*****
Alone in her room that night, Sarah snuggled under her quilt. But after hours of trying to relax, she still couldn’t sleep. There was a bit of time difference and some jet lag, but that wasn’t what kept her awake. Once by herself, she began to worry about Benji and Tyler. Tyler seemed alright, but Benji was still struggling. She worried about herself, too.
Sarah pushed off her quilt and walked to her immense windows. Twilight shrouded the mountains. Their fierce and jagged beauty stood out even in the darkness, highlighted by the layers of snow still clinging to their peaks. It made Sarah long for home. It made her wish that at least her mother were here.
Sarah’s mom had been a nurse. She worked part-time at a pediatrics clinic and was one of those moms everyone wished they had. She gossiped and told stories with her kids, planned amazing vacations and outings, and always had a cup of tea and a cookie for when you were hurt or upset. To Sarah, she was the most loving and wise woman in the world. Sarah, Tyler, and Benji never felt neglected or unwanted, even if their dad was sporadically unavailable, because they had their mom. Then Annie died.
For much of the past eleven months, Sarah had taken her mother’s place. She consoled her brothers and her dad. She picked up the slack in chores and errands. She tried to help Benji with his homework and remind Todd of his meetings and classes. She tried to keep an eye on Tyler, who took to staying out more than in, and reign in her younger brother’s evermore frequent tantrums. Sarah had been desperately trying to keep what she had left of a family together. Not that it had worked out so well.
They actually had other family back in Mobile: Annie’s parents and her brother. But Grandpa James and Grandma Shirley were very old and living in a retirement home. They could do very little to help. Sarah’s Uncle Steve wasn’t much help either. He was the eternal bachelor and ran the family auto garage now that Grandpa was retired. After the initial shock and grief that came from Annie’s death, when everyone in the entire city seemed to be showing up with casseroles and condolences, Todd and his children were left on their own.
Todd soon took to burying himself in his work and leaving abruptly if anyone even mentioned Annie or started to get teary. He couldn’t handle her absence. For Tyler, it meant rebellion and apathy. He began to frequent parties and came home drunk more than once those first few months. Benji, on the other hand, reverted to some kind of toddler mentality. He was increasingly selfish and needy, prone to rages and fits of tears.
Sarah herself took up the responsibilities her mother had left behind, though no one asked her to. Her guidance counselor (it was mandatory to go once a week for a year after a parent’s death) told her it was unhealthy. Sarah knew that. It was pretty obvious. She quit gymnastics and cheerleading so she could chauffer Benji around and run the household errands. She began canceling outings with friends because the laundry and dishes never seemed to get done. She stopped putting on makeup and going anywhere but school because, really, what was the point? Sarah shoved down her own feelings and got on with taking care of everyone else, hoping and praying that eventually they’d all be able to move on.
Sarah’s gaze was tinged with guilt as she took in the stunning mountain view before her. Craggy, snow topped peaks surrounded a deep valley with a darkly silver river running along its edge until it disappeared in thick forests surrounding her new home. Despite it’s beauty, she took no pleasure in looking at the vista. It was partly her fault Todd had decided to pack up the house, put their stuff in storage and go on this research sabbatical while leaving his kids with their distant family in the middle-of-nowhere Colorado.
Sarah stepped away from her windows and turned to face her room. Her luggage was stacked haphazardly in the corner and begged to be organized so, since she wasn’t sleeping, Sarah decided to unpack. There were a few boxes of books and three suitcases of clothes, mostly stuff that was actually too tight these days. Still, she had to do something, so she hung her clothes in the closet, organized the books on the bookcase and filled her dresser with socks and underwear and t-shirts.
In less than an hour, only a box of framed photos and desk supplies remained. Since she would be getting more furniture from the attic sometime this week, Sarah decided to wait on putting those things out. Unfortunately, she still wasn’t sleepy. The balcony looked appealing, but Colorado was much colder than Alabama. The chilly air wasn’t exactly comforting. It was then, she thought of the bathroom; the big jade green tub and all of the pretty tile work.
The huge tiled room was warm, and the glass block window was dark. Not much of a moon tonight, Sarah guessed. She flipped a key shaped switch jutting out of the wall and bronze track lighting lit the room. The decorative tiles were meant to give the illusion of a forested lagoon with dark purple squares on the floor and lighter green and blue ones on the wall. The sunken jade tub was an oasis in the middle.
Sarah began investigating and found the soft robe stitched with kelly-green leaves, along with fluffy white towels and cloths. Opening a tall cabinet she discovered shelves lined with woven baskets. Upon closer inspection, she saw they were filled with various bath items. Some had what looked like homemade soaps with various colors and scents, another held bath crystals, another shampoo, conditioner, bath oils and so on. They all had handwritten labels identifying scents and uses. Sarah wondered if they made them on the farm.
She grabbed the robe, a towel, some salts and oils that smelled faintly of roses and cinnamon. It was rather like a spa, she thought. After filling the tub with warm water, she added the salts and oil and sank into the tub. The curved edge was perfectly comfortable and she relaxed, but thoughts and memories still swirled in her mind.
Sarah’s counselor, Mr. Ramirez, had become extremely concerned about three months ago when Sarah admitted to binge eating. She wasn’t getting much exercise anymore since she quit her extracurricular activities and she’d gained some weight. She wasn’t sleeping much, either. Agitated and unable to sleep, Sarah was getting up in the middle of the night after everyone was asleep and stuffing herself with as much chocolate, chips, and sweets as she could possibly stand. Right after Annie’s death it had made her feel better. But that feeling didn’t last.
She became ashamed of her late night eating, especially after her clothes stopped fitting and her weight gain became noticeable. Naturally (or unnaturally, really) she contemplated throwing up everything she ate. The thought scared her, more because it felt like a solution than because she realized it was wrong. Her own feelings and behavior scared her. She wasn’t herself anymore. So she confessed all to Mr. Ramirez who immediately informed her dad.
Three weeks later, Todd was going to Australia and Tyler, Sarah, and Benji would be moving to Colorado for a year. Which, of course, made Sarah feel like it was her fault.
Todd told the three of them that he felt like he wasn’t being a good father (and he really wasn’t), but he thought grieving for Annie would take time and distance. Todd said he needed to get away and Benji, Tyler and Sarah needed real parents again. They needed family that could take care of them instead of the other way around.
Benji was furious. He would have to leave his friends, his school, even most of his stuff to go live with people he hardly knew in a town that wasn’t even half the size of the city of Mobile. And it was so far away; Alabama and Colorado were practically on opposite sides of the country. Sarah recalled his angry declaration that their father just wanted to get rid of them. Todd merely endured the assault, silent and blank faced.
Tyler didn’t say anything. He didn’t even look at Todd. He just grabbed his phone and left. Soon after, Benji finished his rant and slammed himself into his bedroom. The living room became quiet, neither Sarah nor her father said anything for a while.
Todd finally looked at Sarah and asked, “I suppose you’re quite upset as well?”
She felt sad, but not angry. She looked at her feet and wondered out loud if her own problems were the cause of Todd’s sudden decision. “Is
this because of me, Daddy? Is it because I can’t handle it?” Her throat was thick with unshed tears, but she swallowed them back and looked up at her father with dry eyes.
“No, honey,” he said. “This is because none of us can handle it. We need a change and we need time. This may seem extreme,” he paused to run a hand through his already untidy hair, “but I think it will be a good thing for all of us.” He hugged her tightly and she returned the embrace, but she felt nauseous with guilt inside.
Todd explained their grandparents in Mobile couldn’t take care of them and Uncle Steve didn’t have the time or the space, so they were going to Colorado, to live on the farm where Todd had grown up. Todd hadn’t been there in a long time, but he’d spoken to Rachel at Annie’s funeral and when he called them, they said they’d been happy to have the three teenagers stay for a year.
The idea of letting go and giving others her burdens was a nice one, but in reality it felt like jumping off a diving board blindfolded. She had no clue what to expect or how to behave, and she felt strangely out of control. Sarah tried to lock the memories away and let her mind go blank. She let the warmth of the bath and soothing scents envelope her, calm her.
Before she knew it, she dozed off. She woke, unsure of the time, after the bath water had gone cold. Groggily, she recalled draining the tub, drying off and wrapping up in the robe. She’d gone to the bedroom and curled up on top of the covers. The next thing she remembered was the golden dawnlight waking her.
The previous evening, Aunt Rachel said breakfast was, “early if you want it hot, late if you want it cold.” Sarah wasn’t exactly sure what Aunt Rachel classified as early or late, but figured she had a good chance of landing in the early category if she went ahead and got up now.
It was half past six according to the cell phone on her dresser. Sarah gathered her clothes and went into the bathroom. She chose a lemon scented shampoo and a bar of soap that smelled like honey before stepping into the shower. With clean hair and teeth she felt better and dressed in a baggy sport shorts and a loose t-shirt. She was lucky she used to be so athletic, she reminded herself. If not, she would have been forced to buy new clothes ages ago. As it was, she tended to dress as if she were always going to the gym.
Sarah tied her long blond hair back into a stringy ponytail and shoved her feet into a pair of black and white sneakers before starting down to breakfast. She didn’t hear either of her brothers stirring, yet, and her sneakers carried her silently down the stairs.
*****
Chapter 7: A New Start
Sanctuary Page 6