say.

  “Don’t tell anyone, okay?”

  I roll my eyes. “Duh.”

  Before I can really psychoanalyze Blair’s words, two people appear in the doorway—Grandma and Jackie. It takes me a few seconds to realize why they’re looking at us like we might be insane. The fancy party dresses. I guess that probably does seem odd.

  “Everything okay?” Jackie asks, studying my face.

  “Yeah, we’re almost done in here,” Blair answers for me.

  My gaze bounces from Jackie to Grandma. “Can we… you know, keep all of their stuff?”

  Grandma takes a deep breath and nods. “Of course. I can make arrangements for a rental storage unit.”

  “Thank you.” I’m so relieved. I thought we’d have to pick and choose what to keep and get rid of today. Jackie must have known this already, but then again, the house won’t be mine anymore and this is the last week for me to walk around inside and see it as I remembered it.

  “I’d like for us to have dinner tonight, if that’s all right with you, Karen?”

  Jackie shifts her gaze from Grandma to me, quirking an eyebrow trying to get me to respond.

  “Um, yeah, that sounds… great.”

  Grandma turns her back to us, but calls over her shoulder, “We need to discuss your relationship with the coach’s son.”

  My face goes completely red and I look to Blair for help, but I know there’s nothing she can do to get me out of this awkward dinner talk. I can see it now. Grandma, about that healthy and normal living situation you left me in… it’s turned a bit unconventional.

  Oh yeah, this is gonna be a blast.

  chapter ten

  Jordan

  KAREN: shld be there in 5 min

  JORDAN: Awesome! Meet you in the main office.

  I toss a few Advil in my mouth and swallow them dry; the prickle of my returning cactus throat causes me to wince.

  “Dude.” TJ smacks me in the chest with the back of his hand. “Check out that blond chick. Where has she been for the last two weeks?”

  I turn in the direction TJ is looking and see the curvy blonde, rolling a suitcase down the walkway toward the office. My heart jumps up into my throat, my stomach twisting in knots. “Oh shit.”

  I glance around, looking for a bush to dive behind or something, but it’s too late.

  She stops about ten feet from us, resting her suitcase upright and folding her arms across her chest. “Jordan.”

  “Liberty.” My wary tone holds none of the firm confidence hers does. God, I’m a wuss.

  TJ’s eyebrows are up so high they’re practically touching his hairline. His gaze bounces between the two of us. “So… you guys know each other?”

  Liberty rolls her eyes. “So cliché.”

  “Uh, yeah, Liberty…” I clear my throat and watch a second van pull up in front of the office. Karen. “Worked here last summer, too.”

  She snorts back a laugh but turns her attention to the new arrivals climbing out of the van. Thank God for the distraction.

  “You totally hooked up with her,” TJ whispers under his breath. “Didn’t you?”

  I scrub my hands over my face. Yes. I hooked up with her. But that was last summer. “Where have you been the past two weeks?” I figured she wasn’t working here this summer when I’d seen she wasn’t at staff training.

  “My sister got married. I was in the wedding,” Liberty says, her eyes still on the special guests. “Why did no one tell me that Stevie Davis and Karen Campbell would be here this summer? Talk about fangirl heaven. I so need my autograph book.” She’s busy digging in her backpack and doesn’t notice Karen walk right past her.

  The awkward moment bursts the second I get my arms around Karen, lifting her off the ground. I bury my face in her hair and kiss her cheek at least half a dozen times before setting her down.

  Her arms are still tight around my neck, her forehead touching mine when she says, “I can’t let you go to college. I think you need to ditch that plan and hang out with me all the time instead.”

  “You’re right. I don’t need higher education with you winning all these big meets. We can live off your endorsements and prize money, right?”

  Karen laughs. “You mean that prize money I turned down to keep my NCAA eligibility intact?”

  I lean down and kiss her nose. “You have some new freckles.” I plant a couple kisses under her eye. “At least four.”

  “I went to the pool with Blair yesterday,” she says, looking my face over carefully. “And you have a tan. That’s so unfair. I get freckles and you get dark and handsome.”

  Both of us suddenly become aware of several pairs of staring eyes, zooming in on us. I pull Karen’s arms from around my neck and turn her around to face TJ.

  “This is my roommate, TJ,” I say, avoiding Liberty’s gaze. “TJ, Karen.”

  “The girlfriend.” He gives her a quick nod, then his gaze travels to Stevie and a few of the other senior girls that arrived together. “You guys are the ones taking up gym three from six to nine thirty every morning for the next month.”

  “I don’t know, are we?” She glances over her shoulder at me for confirmation.

  I’m not sure what kind of workout schedule Nina Jones has planned for them, but I can assume TJ’s concerned that they’re moving in on his territory. He’s been working out early every morning in gym three.

  “Let’s get your stuff and find your cabin.” I tug Karen’s hand and pull her toward the van and away from TJ and Liberty.

  A few minutes later, I’m hauling her and Stevie’s suitcases toward my cabin. They’ve been assigned the empty room on the left side.

  “Does Nina really have us working out at six in the morning?” Karen asks, stepping around mud puddles from last night’s rainstorm.

  “She might not have a choice. Campers start warm-ups at nine and rotations at nine thirty.”

  “Six is not that different from seven,” Stevie says. “Of course, I’m sure she’s got us scheduled for another four hours in the afternoon.”

  I open the door and let them step inside first. Both girls glance in the direction of the room TJ and I are sharing before settling in their empty one.

  “Top or bottom bunk?” Karen asks Stevie, who immediately points to the top.

  Two more of the senior national team girls come inside, too, rolling their own suitcases and heading for the back room, which is three times the size of our rooms but sleeps four. Stevie heads over to the girls to say hi, and after tossing Karen’s luggage onto the
bottom bunk, I grab her hand and pull her out the door, taking advantage of the opportunity to sneak away.

  “I’ll give you the grand tour.” I flash her a grin and she quickly slides in front of me, heading away from the other girls even faster than me.

  “God, I need a gymnastics mental break.” Karen rubs her temples, closing her eyes briefly. “Two flights with Stevie talking strategy, code of points, and difficulty scores is a bit much. How’s it going here? Your roommate seems…”

  “What?” I tease, leading her away from the cabins, towards the gyms. “Don’t tell me you’re going to swoon over him like every other female staff member?”

  She glares at me. “I’ve never swooned in my life. He seems bitter about the whole schedule issue, that’s all I was going to say.”

  I toss an arm around her shoulder and kiss her cheek. “I was kidding. TJ’s all right. Don’t worry about him.” That’s pretty much all I could say. Explaining TJ is a daunting task. I’m not really sure what his deal is, but we’ve had some fun together in the past couple weeks. He kept quiet during most of the training and he observed other coaches all of last week. Campers arrive tomorrow for the new week and he’ll be coaching tumbling on his own. “So what happened with your grandma?”

  She shrugs. “She was a little bit easier to deal with than I expected. I think she wants to see me more, to talk more. We had dinner together almost every night and went shopping a couple times. Maybe it’s all sinking in now for her, you know? I’m her only family.”

  “That’s good, right?” I sense some concealed information between her words. “You never told me the rest of the story with her impending inquisition, did you guys end up talking about—”

 

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