Left Behind

by Vi Keeland

  We talk for a while. She tells me about a new guy she’s dating, yet doesn’t really like, and I tell her more about school and last night with Zack. He took me to another lighthouse to watch the sunset. The sixth one we’ve visited so far.

  “So did you buy anything special to wear tomorrow night?” Ashley asks.

  “Aunt Claire bought me a cute sundress I haven’t worn yet, so I thought I’d wear it. It’s blue, Zack’s favorite color.”

  “I was talking about what you planned to wear under the sundress.”

  Panic sets in. I hadn’t even given any thought to wearing any special underwear. “Oh my god. I didn’t even think about that! Am I supposed to wear something special for the first time? Like a teddy or something?”

  “Calm down. I don’t think there are any set rules. I just thought you might have since it’s been such a big buildup to the day.”

  The nerves I had temporarily been able to set aside for the last ten minutes, come back blindingly strong. “You’re right. It has been a big build up. What happens if it isn’t what we expect it to be?”

  “What do you expect it to be?”

  “I don’t know. Special. Emotional, I guess.”

  “Well, what you wear has nothing to do with any of that. So I wouldn’t worry about it.”

  Aunt Claire knocks on my door to tell me it’s time for dinner. “I have to go,” I say to Ash. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Right after you fornicate.”

  “Fornicate? Someone’s been reading the dictionary.”

  “Do you like riding the baloney pony better?”

  “Stick with fornicate.”

  “If you insist.”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Can’t wait.”

  ***

  The smell of Belgian waffles wafts through the air the next morning, the corners of my mouth turning upwards before I even open an eye. Aunt Claire knows they’re my favorite. I’d never had homemade waffles before coming to California. Honestly, I’m not even sure I realized you could make them at home, no less make them taste as incredible as she does.

  I pad through the house, my feet shuffling sleepily on the floor, even though my senses are wide awake from the smell.

  “Happy Birthday, sleepyhead! And Happy Valentine’s Day!” Aunt Claire smiles as I enter the kitchen.

  I eat one waffle, then half of a second, poking with my fork at the rest. It hits me how strange it’s been to have someone cooking all the time for me. A stove in a trailer isn’t quite the same as the one Aunt Claire has. Plus, Mom wasn’t much of a cook anyway. She never ate much, she thought if we had unexpired milk and Cheerios all was golden. Dinners generally consisted of frozen food thawed in the oven or fast food. None of it good for Mom’s diabetes, but she was always stubborn. Even when I started working in a supermarket in the months before she died and I’d bring home fresh fruit or vegetables, Mom would say she wasn’t hungry.

  Aunt Claire must spot me drifting into a sad place thinking of Mom because she jumps up from her chair like a puppy that spotted a treat, exclaiming, “I almost forgot your presents! Stay right there!” and disappears to her room in a flurry.

  I’m hit with a pang of guilt when she rushes back in with a pile of beautifully wrapped presents— more than I’ve ever received at once before. She’s rushing to cook for me and give me gifts before school, and I’m keeping a major secret from her. Today I feel more guilt than I have in the past few months. Maybe it’s because I’m wondering if someone made my sister a special breakfast for her birthday. A sister I pretend to know nothing about to Aunt Claire. Each day my dishonesty gets harder and harder.

  Aunt Claire piles the boxes at my feet. They’re dripping with curled ribbons and bows and wrapped in red shiny paper covered in pink hearts to commemorate my Valentine’s birthday.

  “Open them!” she insists as I’m inspecting the beautiful packages. She shoves the first of the larger boxes onto my lap. Somehow she always seems to know when I’m overwhelmed with emotions that make me uncomfortable, drawing me back into a conversation and away from the awkward mental space I’m stuck in.

  There are three boxes of the same size and then one very small box that has me the most curious. I want to rush at the small one first, but instead I open them as Aunt Claire hands them to me. Clearly, she is building drama.

  Inside box number one, I find a beautiful teal green dress I had stopped to look at on a mannequin at Bloomingdales when Aunt Claire and I were shopping at the mall last week. The color drew my attention at first. The shade of teal looked like water in a Caribbean beach photograph. Beyond the color I fell in love with the row of tiny white shiny pearls lining the scoop neck of the dress. I’m not a particularly “girly girl” but this dress was stunning and I couldn’t help think about what Zack might think if he saw me in it.

  “Aunt Claire, I didn’t even know you saw me looking at this dress.” I’m kind of speechless. I’ve never had a dress this expensive before. “You shouldn’t have. You do so much for me already.”

  A tear wells in Aunt Claire’s eye and without thinking I spring to my feet and hug her. “Thank you. I love it. It’s the most beautiful dress I have ever seen,” I say running my finger over the precious pearls that had caught my eye.

  I hold it up examining the plunging back that is also lined with little pearls. “It’s like something off the cover of a magazine,” I say still staring at it with disbelief that it’s really mine.

  “You’re going to look like you belong on the cover of a magazine, Nikki. You’re a beautiful girl and this dress is going to be sensational on you. It’s a little dressy but I thought maybe you could wear it tonight for your date with Zack— you only turn 18 once. I know how much you’re looking forward to it.” She winks. “Not that you’ve given me too many details.”

  I grin. “Zack will be speechless. Well, at least I hope he will.” I say. “He has plans to take me to a special dinner. I’m not sure where. He wants it all to be a surprise.”

  “Well it must be a little overwhelming for Zack with your birthday and your first Valentine’s Day together all at once,” she muses. “I bet he’s worried trying to get everything just right.”

  “I didn’t tell him it was my birthday,” I admit, realizing how crazy that actually is.

  “What? Why?” Aunt Claire asks with sincere shock in her voice.

  I lie. I really want to confide in Aunt Claire, but I can’t tell her our plans for tonight are enough pressure on us. “I don’t want too much pressure on him, Valentine’s Day is hard enough.” I shrug, trying my best to come off casual.

  I open the next two boxes to find new running gear. Three light-weight, bright, fun colored Nike running shirts in box number one and three Nike running shirts and a sports bra in the other. Aunt Claire really is thoughtful. She’s learned my taste precisely. The gifts are exactly what I would have picked.

  As I’m holding up my new shorts to feel how feather light they are, Aunt Claire hands me the tiny box I have been eyeing all along.

  “This one is special. There’s a story to go with it. Open it,” Aunt Claire says quietly.

  I peel the shiny red paper off to find a tiny white quilted jewelry box. Feelings overwhelm me once again. “Aunt Claire, you shouldn’t have…I mean it.”

  She cuts me off before I can express that she’s done too much. “Open it, Nikki. That’s an order,” She smiles, her eyes excited with anticipation.

  Inside the box is a beautiful white gold ring with two heart-shaped sapphire stones abutting one another. The sapphire hearts are lined completely with tiny round diamonds. I’m speechless. I’ve never even been this close to such an exquisite piece of jewelry, much less had someone give me a gift this expensive.

  I don’t remove the ring from the box. “I can’t, Aunt Claire. I really can’t,” I say, my voice trembling with emotion. I’m overwhelmed by guilt. I don’t deserve a gift like this. I used her, coming to live with her only t
o find my sister. I don’t deserve this generous gift. I don’t deserve any of it.

  “I told you there was a story. The ring was my mother’s. Your grandmother Anne’s ring. My father had it made for her as a gift and gave it to her the day your mother was born. I was born on September 15th, three years before your mother was born. Your mom was due on September 18th. When your grandfather learned he was going to have a second September baby he had this ring made to celebrate the two babies. Sapphires are the birthstone for September. Your mother always loved this ring. When we were little, she and I used to take it from our mother’s jewelry box and try it on, pretending we were princesses.”

  Aunt Claire continues before I can find any words to speak, “You never got to know your grandmother, and your mother loved this ring. I thought it would be something special for you to have. They are both watching over you now from heaven, Nikki. I thought you might feel like you have a piece of your mom’s memories with this ring.” She’s still smiling, but a tear runs down her cheek.

  “I don’t know anything about my grandmother. I’ve been afraid to ask too many questions,” I admit without thinking, my own tears falling to match hers.

  “You don’t have to be afraid to ask questions. I’m just afraid to overwhelm you with too much information. We have plenty of time for you to learn about the family you didn’t know. There’s no need to rush.”

  For a moment I forget the ring box still sitting gingerly in the palm of my hand and worry Aunt Claire somehow found out about my plans to find my sister. Her words seem to be a plea not to push for information too fast. Or maybe it’s just my own guilt.

  “I’m sorry, Nikki. We don’t need to be so serious on your birthday. It’s a happy day. You’re eighteen, it’s Valentine’s Day, you have a beautiful new dress and a big date!” She turns the mood from somber to light— one of her best pseudo parenting skills.

  Aunt Claire takes the box from me and removes the breathtaking ring. She places it on my right ring finger in one quick slip— so fast I can’t even resist. She holds my hand out and says, “Perfect. I knew it would be.”

  Amazingly, it fits as if it was made for me. I think about how Mom must have felt as a little girl, running around pretending to be a princess. It is truly a moment of both sadness and joy. I will never be able to understand how those emotions can run in such a tight parallel inside one heart.

  “You don’t have to wear it to school if you’re worried about losing it. Save it and wear it on your big date tonight. Actually, we better hurry up now or you’ll be late to school,” Aunt Claire says rushing to clear the breakfast plates as I fold the shiny red wrapping paper and put it into the boxes to save.

  “Aunt Claire? She turns. “Yes?”

  “Thank you. Thank you for everything,” I say, and hug her.

  Chapter 35

  Zack

  I’m happy Mom isn’t in the kitchen when I come downstairs early this morning. She would definitely be nosing into my business if she found me up an hour before normal.

  I riffle through the kitchen drawers where Mom keeps some sewing supplies, finding the scissors I’m searching for. Just as I grab them and turn to head back upstairs, Mom switches on the light. Damn.

  “Is everything okay, Zack? Why are you up so early?” I hear the nervousness in her voice. It’s been nine months since Emily’s accident and even though I’m back at school and dating Nikki, Mom still worries every time she sees me alone and quiet. Today more so than any other day because of the giant pink elephant she is no doubt fretting over— Emily’s 18th birthday would have been today. Nobody has said a word about it and I’m thankful for that. I’m trying to focus on Nikki and our special night, even though guilt shifted into my brain as I woke this morning.

  “Everything is fine, Mom. I was just looking for a scissors. No worries, it’s just for wrapping a present.”

  “Oh, Valentine’s Day. You bought a present for Nikki?” Mom asks, the familiar sound of parental inquisition in her voice.

  “Yes. Couldn’t really go out tonight without a present, could I? You raised me better than that,” I kiss her on the cheek, which I know will make her happy.

  “Well, I’m a very good gift wrapper if you need my help.” Mom is definitely not letting it go without seeing this present. I relent and pull the black satin necklace box out of my pocket and show it to her.

  Mom opens the box and eyes the locket. “It’s beautiful, Zack.” Her voice is full of emotion. “Nikki will love it. I’m so glad you found someone like her, sweetie. You deserve to be happy.”

  “There are spots for two pictures inside. I thought Nikki could put one of herself and one of her mom so they would be together over her heart whenever she wears it,” I explain, myself getting a little choked up with emotion.

  “Nikki is a strong girl. I can tell. It takes a very resilient person to get through losing a parent at such a young age. You and Nikki have a bond because of…” Mom stops. She hasn’t said Emily’s name since the funeral ended. Dad hasn’t either. They’re both afraid of opening a floodgate of emotions with just that one word.

  “Emily,” I say finishing Mom’s sentence. “Nikki knows about Emily, Mom. I told her one night out at the Point soon after we met. You’re right. I think it is part of our bond. We both lived through something that most people can’t understand.”

  “You’re so grown up now, Zack,” Mom says with both pride and sadness in her voice. “You shouldn’t have had to grow up so fast, but we can’t change that. And, over the last few months, I’ve seen what a caring, thoughtful and mature man you’ve become. I’m very proud of who you are and how you’ve handled the last year, Zack.”

  There are no words. None that I can say right now anyway. I hug Mom tightly and ask her if she’ll help wrap the present. “Your crazy perfectionism comes in handy every once in a while,” I laugh and hand her the scissors.

  After Mom returns from the wrapping paper closet in her craft room she settles in at the table with five different appropriate wrapping papers for me to choose from. “Pick one,” Mom demands in her happiest insistent voice.

  “Hallmark has less options than you do.” But I actually spend a few minutes surveying the papers to pick the right one. I really do want everything to be perfect tonight.

  When Mom cuts the paper and starts wrapping, I’m relieved she didn’t take the locket out of the box and turn it over to read the inscription I had engraved on the back. I wouldn’t have stopped her, but I would have been a little embarrassed.

  Love needs no words.

  You had me before you even spoke.

  I would have to explain the meaning to Mom. Those wordless first meetings between Nikki and me are private— intimate, something that belongs between just us.

  The gift looks beautiful. Mom spent ten minutes curling pink ribbon with the edge of the scissors to add the final finish. I grab the gift, kiss Mom once again and head upstairs to get ready.

  Before I hit the top of the stairs, Mom asks, “Does she know today is…” I don’t make her finish.

  “No, Mom I don’t want Nikki to know it’s Emily’s birthday. Not now. There’s no reason. It would only hurt her and spoil a day that’s important to her. So, no. I’m not telling her,” I take the last two steps up, leaving her no time to offer her thoughts.

  “Enjoy your day, Zack,” Mom calls as I run out the front door a little while later. “I love you.”

  “Love you too,” I shout back.

  As I settle into the driver’s seat of the Charger, I turn my phone on and find five missed calls from Nikki.

  Chapter 36

  Nikki

  I’m not really sure why I took the bus. I run more than this distance every day. I guess I wanted to look mature and professional when I arrived.

  The large, old, city bus stops directly in front of Long Beach City Hall. Half the bus gets off with me. It’s just before nine and people are rushing into work at the row of office buildings that line the st
reet. I stand staring at the building, trying to decide whether I should go in or not.

  My legs tremble, I’m doubtful I can even make the few steps to the front door. I wish Zack had answered. Right about now, I’m thinking waiting for him would’ve been a better idea, but I wasn’t thinking when I answered the call. About to walk into school, I took out my phone to turn it off just as it rang. I nearly dropped the phone when the social worker told me my records had arrived and I could make an appointment to see them.

  “When is the next appointment?” I asked.

  “I have Tuesday the twenty-eighth at eleven.” Two weeks, I thought. I won’t sleep for that long knowing the answers are so close.

  “You don’t have anything sooner?”

  “We’re booked solid. Unless you can get here in a half hour. We had a cancellation this morning at nine.”

  So here I am. Alone. Possibly about to find out about my sister— on our birthday. The day I’ve been anxiously anticipating for months, yet now that it’s finally here, I’m tempted to put it off. Will I view my life the same way when I walk back out today?

  I almost turn around and run twice before I finally reach the door. I enter the slow moving glass revolving door, nearly forgetting to exit as it circles into the building lobby. The large gray atrium looks a lot like the many government offices I’ve entered during the last eighteen years. A few vases of plastic flowers are the only decoration to warm the bland industrial feel.

  It seems like a lifetime ago I sat in the worn green pleather chairs inside the Texas government offices waiting hours for Mom to be called to reapply for food stamps or our housing vouchers. Mom always received public assistance to help raise me because of her poor health— both mental and physical. Life was hard. I understand that more now than when I lived it. But I guess that’s always the case, somehow it’s easier to look back than to see what’s right before your eyes.