by C Standing
I swallow past the lump of emotion in my throat, my pulse thundering in my ears. “Y-yes, they’re my parents.”
“I’m afraid I need to ask you a few questions.”
“Okay,” I say slowly, Lydia and Mali flanking my sides, clearly sensing something’s not right.
The man notices my friends. “I think it would be better it we talked in private.”
Oh God.
My breathing becomes laboured, and my chest rises and falls in quick succession. My fingers clutch the wood in a vice. “No.” I shake my head vehemently. “They can hear whatever you have to say.”
The officer nods sympathetically, and it’s in that moment I know. “I’m sorry to inform you, Miss, but your parents were fatally attacked earlier this evening.”
Fatally...
Attacked...
“A-attacked?” I release a sob, and my girls huddle in close, trying to protect me. Tears spring to my eyes and my lip trembles. “Are they okay?”
It feels like an eternity from the moment he opens his mouth to the second words actually come out. “I’m sorry, but your parents aren’t going to make it home.”
Another sob breaks free as I stubble backward into Mali's arms, my legs no longer able to carry me.
Oh God. Oh God.
“What happened?” Lydia asks.
I don’t need to know what happened; I can feel it.
“They’re gone,” I whisper, my voice cracking as a pure, unrelenting agony overwhelms me.
The officer nods again. “Paramedics were called to the scene, but it was too late,” he informs me, but it’s all a blur.
Everything just fades into nothing.
I’m fading into nothing.
I can’t think. I can’t feel. I can’t...do anything.
They’re gone.
My beautiful, perfect, amazing parents who weren’t hurting anyone, just out on a date night to celebrate 17 years of marriage...are gone.
Attacked.
Paramedics.
Scene.
Too late.
Behind me the door shuts, and I feel another pair of arms wrap around me, but I’m so lost in my grief, I can’t focus on anything other than the fact my mom and dad are dead.
An excruciating cry wracks my body as Mali pulls me into her. Burying my head in her neck, I lose it completely. I cry and scream and yell for the family I’ve lost.
For the mom and dad my 2-year-old sister will never know.
For our parents who will never be able to watch her grow. They won’t get to be there on her first day of kindergarten. They’ll never get to kiss her tears away and clean her cuts when she falls down. They’ll never have the chance to watch their daughters fall in love get married, or hold their grandchildren for the first time.
Falling to the floor, I break down, my heart completely desecrated as I mourn the loss of the two people I loved most in the world.
Everything’s gone.
And I’m left here feeling lost, alone, and so devastatingly broken.
“I can’t believe you’re leaving me.” I throw myself onto my little sister’s now stripped bed and stare at the ceiling. “What happened to our deal of growing old and gray, and living in a home with our thirty cats?”
Packing up the last of her things, Joey rolls her eyes. “I’m going to college, Rive, not falling off the face of the earth.”
Little smartass.
Rolling onto my side, I watch as she uncaps her Sharpie with her teeth.
“I still don’t see why you have to go to some fancy college all the way across the country. What’s wrong with the ones around here?”
I mean, to be fair, this place is the pits, and there are zero decent colleges. I don’t blame her for wanting to get out of dodge, but that doesn’t mean I won’t razz her ass for abandoning me.
“We’ve been through this. The colleges around here are few and far between. And they don’t offer the same programs as Duke.” Kneeling, Joey scribbles the word fragile on the side of the box before looking over at me. “I’m just trying to further my education, Rive. I want a better life for myself; you of all people should understand that.”
Um, what?
Sitting upright, I swing my legs off the bed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Sighing, Joey secures the box with tape and places the roll on her nightstand. “You can’t stand there and tell me you don’t wish you could’ve had this—a chance at college. A chance to live a normal life.”
Of course, I wanted that.
Who wouldn’t?
But unfortunately, that wasn’t in the cards for me. I didn’t have any control over the way our lives played out. Hell, I wish I freaking did. Then, maybe we—or rather I—wouldn’t be stuck living in this shithole.
I did everything I could to support us and give her the best life possible. Was it always legit? No, but I did what I had to do to keep a roof over our heads and food in our stomachs.
I was eighteen and still in high school when our parents were killed by some jacked-up psycho, looking for his next score of crack. I had no idea what I was doing. Taking on all the responsibilities that come with motherhood was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Overnight, I went from being the awesome older sister with dreams of going to college to a makeshift mom with no prospects.
My life changed within the blink of an eye, and it’s nobody’s fault but the asshole’s, who had decided to add murder to his résumé.
Raising Joey has always been my first and most important priority. Knowing our parents would’ve wanted her to have the typical ‘American Dream’ motivated me into taking on three soul-sucking jobs and saving every dime I could get my hands on for countless years.
My wants and needs took a backseat.
They still do.
I have hopes and dreams just as much as Joey, only mine are unrealized.
For example: I’ve never told anyone this, but I’ve always wanted to live near the sea. Maybe somewhere quiet and idyllic, like the Hamptons or Anna Maria Island. Somewhere you can open your bedroom drapes, and the first thing you see is the golden sand and crystal blue waves lapping against the shore.
It’s crazy and far-fetched, but that’s exactly what dreams are.
They’re ambitions and aspirations.
Doesn’t mean they’ll always come to fruition, but there’s nothing wrong with living in the fantasy, even if it’s only for a few seconds.
And for the past sixteen years, fantasy is all I’ve had.
I’ve always had dreams of going to New York and doing the touristy thing. Then again, I also wanted to be sickeningly happy and married to a man who'd look at me like I was the Ninth Wonder of the World.
I wanted a man who’d cherish and worship my body every chance he had, simply because he couldn’t believe I belonged to him. Will I get that? Probably not. I'm not trying to be pessimistic, I'm just a realist.
With the luck I’ve had, you can’t exactly blame me.
Death has a funny way of sucking the good out of everything until you’re left with nothing but piles of dust and bones. Drowning in a never-ending black hole.
I didn’t date—the thought of being happy and in love left a sour taste in my mouth. Why should I get to feel any kind of joy, when the two people who deserved it the most had it cruelly ripped from them?
I refused to socialize with my friends. I didn’t see the point. I could barely stomach being around myself, I wasn’t about to inflict my anger with the world onto them.
I didn’t indulge in luxuries like new clothes or expensive shoes and purses. Every dime I had went on giving Joey a marginally better life.
I put my old life and everything that came with it behind me and just faded into the background.
It was easier that way.
Over time, I grew used to the relentless wash/rinse/repeat. It wasn’t like I had much of a choice. The tireless routine sank into my veins and became an essential part of my existence.
I never dared to dream. Never gave into hope. I didn’t even allow myself the idea of wanting something because I knew I could never have it.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss the simple days and living a stress-free life.
Thanks to my graphic design company, I don’t have to worry about money anymore, but that doesn’t mean I don’t miss other more... carnal desires.
I’m still a woman, after all.
I have needs just as much as the next person.
Christ, it’s been so long since I’ve had a man, I’ve forgotten what sex feels like.
I’d dipped my toe into the whole relationship thing about a year after my parents passed, but it didn’t work out. He couldn’t handle that I was always working. Not that I could blame the guy. What man in his right mind would want a girl who barely has time to sleep or take a shower, let alone go out to the movies, or a romantic meal?
Most of the time, it didn’t bother me.
I handled my business with my trusty vibe, and believe me, that little fucker was more faithful and skilled than any guy I’d been with before.
But when Joey would come home with her latest boyfriend, and they’d make-out on the couch like the two love-sick teenagers they were, the little green-eyed monster would occasionally make an appearance.
It wasn’t because I was jealous of her or them; I was jealous of what they had.
I’m not going to lie, up until now, life has pretty much sucked ass.
However, as mental as this makes me sound, I wouldn’t change any of it—aside from my parents being killed, of course. Because despite the fact I lost the two people I loved more than anything, it made me the woman I am today.
Not to blow my own horn or anything, but I’m pretty freaking proud of her.
So, why my baby sister feels the need to rain all over my goddamn parade now, I have no clue. But you can bet your ass I’m going to find out.
Especially when it’s thanks to me and the fact I worked my ass off for years, so she could have this chance to live a normal life.
A little gratitude wouldn’t go amiss.
“Are you seriously bringing this up now?” I snap, feeling annoyed that she’s going there, yet again. “What was I supposed to do? Ship you off to the nearest orphanage and drive off into the sunset?” Anger radiates from every pore in my body.
I don’t mean to be a bitch, but what’s with her attitude?
Doesn’t she realize what I’ve sacrificed so she could wear the latest clothing and attend one of the best fucking colleges in the country?
Jesus, I’ve given this girl everything she could’ve possibly wanted, and what? Now it’s suddenly not good enough?
Joey’s shoulders drop. “You know I don’t mean it like that.”
I scoff at her passive-aggressive attempt at saying what she really means. “It doesn’t matter what you mean, Joe, because this is our reality. Mom and Dad are gone, and they’re never coming back. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you a brand new car for your sweet sixteenth, or shower you in Tiffany’s finest, but I had more pressing things on my mind, like keeping you alive.”
I’m so goddamned angry, I’m shaking.
“No, this wasn't the life I wanted, but it's the one I've got. Am I happy about it? No. But life isn’t about getting everything you want, baby girl. It’s hard and raw and gritty, and sometimes it fucks you in the ass, but you know what? You have to milk that fucker for everything it has. You have to learn to give as good as you get. It’s not perfect, but it is what it is.”
I take a deep breath in an attempt to calm myself. “I had to put my wants and needs on the back-burner because I had a child to bring up. I was eighteen with no clue what to do with a two-year-old, but I soon figured it out, because I had to.”
Tears pool in her eyes at my words.
I’ve never been this real with her before, but maybe she needs to hear it. I don’t want her sympathy or her tears; I just want her to stop trying to tie everything up in a pretty little bow when life isn’t like that.
Joey’s lip trembles. “You know I didn’t mean it like that,” she whispers.
I hate seeing her upset; she’s my little sister and the only family I have left. If this were any other time, I'd pull her into my arms and hold her until all the pain washed away. But right now, I just can’t.
I need space.
Her words have cut me deep, and my emotions are being dragged through the wringer.
All this time, I thought she’d been happy, but it’s becoming extremely clear that it was all a front to appease me.
“I’m grateful for everything you’ve done, Rive. You know that. Without you, we wouldn’t be where we are today.” I’m not sure if that’s a backhanded compliment or an insult. “And I may not remember our parents, but that doesn’t mean I don’t miss them every single day.”
“Then what’s with the lecture?”
“I just...” Her gaze lowers to the ground, and for the first time in years, she resembles the same lost little girl who’d curl into my arms and cry herself to sleep every night, wondering why her mommy and daddy weren’t here. “I want more for you.”
I steel my shoulders. “And I want to win the Jackpot, but we don’t all get what we want in life, baby girl.”
Not wanting to argue anymore on her last day with me, I make my way toward the door.
“River...” Joey says my name like a plea, and dammit, despite how fucking pissed I am at her for how shitty she’s made me feel, I stop.
She’s my sister; I’ll always stop.
“What?” I sigh, refusing to turn around.
“I don’t want to fight with you.” She sniffles, and I feel my heart splinter. Why does she have to cry? She knows I can’t handle it when she cries. “I just want more for you. You deserve more. Don't you want something better than this?” She motions around our cozy two-bedroom apartment in Orange Cove, like she’s ashamed of it. Granted, it’s not the Ritz, but it was all I could afford at the time.
I could’ve stayed in my childhood house, but the memories were too much. I knew that if I’d stayed there, I would’ve slowly driven myself insane.
Expecting to hear Mom’s voice call throughout the house or see Dad’s truck parked in the driveway. I wouldn’t have been able to walk past their bedroom without breaking down in a fit of tears, and I couldn’t do that to Joey.
So, I did the only logical thing I could think of: I sold the house.
I used the money from the sale to buy this place, and the rest I put aside for Joey’s future.
Our parents’ life insurances paid for the funeral, headstones, and any other debts they had incurred over the years—which to be fair, wasn’t a lot. My mom was a stickler for paying her bills on time. But I couldn’t afford to keep us in the life I’d been accustomed to.
Her words, while appearing innocent, get my back up.
The girl's making it sound like I’ve held her captive and made her live in squalor her entire life.
“It’s been good enough all these years; why the sudden change of heart?”
I know exactly why.
She’s ashamed.
She’s seen the wealth her friends come from and wants a little taste.
I can’t blame the girl; I’d be the same.
But don’t make me feel like crap for doing everything I can just to survive.
Joey raises a defiant brow. Any trace of her tears is now gone. “It’s not exactly sudden.”
Little brat.
My life may not be perfect, but considering the shitty hand we’ve been dealt, I think I’ve done okay.
I level her with an icy glare. “Don’t be a pussy, Joey. Say what you need to say.”
“This place—this town—is a shithole, Rive,” she says, like that clears everything up. “You can’t tell me you’re happy here.” Orange Cove isn’t the most happening place on the map, but it’s home. “We have money now; you don’t need to settle for this.”
You kno
w what? I love my sister, but screw her and her sanctimonious crap. “I don’t need your pity, Joey.”
Stepping forward, she closes the distance between us. “I’m not trying to pity you, Rive.” She turns me around and takes my hands, her doe eyes pleading with me to understand. “I just want you to open your eyes and see what I see. You have so much more to offer the world than this. Why don’t you use the money you’ve saved from your business to buy a new house? Get out of Orange Cove.”
My irritation spikes. Why is she pushing this? “Why do you care where I live?”
Her eyes widen in disbelief and then narrow. She's looking at me like I’ve grown three heads. “Please tell me you’re not asking me that.”
When I don’t say anything, she shakes her head in disdain.
Yeah, tell me about it, sis.
“I care because you’re my sister, and I love you! Because knowing you’ve shut yourself off from the world kills me. I’m not a child anymore, Rive. You need to put yourself first for once and start living your life.”
Start living my life?
She’s joking, right?
Please tell me she’s joking?
I’m a thirty-something recluse, with a shit ton of issues; I don’t have a fucking life!
“I just want you to be happy, River. I want to see you smile again. You don't even see your friends anymore.”
I cringe at her words.
Man, she’s just knocking the insults right out of the park today.
What the hell did I do to deserve this verbal battering?
“You need to quit while you’re ahead,” I warn her, pulling away.
The girls are a sore subject for me. I always thought it would be us three against the world, but their lives took them down a path I chose not to follow. We kept in contact for a while but it wasn’t the same.
When they were living it up in college, I was potty-training a two-year-old. When they were graduating and getting their degrees, I was working myself into the ground at my third job so I could pay for Joey's childcare.
They've moved on with their lives, and I did the same.
Theirs were filled with excitement, new opportunities, and the freedom to be who they wanted. I was trapped in an existence of dirty diapers, sleepless nights, and endless mind-numbing shifts.