by Mia Castile
“This was Anna’s; it was important to her, so it’s important to the children,” Mitchel stated matter-of-factly. Oliver looked at me, and something on my face must have changed his mind. He simply shrugged and reached for the box already in Mitchel ‘s hands. I was next. We took the boxes and stacked them inside the living room. Alex arrived and helped us finish unloading. Oliver made the decision to get rid of his furniture immediately, so they loaded it into the truck and took it to donate as Mitchel and I finished unloading the rest of the boxes. While they were gone, Mitchel lowered the red sports car from the back of the U-Haul.
“Fol ow me to the truck rental place, so I don’t get charged for an extra day.” He tossed me the keys. After we returned it, we arrived back just as Oliver and Alex did, too. Alex and I went into the living room and began cleaning and sweeping and mopping the wooden floor so that we could arrange the furniture. Oliver went to work in the dining room doing the same thing and sharing the tools. Mitchel went to the phone book and ordered pizza. Then we looked at the boxes sitting in the corner. There were about twenty of them, and they began to look overwhelming. How could you measure someone’s life in boxes? It seemed like that was what had happened. This was what was left of the memories of my mother, of our life together. This was it.
The pizza came, and we sat around the too-familiar table in the too-familiar room but in two very different ways. Mitchel tossed Alex the keys to his car. Alex looked up at him questioningly.
“Gia told me how much that big truck is unreliable and scares her to drive. I thought this might give you better gas mileage and be a little more fun.” He looked at Oliver. Oliver looked down at his slice of pizza.
“Mitchel , it’s too much,” I said, embarrassed.
“No, it’s not. You two deserve it. You have to share it, you know. I couldn’t afford two cars.” He smiled at me as he reached and squeezed my hand.
“Thanks Mitchel ,” Alex said, shaking the keys at me.
“Yeah, thanks,” I added. Final y, I excused myself and went to my room to finish my homework.
I stood at the side of my bed and dumped my bag on the bed. I knew there were some papers in the bottom that I needed to toss. My bag had become a magnet for loose papers. I separated the algebra notes from the history ones. I put the papers that were trash into a pile. I set my books over to the side, and then I saw it, a folded piece of paper. I had completely forgotten about it. The day after I broke up with Travis, he’d put a note in my locker. I’d stuffed it into my bag because I was running late, planning to read it later, but I hadn’t. I had forgotten al about it. Here it was in my hand again. I sat down on the edge of my bed and opened it.
I couldn’t believe what I read. He loved me? Was it true? Was this the sign that I had waited for? And could it have been so easy? I wanted to cry, this time tears of joy, but they didn’t come either. I grabbed my phone, and I texted Travis.
U home?
Yeah what’s up?
Can I come over?
There was a long pause.
Sure.
I had to tel him. I had to tel him I read his note and that I thought I might love him, too. I surveyed myself in the mirror and decided to change my shirt, refresh my makeup, and pul my hair into a ponytail. Then I put on the green hoodie with his number on it. I took the note and put it in my back pocket. As I descended the stairs, I heard voices in the dining room. I stood there a moment and listened. They were speaking in a hushed tone.
“I did my time, turning myself in when she filed charges. I continued my therapy even after the court dissolved it. I think I’ve proven how much I love them by al owing them to walk away from me. It kil ed me and made me see how much they real y did mean to me. I even did what you asked. When she cal ed me to ask my permission to al ow you to adopt them, I told her no. You didn’t even tel me my wife was sick. You only cal ed me after she died. Those two are better off without me in their lives. But I guess they would do better without you in their lives more. You are no longer welcome in this house.”
“I’m offering you help. I can’t stand to look at them. Gia looks like her, and Alex reminds me of you. They aren’t mine; they never were. Anna was mine. That was it. The day she died, she didn’t even tel me goodbye. She only spoke to them. Maybe she didn’t love me anyway, but I can’t be near them anymore. I don’t want to have any contact with them either. I’ve changed my numbers and my personal email account. You either take my money or you don’t. It’s your decision.” Mitchel had an edge in his voice I’d never heard before. I sank to the step. What did he mean we weren’t his? He had been the father Oliver never had been, hadn’t he?
“I don’t need your kind of help. Alex has made me proud, and I wil pay for his and Gia’s schooling even if I have to remortgage the house. They wil be better than Anna and me.” Oliver was firm.
“Your loss. I’ve set up the money from the sale of her house in a trust fund for them. It’s theirs anyway; she wil ed it to them. She left me with nothing.
Here.” I heard a stack of papers hit the table.
“Why are you doing this?” I heard the keys hit the table, too. “You don’t care about the children; so why are you giving so much? Do you feel guilty?”
“This was hers; it’s theirs. I owe them that much.” He stil had the bitter edge to his voice. He let out a deep sigh. I didn’t pity him though. “My flight leaves in two hours.”
“Do you want me to cal the children down?” I heard the chairs scoot.
“No, we’ve already said our goodbyes.” We hadn’t. Oliver walked him to the door. They didn’t see me for al the boxes beside the stairs. But I saw them. He left without another word, and Oliver shut the door. He turned to come up the stairs and saw me sitting there, an empty expression on my face.
“OH, my Gia, I’m sorry mia bella, that you had to hear that.” He walked up the stairs, patting my head as he passed me. He hadn’t cal ed me that since I was a toddler.
“You would have let us go? And you would have let Mitchel adopt us?” I didn’t turn; I just asked him accusingly.
“Yes.” He sat down a few steps higher than me. “I was never good to you or your mother. Back then I felt the world owed me something. I was angry at your mother. There is no excuse for the awful things I did to her. I drank too much. I was a monster. The three of you deserved better than I could ever be. I’l never make up for it, but I can only try not to be that man again.” I didn’t turn around. I didn’t want him to see my face.
“I need to go out for a bit, is that OK?” I looked down at my hands.
“Yes, Gia, but please keep your phone on you.” Then he added, “Take the car. I would rather you didn’t walk around.” At this, I did turn to look at him and shook my head. “No, I don’t want anything from him.” I stood and went down the stairs. I turned on the porch light and closed the front door. I walked down the quiet street and over two blocks. Travis was sitting on his front steps, watching for me. I was pretty sure he saw me before I saw him, but as I approached, he stood to meet me.
Chapter 19
If Your Eyes Are the Window to Your Soul, Are Your Lips the Window to My Heart?
Travis
I didn’t know exactly what it meant that she was wearing my hoodie, but I liked seeing my number on her. I met her under a street lamp. She didn’t say anything. She walked up, stopping intimately close to me and then put her arms around my waist holding me close to her. She buried her face in my sweatshirt. I put my arms around her and held tightly for the quiet moments. Final y, she looked up at me. I couldn’t read her expression.
“Hey, what’s going on?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, especial y if it were bad. I was reveling in this moment.
“I had an interesting night.” She let go of me but took my hand, and I led her toward my front porch again. This time we went to the porch swing. We sat down with space between us. She sat at an angle so she could look at me. She told me about Mitchel . She told me about how her heart
broke when she learned of his true feelings for Alex and her. Then when I thought she would begin to cry, she looked at me, uncertain. She sat there quietly for a long moment.
“Go on,” I encouraged.
“I love you, too,” she barely whispered. I sucked in my breath. I wasn’t prepared for that. “That’s what I wanted to tel you when I texted you. I found your note.” She reached into her pocket and pul ed it out. “I actual y read it tonight for the first time, and I’m sorry Travis. I, I…” she trailed off and looked across the street at a darkened house. I scooted closer to her, pul ing her into my embrace.
“I love you,” I breathed into her ear. She looked up at me, and her fingers traced my lips. Without even thinking about it, I pul ed her up to me and kissed her. I kissed her deeply. I kissed her desperately. I kissed her long. When I let her final y breathe, she looked at me dizzily.
“I missed you, too,” she said softly, leaning her head against my chest.
“I’m sorry for the whole mess of things. If I’d have known, I would have never taken you to that dance. I would have taken you somewhere else.
Anywhere else,” I sighed.
“I’m sorry, too, that I listened to Jil ian and Chiz. I should have come to you and trusted you.” I smoothed her hair. “I doubted myself, and I doubted you.”
“You don’t have to say anything else. It’s over.” I pul ed her tighter to me, unwil ing to let her go.
“I do, though, because I moved here and didn’t expect to find anyone like you. But I did, and I threw it away so fast. I’m sorry.” She held onto me, too.
“What are you going to tel Chiz? He’l feel betrayed because you told him you didn’t want to see anyone,” I laughed. She pul ed away from me and looked at me, scrutinizing. My face suddenly turned red. I stammered, “I, I mean…”
“Shut up.” She mock-slapped me on the shoulder and laughed, “I knew you two were up to something when he came over.” She smiled, and it was the smile I remembered, the one I had been lost without the past few weeks.
“I have boxes to go through; wil you help me tomorrow?” She pul ed her feet up on the swing and shifted so that she was leaning against me, more comfortable in my arms. I began to rock us back and forth in the swing.
“Mm-hmm,” I nodded. I twined my fingers in hers, and she kissed each of my fingers. I wasn’t sure how much longer we sat out there, but eventual y my mom turned on the porch light, signaling that it was time to come in. I ran in long enough to tel her I was walking Gia home. And we did, hand in hand. I walked her up the stairs to her front door, and there under the light I kissed her goodnight. I wished her sweet dreams and turned to walk back home.
I made it to the corner of the street when a monster truck pul ed up beside me. I knew the truck and the driver. Chiz rol ed down his window.
“Were you kissing my girl just then?” He leaned over and looked at me accusingly.
“I don’t think she ever went out with you to be your girl, but yes, I was kissing Gia. We made up tonight. Sorry. That means we’re back together.” I kept walking as he rol ed beside me along the curb.
“What lies did you tel her to convince her to take your sorry ass back? That when you kissed Jil it didn’t mean anything?” I shrugged but kept looking straight ahead. I didn’t owe him any explanation. “She deserves better than you.” I heard him put the truck in park. I kept walking past his truck.
“That’s her decision to make,” I said, as he rounded the corner of his truck and was standing in front of me, both hands in fists. “Whatever you and Jil had planned, it didn’t work. I love her and she loves me, and there’s nothing you two can do about that.” I was ready for whatever he was about to unleash on me.
“You just can’t escape your attraction to Jil . You’re going to break Gianna’s heart, and I wil be there to pick it up, whether you like it or not. She and I have this chemistry. It’s like I know when she’s near; I feel it.” He trailed off and looked a little crazy in his eyes.
“Whatever, dude. Just stay away from her. I think you’re better matched with Jil if you ask me, but stay away from Gianna.” I moved past him.
He stood there stoical y for a moment. Then he turned to me and said, “You’l see. I’l be there to pick up her broken heart.” He walked back to his truck and took off, peeling out away from the curb.
We picked up where we left off the next day. I walked her to as many classes as I could, and we sat by each other as much as we could. We carried on conversations in hushed tones that no one else took part in. We were more affectionate than we had left off because every chance I got I pul ed her into corners and kissed her. I couldn’t stop kissing her. I didn’t want to stop kissing her. She would giggle and push me away, only to pul me back to her with the same motion, kissing me.
After practice, I drove Alex home, and we came in to find dinner ready for us. Oliver was there, too. It wasn’t as tense as it had been in the past. He slapped me on the back, welcoming me back. Alex looked at him curiously, but I just smiled.
I helped Gianna carry four boxes up to her room. We began to go through them. They were things she’d left at her home in Indiana. One box was ful of sheet music. I flipped through a folder that said “favorites” on the cover with drawings al over it—roses, daisies, and other flowers I didn’t recognize. She took it from me and flipped through it. I leaned over her shoulder and peered at al the squiggly lines. I wondered how any of it could make sense. Gia paused over one song cal ed “Hero/Heroine. ” Her fingers traced the notes as if they were Brail e and she was reading them. I stood and got her dusty guitar case and brought it to her. She sat there and just watched me. I sat it on the floor, opened the case, and handed the guitar to her. She took it and sat the folder aside. She put the strap over her shoulder and tuned it, looking nervously at me. Then the introduction to the song strummed from the guitar. Gia made her guitar sing. It was a familiar tune, and she played it precisely; then she sang. Her voice was soft but in perfect key. It had a raspy tone to it that made the moment feel surprisingly intimate.
She stopped singing when she reached the chorus, and playing as she turned and looked at me. “‘Boys Like Girls,’ one of my favorites, but you already knew that.” She looked down at her guitar. “Thanks.”
“For what?” I smiled and leaned back against her wal .
“For being you.” She took off her guitar and placed it back in its case. Then she pul ed out a shoe box with a lid on it from another box. She opened it and dumped a bunch of old pictures out. We looked through them and laughed as she told me stories behind them. Then she held one up with a concentrated look on her face.
“This one,” she began, showing me a picture of a much younger Oliver holding a young Alex in his arms and her mother holding her, “was taken by my grandfather. It was the last time we visited him in Atlanta.” She traced the faces. “He took this picture right before we left. That was the last time I saw him, too. He died a few months later of a massive heart attack. We didn’t have the money for al of us to go to the funeral, so only my mother went. I barely remember him.” She looked up at me and asked, “Do you think in ten years I’l look at these again and barely remember my mother? I don’t want to forget her, but already sometimes I find myself trying hard to remember her expressions and her voice, and I can’t.” She looked past me then out the now-darkened window.
“I think that if you let your mind wander in those moments and try not to be so desperate for her, the memories wil find you and remind you of what you’re looking for. It’s hard to imagine something if you’ve put a lot of pressure on yourself to do so.” I patted her hand and found another picture and asked her about it.
After we put up some of her pictures on the wal s and she stacked boxes on top of the already cluttered shelf in her closet, we went to Alex’s room and kept him company while he put things away in his room. I sat on his bed and Gianna leaned against his dresser as he moved things around.
“Gia wants to sel ou
r car; can you believe that?” he asked me but looked at Gia.
“We could buy something just as reliable and less flashy. It makes sense, maybe something that can carry the whole clan at one time like Mason’s SUV.” She shrugged.
“Or a minivan.” He rol ed his eyes as he put some trophies up on his shelf in the corner. He surveyed the rest of his boxes stil half ful .
“I should just put al this stuff in the attic or the basement. My room at home,” he paused and looked at her, “or in Indiana, was a lot bigger than this.
She nodded, agreeing with him.
“We stil have to go through Mom’s stuff.” She looked down at the ring on her hand.
“We should take what we want and donate everything else. There’s too much stuff.” He plopped down on his bed beside me.
“I don’t know if I should be here while you guys go through your mom’s stuff,” I stated, suddenly feeling like I was watching a very private moment.
“Travis, I couldn’t do this without you.” She walked over to where I sat and stood in front of me. I pul ed her onto my lap, and she draped her hand around my shoulder.
“I hate to admit it, dude, but I don’t think I could either.” Alex shrugged. “This is a lot to deal with on our own.” He stood and began consolidating boxes. “If we’re going to do this, then let’s do this,” he added, as he stacked and carried them out of the room. We fol owed him downstairs where Gia and I began carrying boxes upstairs.
We began with the ones that said “clothes.” She went through and held up her mother’s designer clothes to herself. It seemed that they were similar in size. Her mother must have been a very smal woman. I wondered how strong she must have real y been to have survived and how she overcame such obstacles. I wondered if I were in a similar situation if I would have been so strong.
In the end Gia took only a few of her cocktail dresses and some of her shoes. She marked out “clothes” and wrote “donate.” The next box was ful of jewelry. Alex picked a few pieces out. Then they came across one of Mitchel ‘s watches. Gia tried to get Alex to take it, but he wouldn’t. She held it out to me. I looked at it.