The Lost Years

by Stacey Ritz

  Telling Milo the truth about her dad meant admitting reality; he was a drunk. And most of the time, a mean one. She hadn’t been ready to admit that, not then. Yet, now that she had, she felt an invisible weight leave her shoulders. Simply knowing that Milo knew the truth somehow freed her. It freed her from the shame she’d been carrying. And it freed her from her years of desperate attempts to bury the past, to forget it and move forward to something new. A true friend, Rainie understood, was one of the best gifts life has to offer. How had she pushed Milo aside for this long? She switched the topic from her coin collection to Milo’s baseball card collection. “Do you still have it?” She asked.

  “I do. It’s stored away in my attic.”

  “Your favorite card was always that old Johnny Bench card. Do you still have that one?”

  He nodded, showcasing his prominent dimples. “Of course. It will always be my favorite.” He turned to look at her when he said the words. His eyes on hers made Rainie’s pulse begin to race.

  Milo wanted to tell Rainie how much he’d missed her. He wanted to tell her that no one had ever compared to her, no one ever would. He wanted to take her in his arms and ask her what she wanted in life. He wanted to know if she was happy. He wanted to know everything. Suddenly, he felt desperate to make up for lost time. But instead of saying this, he said, “Are you ready for the release?”

  Rainie’s eyes glistened beneath the moonlight. “Ready!” She guessed they were going to dump the bucket over and watch the ghost crabs scurry across the beach in every direction. She was sure Buddy would bark and pounce as they scattered, a game he clearly enjoyed.

  “There’s one catch…” Milo grinned.

  “And that’s…?” Rainie stood across from him, her hands on her hips.

  “My brothers and I did this the first summer we vacationed here. Now it’s your turn.”

  “What’s…” she dragged out the word, “my turn?” Rainie’s forehead crinkled.

  “You stand there, under the umbrella.”

  Rainie pointed at the sideways structure.

  Milo nodded. “Perfect.”

  “And?”

  “And I’ll release the ghost crabs on the count of three. It’s sort of a game of ‘Chicken’. I’ll stand across from you. And we have to stand still while the crabs dash across our feet. Are you in?”

  “I’m in.” She smiled in delight. Rainie sunk her feet into the sand, squirming her toes firmly between the light grains, hoping she could hold still the entire time. She knew Milo would be fine. After all, he’d done this before.

  “One…two…three!” He gently tipped the bucket over between them, smiling as the crabs eagerly returned to their natural habitat. As expected, the crabs darted back and forth across both of their feet. Buddy barked and pounced, his tail wagging with absolute bliss. As the last of the twelve crabs scurried into darkness, Rainie raised her arms in the air.

  “I did it!”

  “I’m impressed.”

  Rainie pretended to primp at her hair and then took a bow. “Thank you, thank you.” She waved her arms in the air. Buddy ran to her and licked her cheek. “That was fun.” She told Milo as she began walking by his side. They were now heading north on the beach, back toward where they’d started. They walked in silence for a while, both lost in distant thoughts. The flashlights lessened and the stars grew brighter as the number of other ghost crab searchers dwindled. The moon rose higher in the sky as they neared their starting point.

  “Buddy is going to be pickled out.” Rainie teased, breaking the silence between them.

  “You’re not going to stop with this pickle thing, are you?” Milo smiled at her.

  She shook her head.

  “Rainie,” Milo reached for her hands. “I still have feelings for you.” His voice was nearly a whisper.

  Rainie reached forward, feeling her lips press against his; familiar, yet new. She tasted the depth of their past and the lightness of hope in his kiss. So much was said in unspoken moments. Rainie ran her fingers through his short dark hair, something she’d done a million times a lifetime ago. Something she’d taken for granted then, yet it felt invigorating now.

  She opened her mouth to respond in words, when at the same moment, Milo’s phone rang from his pocket.

  “Sorry…I thought I’d turned it on silent.” He shook his head.

  “Go ahead,” Rainie smiled, reaching down to pet Buddy who sat eagerly at her feet, hoping for a treat.

  Milo handed her a handful of dog treats from his pocket. “Are you sure?”

  She laughed, “I’m sure.”

  Pulling his phone from his pocket, Milo studied the screen and picked up quickly. “Hi Vanessa…can I call you back in a bit?” He turned from Rainie, rushing his words and bowing his head. A moment later he hung up from the call.

  Rainie couldn’t stop the train of thoughts from snaking through her head once again. Who was Vanessa? Yes, she’d told him to take the call, but she hadn’t known it would be her. Tears welled in her eyes. She had no right to be upset, logically, she knew that. She didn’t know who Vanessa was for goodness sakes. Yet, she couldn’t restrain her feelings now. Milo was about to say ‘Sorry’ again as he dropped his phone back into his pocket and turned to Rainie, smiling. But before he could say the word, Rainie started to run. She realized it might look childish, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t help it. She had to get away. And anyway, she felt child-like again, spending time with Milo. And hadn’t she read that when you spent time with people from your past you reverted to how you were then? Is that what she wanted? She’d worked hard to escape her past. She loved her life in Lexington. She loved her work and what she’d built. What did she think she was doing now?

  She continued running as fast as she could. At first, three-legged Buddy kept up with her pace. She heard Milo calling after her and then eventually calling Buddy’s name. Although Buddy and Rainie were both running, the difference was, one of them stopped and turned around, running back to Milo’s pleas, and it wasn’t Rainie.

  〜

  “How are things with Andrew?” Rainie joined her sister on the porch swing of their yellow beach house. The sun was in its full glory, there wasn’t a single cloud in sight to compete with its brightness. Seagulls cawed in the distance, they were true expert fisherman, hovering above the ocean waves, hoping to catch a meal.

  Ronnie had her feet propped up on a stool in front of the swing, a book on her lap. “Self-care is how you take your power back.”

  Rainie looked at her little sister, wondering why she sounded robotic. “Okay…” She smiled. When she looked down at the book in Ronnie’s lap she nodded. It was a self-help book. Ronnie was taking matters into her own hands. It was only a book, Rainie knew, but if it helped Ronnie feel more powerful and confident, she was all for it. And she knew from her own experience that one line in a book could change your life. Whether big or small, reading that one line at the right time had the power to transform you. Rainie had always admired authors for that superpower. What was the quote, “A drop of ink, may make a million think?” She was pretty sure that’s how it went. The quote should add, and feel.

  “Good book?” Ronnie nodded eagerly. “You probably remember…I hate confrontations.”

  Rainie’s brow furrowed. “Are we about to have one?”

  Rolling her eyes, Ronnie laughed. “No…” She dragged out the O.

  “Okay.” Rainie was succinct with her reply. She’d let Ronnie get to her point in her own time, she wouldn’t rush her.

  The two girls sat on the porch swing, looking out at the expansive aquamarine ocean. Children were jumping in the waves. A few surfers attempted to ride the waves. Parents rubbed sunscreen on their kids. Pairs of little ones used their colorful plastic buckets to build various versions of sandcastles along the shore. A blend of chatting, laughter, seagulls and crashing waves permeated the air. The smell of saltwater filled their nostrils. The view from the porch swing at the yellow beach house afforde
d an elixir for any problem, Rainie thought. Sit here long enough, take in the sights, smells and sounds, take in the gentle ocean breeze against your skin and you’d be healed. If only… Rainie unknowingly let out a sigh.

  “I should have seen it earlier…with Andrew.” Ronnie’s voice interrupted the illusion of utopia. Rainie directed her attention toward her sister, knowing she needed her. “I think we choose to be blind to things sometimes. Maybe deep down we know it’s an issue that’s too hard to face and we try to push it away as long as we can.” Ronnie sniffed, straightening her back. “I wish we could stay right here, forever.”

  Rainie wanted to agree. It was beautiful in Corolla. It was nice to have a break from the backbreaking routine at home, no matter how much she loved her work. But instead, she said, “Can you imagine bringing all my animals here? Talk about Noah’s Ark.”

  Ronnie laughed, and Rainie felt she’d accomplished a small triumph. She hated seeing her little sister hurting.

  “I think property here is a little too expensive for the sanctuary…”

  “And the hurricanes would blow us all away.” They laughed simultaneously, not because what they’d said had been particularly funny. It hadn’t been. They’d both simply needed a laugh. They’d needed to know that the other was there for them. And somehow, through their nonsensical words, the message was being conveyed.

  A few minutes later, Rainie added, “Paradise isn’t perfect.” They looked out at the scene that played before them. Happy families playing on the beach. A runner bounding down the shoreline. A seagull proudly carrying away his next meal from the ocean. It certainly was magical. “Nothing is.”

  Ronnie sat back, crossing her legs and thinking about it for a moment. “But it sure is beautiful here.”

  “You’ve got that right.” Rainie couldn’t argue with her. “How about some chocolate cake? Mama made a fresh one last night, I saw it on the counter.”

  “I’d love some.”

  Rainie hopped up from the swing, pulling herself from the blissful view, not wanting to leave, but knowing she needed to. “I’ll be back.” She disappeared through the glass doors and headed to the kitchen.

  She’d wanted to turn off her phone today, but knew she couldn’t due to Rebecca’s calls about the sanctuary. Rebecca had continued to keep her informed about the on-goings on the farm and to Rainie’s surprise, everything continued to run smoothly. Milo had called this morning. Rainie let it go to voicemail. She’d sprinted away from him the night before. Literally sprinting, resembling a child throwing a temper-tantrum. She was both mortified and terrified. Mortified about her display of immaturity and terrified about why she’d behaved that way. She was a grown woman for goodness sakes! She ran a non-profit. She was respected by her community. Yet, there she’d been, running away from her best friend, from her high school sweetheart, after a night she’d thoroughly enjoyed. And why had she run? Not run, sprinted. Her heart was pounding by the time she reached the beach house. The night breeze hadn’t cooled her. Instead, beads of sweat covered her face and soaked her back. She wasn’t sure she knew the answer. All she knew for sure was that she’d ran and she wasn’t ready to talk to Milo yet.

  Rainie carried two generous slices of cake out to the deck. Ronnie smiled in anticipation, closing her book and tossing it on the ground. She eagerly reached her arms forward to accept the cake. “Who needs self-help books when you have Mama’s chocolate cake?” Rainie took a seat beside her sister.

  “And how are things with you and Milo?” Ronnie smiled broadly. “At least someone has some happiness…” Rainie cut her off before she could continue. She shoved a bite of chocolate cake into her mouth after saying, “Let’s see if Mama’s chocolate cake can fix everything…I’m willing to eat as much as we can. Are you with me?”

  “I’m with you.” Ronnie jabbed a bite into her own mouth. “I’m totally with you.” She said with a full mouth, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. “After all, what are sisters for?”

  〜

  “I buy the food, I pay the bills…the least you can do, Dan, is feed the cat.” Rainie had once heard her mom tell this to her dad. Rainie had exactly one pet growing up. Not what you’d expect for someone who opened a farm sanctuary years later.

  Rainie remembered her dad’s spiteful reply, “You think you’re high and mighty? Who brings in the money to pay those bills?”

  Even as a child, Rainie knew those words cut right to her mama’s heart. The reference to money, implying that she was worthless for only taking care of him, took a piece of her soul every time he said them. Rainie was aware Dan knew that. He knew the power behind his bitter statements and he used it to his advantage.

  Sarah-Jayne had wanted to get a job outside of the house. Once, she brought home a job application for JC Penny, a department store. Another time she’d wanted to go to a two year college to become a dental hygienist. Rainie knew there were no other attempts. Every time she expressed an interest, Dan said “No.” He said, “Absolutely not, Sarah-Jayne.” And Rainie’s mama had bowed her head and walked away. Now that she was an adult herself, Rainie realized her mama should have never asked permission, she should have done what she’d wanted. Then again, Rainie wasn’t privy to the price her mama would have paid had she behaved that way.

  Of course, Dan hardly ever remembered to feed Lucy the cat. She was a sweet calico feline with the kindest meow. She’d rub back and forth against Rainie and Ronnie’s legs every morning before they left for school. She’d curl up in a ball at the end of their beds during the night. Rainie had been the one to find her while she played in the backyard, building a fort in the old apple tree. The tired tree’s limbs fell to the ground on occasion, it’s bark flaky and dry. Lucy had wandered up to Rainie while she was playing. Rainie was pretending to be a fairy and when the cat sauntered up to her, her eyes widened as she asked, “Are you a fairy, too?” The cat meowed until Rainie agreed to pet her. And when Rainie brought her a handful of chicken scraps from the refrigerator, the cat purred with delight. The next day, the cat came back again. She came back every day for a week until Rainie named her Lucy and brought her inside, begging her mom to take her to buy a litter box and proper cat food.

  When Rainie and Ronnie had to hide beneath their bed during those moments when Dan entered a fit of rage, the effects of the all-mighty bottle, Rainie always grabbed Lucy and took her with them. She’d purr against Rainie’s shoulder as she carried her. Rainie thought it was as if Lucy were whispering a secret in her ear, “Hang on. Everything’s going to be okay,” she’d imagine her saying. When Ronnie would get upset, Rainie would offer Lucy to her and Lucy would calmly curl up in her little sister’s lap, quieting Ronnie every time. Rainie knew Lucy was magic from the first day they’d met beneath the apple tree.

  Four years after Lucy the calico had become part of their lives, Rainie came home from school to find the front door left open. Dan was sitting in his chair, a lit cigarette dangling from his lips. The heavy curtains were drawn in the living room, the volume on the television was deafening and her mom was nowhere in sight. She turned to Ronnie and told her to go to her room and change her clothes. As Ronnie trotted off, Rainie looked at the ground where her mom’s sneakers always sat. They were missing. She must be out for a run, Rainie reasoned. She quietly walked to the T.V. and turned down the volume, fairly sure her dad wouldn’t budge from his comatose state. She was right. Once she regained the gift of sound, she began searching the house for Lucy. “Lucy!” Rainie called, peering under couches and blankets, hoping to find her cat curled in a ball, snoozing.

  With each additional call for Lucy, Rainie grew more frantic. What if she’d gotten out? What if she’d run away? How would she find her? She looked at Dan as she passed through the room again in her search. She pinched her fingers together over the hot cigarette dangling from his lips and pressed it into the ash tray. She couldn’t believe he’d never caught their house or himself on fire. “Lucy!” She called again, her heart beginning
to race. She checked her bedroom and Ronnie’s. No sign of Lucy. She checked the laundry room, the kitchen, the bathroom. Sometimes Lucy liked to nap on top of the floor vent when the heat turned on.

  “Where’s Lucy?” Ronnie exited her room, having changed into a sweatshirt and jeans.

  “I don’t know yet.” Rainie answered, running down the stairs and out the front door. She searched the front yard and the back yard. She walked through the neighbor’s lawns, too. “Lucy! Here kitty, kitty! Lucy!” She ran back inside, grabbing a handful of lunchmeat in the palm of her hands and clasping her fingers into a fist. Lucy was an innocent creature. She depended on them for food and shelter. She trusted them. Whenever Rainie wasn’t at school or with Milo, she was with Lucy. “Lucy! Where are you? Lucy!” Her cries grew desperate.

  It wasn’t until she peered over the fence in her neighbor’s backyard that she found her. Only, she wasn’t moving. She wasn’t curled in a ball, rather, she was stretched out on her side. And, wait…what was that? She had a wound. She had a cut! She was bleeding. Rainie jumped the fence, sprinted to her cat and knelt by her side in the middle of the road. She didn’t think to look for cars, she wanted to scoop Lucy up in her arms and take her home. She wanted to clean her wound and feed her the lunchmeat she had clenched in her hand. “Lucy!” Rainie picked her up from the street and carried her back to the grass, cradling her limp body against her own. At eleven years old, Rainie’s young mind didn’t understand what was happening. “Hang on Lucy, you’re going to be okay.” She whispered, kissing the top of her head. She noticed the cat’s body was cold, and her back legs felt stiff when they were usually flexible. Lucy’s eyes were fixed on one spot, she wouldn’t look at Rainie. Rainie reasoned, she must be in too much pain. She ran home and placed Lucy on two folded towels on the bathroom floor. Still, no interest in the lunchmeat. She pressed her ear against her stomach. No purring. “Lucy?” Rainie cried.