Pieces of Hope

by Carter, Carolyn

  Just after we’d moved in, Claire repainted the house in what I often referred to as blind people’s colors. Those obnoxious shades only the non-seeing could ever appreciate. Our living room was lime green, the sunny kitchen blueberry. Claire’s room got a blast of fuchsia. Mine, blinding yellow. On sunny Sunday mornings, I used to lie awake in bed—sunglasses on—and plan my entire day. Living inside a carnival was not something I had ever understood. Until today. My sister was, undeniably, an artistic genius.

  We passed my door, made a left, and peeked inside my sister’s room. Claire and her best friend, Sophie Langley were sprawled across the room’s white shaggy rug, intently occupied, with a ragged Monopoly board between them. Playing Monopoly was something my sister and I used to love to do before we grew up, grew apart, and grew bored with board games. Dressed in tees and boxers with their year of graduation printed on their butts, I recognized them as the same boxers they’d flashed beneath their ball gowns at senior prom. Singlehandedly, they’d started a fashion trend at McMinnville High.

  Neither Claire nor Sophie noticed us until Charlotte quietly cleared her throat.

  To my surprise, Claire stomped in the middle of the game, smattering houses and fake money, and lunged for me. She squeezed me so hard that, had I been in my body, I might possibly have died.

  Typical of normal dreams, Claire didn’t ask any questions about how I got here. Nor did she seem to remember that I was still in a coma. After a brief introduction, the five of us sat down and played Monopoly as if we were long-time, very-old friends—and as if Claire had been expecting us. (Maybe she had.) And despite hating to lose at anything, Claire wore a stupid grin on her face during the entire game, happily aiming it at me.

  Not so much with Sophie Langley. Even though she was winning—as usual. That girl had kicked our butts ever since I was seven and Claire was nine, and today she would no doubt add Rin and Charlotte to her list of victims. When it came to Monopoly, Sophie didn’t just beat you. She slaughtered you.

  I worked to keep the conversation light, avoiding the heavy topics to keep Claire’s memory from triggering. Once, right after Mom’s accident, I realized mid-dream that she was dead, and in the midst of being deliriously happy, the agonizing truth came crashing down around me. I awoke crying. The last thing I wanted was that same thing to happen to Claire. I knew how terrible she felt about my accident, how much she blamed herself, how much she wanted me back.

  Instead, I focused on the one topic any girl could spend a lifetime discussing and never resolve all its intricate mysteries—our love lives.

  “So, Claire, how are things going with Brody?” I rolled the dice, and as I counted ahead, I groaned loudly. For the third time in a row, I landed on one of Sophie Langley’s properties—Boardwalk, this time. I moved my iron four spaces—I wanted the horse and rider, but Charlotte claimed it first—and dished out my last six hundred dollars to the evil Monopoly Queen.

  “Pretty good.” Claire cast a dreamy look my way. “Actually, pretty great.”

  “You sound surprised.” I smiled as Rin took a turn, thankfully landing on one of her own properties. “I’ve always known there was a great guy in there somewhere, under all that goofiness, I mean.”

  “Yeah, I guess I am surprised . . . mostly that I love, I mean, like that side of him, too.” Claire avoided Sophie’s stare-down, but it was evident that she’d changed her tune because of Sophie’s disapproval. “It’s hard to believe he used to drive me nuts, and now I think he’s kind of cute . . . sexy, even,” she added in a whisper.

  Sophie stopped counting her money long enough to roll her eyes.

  “Claire, he’s two years younger than you!” Her tone implied that this was a great deal worse than dating a serial killer. “Besides, when it comes to something lasting, I see you with a guy with a lot more class.” She emphasized the last word in a nasty tone. As her words struck the heart of my fair-haired sister, Claire’s smile faded.

  I sent Sophie my best serial killer stare.

  It was because of Sophie Langley that I’d first discovered life wasn’t fair. As one of those girls who got stared at by everyone—old people, young people, babies in cribs, you name it—she had no idea what it was like for the rest of us. With upturned blue eyes that had the capacity to appear evil and sexy (often at the same time), long, pale hair that looked silky-fake (but wasn’t), and the nickname—The Bod—she pretty much had it made, and she very much knew it.

  I used to wonder why she and Claire were friends. My sister was no saint, but she didn’t pretend that she was better than all of humankind like Sophie did, nor did she rub it in people’s faces whenever she got the chance. Yet today, thanks to my new set of eyes, I could see that life was fairer than I’d ever known. It had taken a while to see it, but in the outline of Sophie’s svelte body, there was definitely a dirty gray blur—as if someone had taken a giant pencil and smudged up her edges. And that’s why, despite myself—but justified by the many years of abuse she had unfailingly doled out to Brody and me, and countless other innocents—I smiled so big my face started to hurt.

  Sophie glared back at me.

  “I disagree,” I said sweetly to Sophie, watching the smudges darken. “I’ve always imagined my sister with a real gentleman, a guy with a heart of gold, and one whose arms are strong enough to pick her up and carry her down a mountaintop . . . if she so desired.” I wasn’t used to talking this way, but the occasion seemed to call for laying it on thick.

  “You’re becoming quite the romantic,” Claire said proudly. “I like it!” She would say that, of course. Every bone in Claire’s body screamed romantic. I used to pride myself on the fact that those genes had skipped right past me. Or so I’d once thought.

  I tossed my head. “It’s probably the company I’ve been keeping.” Claire looked over at Rin and Charlotte, but they both knew I was talking about Ethan. Charlotte giggled.

  It was Claire’s turn to roll. Twelve. I counted ahead and groaned for her.

  “That will be four hundred dollars,” Sophie said smugly, holding out her hand.

  Charlotte was the next roller. She passed Boardwalk with her man on a horse, but landed on a cheesy little property of mine. I didn’t have enough money to put hotels on it, just a couple of houses, so the rent was low. I did picture a five-story building on it—one that required a bit of refurbishing—and out of the edge of my eye, I watched Charlotte and Rin grin in unison.

  It was then that I heard him. His melodious voice was unmistakable. If it took me a hundred years to hear it again, I would never forget the way it resonated in my soul. He was calling my name, requesting my presence.

  Charlotte pulled my hand from my lips, and said politely, “I’m sorry, but we have to go. It’s been so great meeting both of you . . . and Monopoly was a blast. It’s been ages since we last played.”

  “Eighteen years, to be exact,” Rin added, and Charlotte elbowed her hard. “Ow!” she mumbled under her breath. “I mean, I guess it feels like it’s been that long.”

  Claire melted a little, not hiding her disappointment.

  “So soon? But you . . . you only just got here, and for some reason, I already miss you terribly.” She screwed up her flawless face. It wasn’t a good look. “Does it seem like a weird thing to say? It’s like you’ve been gone a very long time.”

  I was scared that she might start remembering—Mom’s recent death, the hospital, my coma—and our visit would end on a terrible note. I felt very torn; Ethan continued to call to me, pleading for my arrival, and my sister was nearly begging me to stay.

  “She has a date,” Rin said abruptly. “A date with Ethan Reid . . .” And this time, it was my turn to give Rin a shot to the ribs. Did she have to remind Claire of the hospital? Was she trying to make her remember?

  But to my amazement, Claire looked impressed. On the other hand, maybe it was something closer to shock. “Ethan Reid? You mean the guy from the hospital?”

  I sounded as surprised as she
looked. Her memory was spotty; she only seemed to remember him, and not my condition. “Yeah, that’s him . . .” I mumbled in half-apology. “Truthfully, I can’t believe it, either.”

  “No, it’s not like that,” Claire insisted, and for once, she seemed to be at a loss for words. Usually, the girl could talk forever. “It’s just that he . . . he . . .”

  “He smolders.” Sophie barely glanced up from the stack of fake hundreds she was counting, but there was a hint of something in her voice I didn’t quite recognize.

  “Yeah, that’s it exactly. He smolders.” Claire wasn’t in shock; she was awed. This was definitely a first. “Well, good for you, Hope. I think Ethan’s a lucky guy. Make sure he treats you like a princess or he’ll have to answer to me.” I looked at her scrawny arms, her hundred and eighteen pound stick frame, and my eyebrows reflexively shot up.

  “I’ll bet he’s already shaking in his shoes,” I said, straight-faced.

  She flexed her non-existent biceps in a show of force.

  “He’s so serious. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile,” Sophie said evenly, and I interpreted this to mean he hadn’t given her a second glance. She discounted the people who ignored her as grossly flawed. “If you want my opinion, the guy seems like a player. I’m sure he’ll be on his way once he . . . gets what he wants.”

  Now I knew what I’d heard earlier—envy. I flashed another huge grin her way.

  “You’d be surprised,” Charlotte said softly, batting her eyes in a way that seemed sweetly naïve. “A friend of a friend says he’s a really great guy.”

  “Yes, we have it on the highest authority,” Rin said, glancing heavenward. “He’s been searching for a girl like Hope for what for seems like two lifetimes . . .”

  “Soul mates,” Charlotte twittered, and Sophie Langley’s mouth dropped open. The thought of a random fly flying into it was temptingly appealing. But I was nice and tried not to imagine it.

  We all stood then—Sophie excusing herself to the kitchen for a bottle of water in a transparent attempt to avoid unpleasant goodbye hugs and flaws in her logic. Charlotte finagled a brief squeeze before she skittered past, but Rin wanted nothing to do with her. Claire embraced me a long time, refusing to release me until I promised to return and tell her everything about my date.

  “Soon!” she insisted as I tugged away my hand. “Make it soon, Hope!”

  “Every detail,” I promised her. “Count on it.”

  As much as I loved my sister and this newfound closeness of ours—something I thought we’d lost forever—Ethan was still beckoning me, and I couldn’t wait to see him. I ran down the short hallway, out the front door, leapt across the three steps at the edge of the porch, and sprinted over the purple picket fence.

  Charlotte and Rin were several steps behind. I was nearly jumping out of my skin with impatience when Rin finally pulled back a corner of the Boller’s yard, granting me a glimpse of my shortcut. Part of my exuberance had to do with the surprise of it all. Where was he taking me? What had he planned? Given that anything could happen, anything he could imagine, anyway—my heart almost couldn’t take the waiting!

  Beyond the opening, there was a narrow winding road. A light breeze blew across my face, gently ruffling my hair. It was chilly, but the vast meadows on either side of the road were generously green. Early spring, maybe? Something about the setting leant itself a foreign air. It looked whimsically charming.

  “You should change first,” Charlotte suggested, eyeing me up and down. “You’re not really dressed for the weather.” The breeze picked up as it shot through the draped opening. I suppressed a shiver, but more than the chilly air had caused it, I knew. My nerves were getting the better of me.

  “I’m terrible at this sort of thing. Help me,” I pleaded. My hands hung limp at my sides. It wasn’t much of a stretch to look pathetic.

  Rin laughed. “For such a strong person, you sure can be a wimp sometimes.”

  “It’s . . . boys,” I said, making a face. “They seem like extraterrestrials to me.”

  “Well, if Ethan’s from another planet, I want to go there!” Charlotte gave a girlish giggle. As she scrutinized me, I felt my clothing shift as if I were being dressed in layers. Something soft touched my skin (cashmere, maybe?); my pants felt looser and my shoes felt tighter. Instantly, I warmed up from top to bottom.

  “There. That should do it. You look amazing, but not like you tried too hard. With boys, that’s important.” Charlotte sounded pleased. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand as though it had taken tremendous effort.

  Before I hopped through the curtain, I glanced down long enough to see that I was wearing a navy sweater, brown cords, a killer pair of hiking boots. It crossed my mind to ask them where Ethan had taken me, but I decided against it. There was something to be said for anticipation; it gnawed pleasantly at my insides.

  “By the way, Hope, you were so great with my mom. She loved you.”

  “I lied to her, Charlotte.”

  She brushed aside my comment with a wave of her thin hand, as though this were of no consequence, given the outcome.

  “Totally necessary,” Rin said. “And not a total lie . . .”

  “You are an angel.” Charlotte gave me a gentle shove. “Our angel, anyway.”

  13 Surprises

  Ethan pedaled up the skinny twist of a road on a baby blue bicycle that appeared old, but freshly painted, and way too small for his tall frame. The seat was all jacked-up, pushed up so high that I thought it might fall off at any moment, and still his knees nearly bumped the old-fashioned handlebars.

  Happiness smeared all over his face, he quickly closed the distance that separated us. And it stunned me every time—his unabashed joy at seeing me, his unfailing beauty. I could feel my insides quivering as he drew closer. Then, leaning the bike against the wall of stone that lined the road, Ethan pulled me into his arms. My feet lifted off the ground, and he pressed my body fiercely against his as if he feared I wasn’t real, as if he thought I might suddenly disappear . . . as if something or someone might steal me away.

  The feeling was mutual.

  Wrapping my legs around his waist, I gripped his neck and leaned my head back. With my eyes wide-open, I watched our fragile world twirl around and around as Ethan spun in circles. Like every moment with him, I wanted to memorize it, lock it away for safekeeping. Just in case one day he really did go away forever.

  When he finally stopped spinning, we both wobbled a bit as he set me on my feet. To him, this was probably surprising. To me, not so much. Whenever he was near me, I usually felt wobbly. But I was very good at diversionary tactics.

  “What’s with the fancy transportation?” I asked, pointing at the ancient bicycle.

  He took two steps, rolled it closer. “What do you think?”

  “I think baby blue’s your color,” I teased. As I bent down, I saw that there wasn’t a chip or a scratch on it. The bike had both a front and back fender and the tires had thick whitewalls. The handlebars were the old-fashioned kind that pointed straight back, and the seat was enormous. I ran my fingers through the spokes. “It’s old, but it looks like it’s in perfect condition. Where’d you find it?”

  “It was my Gram’s. Poppy gave it to her when she was only twenty-four. I tore it apart a few years ago, bought some new parts, had it re-painted. I think Gram and Poppy would have liked that.” Ethan straddled the seat. His long legs bent at an awkward angle.

  “You’re a little big for it, don’t you think?” I asked.

  “Yes, and baby blue really isn’t my color.” He met my eyes and smiled. Lowering his voice, he said, “It’s yours.”

  “W-What?” I stammered, gathering that somewhere in the living realm, this bike actually existed. “It was your great grandmother’s. It’s practically a family heirloom . . . I couldn’t possibly—”

  “This is my dream,” he mocked. “And no is not a word I can hear today.” I stood before him, shaking my head. He rel
ented a little. “Just get on and hang on then. One ride and you’ll change your mind. This baby practically purrs.”

  I giggled, my new romantic bones clattering. “I hear she has a powerful engine.”

  “That she does.” He gently patted the handlebars, indicating where I should sit—which didn’t look the least bit comfortable. Ethan held the bars steady, but they wiggled regardless as I precariously arranged myself, propping the toes of my shoes on the front wheel’s bolts, and sitting on top of my hands for a tiny bit of cushion.

  A happy scream escaped me as we took off, flying faster than I thought he could pedal across the flat surface. My hair blew in the breeze and a light mist struck me in the face, but the storm clouds that gathered over the distant hills weren’t my main concern—holding on was.

  At the rate he was pedaling, we reached the outskirts of the small town in no time. That’s when we slowed to an easy coast, making it easier to look around without the fear of falling. The setting was both beautiful and surreal, and difficult to imagine that it truly existed anywhere—except in Ethan’s dreams. Houses in Easter-egg colors sprang up on both sides of the street. Brilliant blue, hunter green, yellow, brick red, purple, pink, and melon. Flowerboxes perched cheerily on the windowsills. Absent of front yards, their main entrances encroached onto the narrow street.

  “Is this a real place?” I asked, incredulous.

  “Village of Allihies,” he whispered, his breath tickling my ear.

  A happy shiver shot down to my feet. My toes slipped from the tiny bolts, nearly entangling in the spokes and causing the bars to wobble erratically several times until I’d situated myself again.

  “You okay?” Ethan whispered a taunt in my ear again. This time I didn’t give him the satisfaction of looking back, but I could hear him laughing quietly behind me.