The Ocean (2 page)

“This it, right?” The man turned to me, confused.

“This is it,” I sighed. He popped the trunk and opened his door to get out, taking one more look at me. I just kept staring at the house as a flood of memories came back to me.

“Come on girl, or I turn the meter on.” I tore my eyes from the house and turned to him. He laughed out loud at my expression and got out of the car. I got out also, leaving some sand on his seats. He helped me take my luggage to the porch where I paid him, giving him a nice tip. He tipped his hat and turned to leave.

As he pul ed away, I stood there just looking at the door, wil ing myself to go inside. Final y, I took my keys out of my messenger bag and found the hot pink key my dad had made and sent to me. Alex’s had been army green camo. We talked about switching, just to mess with him, but then thought better of it. I had to give him a D for effort though; he’d gotten the girlie part right. Taking a deep breath, I went in. The living room looked the same, but different. It had the same furniture, but the colorful wal s I remembered were freshly painted white. I cal ed out to Alex, then to Oliver, but there was no answer.

“Great,” I sighed. I lugged my heavy suitcases upstairs. After three trips I final y stood in my tiny room. The wal s had been freshly painted white also but were bare. It looked like the entire house had been painted. I looked at my single bed. It had a new pink comforter with two pink pil ows on it. I despised pink.

I began to unpack. My closet was too smal . My dresser had no decorations on it and too few drawers. I unpacked half of my bags and decided that I needed more storage. I changed my clothes and texted Alex.

Where are you

My phone sang a pop song almost immediately when Alex cal ed me back. I answered it. “I just got back from the parts store. Oliver is sporting some junker.” He didn’t even say hel o, just jumped into the conversation.

“Um, yeah, my flight was fine. Thanks for asking. Do you think you can take me to the store to get some Rubbermaid storage boxes?” I sat down and surveyed my new smal er living space that looked like a tornado had ripped through it.

“It might make it to the store. How do you like your comforter? I helped pick it out.” He was now standing in my door way. He took his phone from his ear and put it in his pocket. He surveyed my room and stifled a laugh. I grimaced in response.

“Tel me you didn’t.” I glared at him. He seemed to have grown in the three weeks we’d been apart. He was tal er than me, with auburn hair, a spray of freckles across his nose, and green eyes that had the girls in Indiana swooning over his every word. The grease stains on his shirt gave him an older look. Eighteen months though, he was only eighteen months older than me. I had to keep tel ing myself that because sometimes it seemed like I was older than him.

“No, I didn’t, and I told him how you hate pink.” He plopped down on my bed beside me and looked at his dirty hands, annoyed.

“Where is Daddy Dearest anyway?”

“Working. I know it sucked grabbing a cab, but trust me; it would have been worse to be abandoned by the side of the interstate because Bessie would not have made that trip. Let me change and wash my hands; then we can go. How much money do you have? Enough you think?”

“I’m sure! Mitchel gave me enough al owance to last me the next six months with a raise.” Smiling, I raised my eyebrows.

“Give me five minutes.” He stood and left the room.

An hour later we were both pushing carts with under-the-bed totes, closet organizing tools, room decorating things, and a duvet cover. We rol ed past the mega store’s paint section. I looked at Alex forbiddingly.

“You think we should? I’ve stared at white wal s for three weeks. I feel like I need a stark white straight jacket to go with it.” He rol ed his cart down the aisle ful of the rainbow of color swatches. “I cal navy,” he laughed and stood on the bottom bar of the cart as it continued to rol .

“I obviously cal pink.” I scrunched my nose in disgust like it smel ed bad.

“I’m thinking a silver grey. That color always suited you.” He was right. I also picked an accent of sage green. We checked out and went home.

Before we unloaded everything from the old beaten down truck, I looked at the back door.

“Do you think he’s here?” I asked, suddenly nervous.

“Working until 2 A.M. How a recovering alcoholic can tend bar I’l never figure out,” Alex said as he pushed his seat forward to grab the bags and totes from the extended cab section. “Whose room are we gonna paint first?” he asked, unlocking the back door.

“You’ve been in hel longer, so yours first.” I grabbed the rest of the bags.

“It real y hasn’t been that bad. We stay out of each other’s way. He’l probably do the same with you.” We walked through the smal stark white kitchen to the stairs and up to our rooms. Since Alex’s was the most organized, we dumped the stuff in there and sorted our storage units. I took my things to my room and began helping him move furniture across the hal to the guest room. We decided he would sleep in the guest room as his room dried overnight. We took down the blinds, opened the windows, taped off the old wood trim, and began painting. Joking and laughing, we finished in a few hours. It was a total transformation.

“Kinda feels like home,” Alex smirked as he picked up the pan and left the room.

“Kinda feels like prison,” I whispered under my breath. He didn’t hear me.

We then went to my room, and he helped me unpack. We organized and loaded totes. I re-organized my drawers.

“We could paint your room tonight, too.” Alex plopped on my bed after everything was organized and put away.

“Where would I sleep? You’ve already got the guest room,” I sighed, real y wanting to paint my room and take it away from Oliver, to make it mine.

“You can have the guest room; I’l pul my mattress in the middle of my floor and sleep there,” he offered.

“Alexander the Great, so noble.” I smiled.

“My lady, I aim to please.” He mock bowed from where he sat. Like that, it was decided, so we did it. We did the same process like we were old pros who had been painting rooms for years. Three wal s soon were gray, and the wal around the double windows we painted green.

We went downstairs and ate a late dinner of delivery pizza. Al felt right with the world, or as right as it could be. We watched the Reality TV

channel. Alex turned down the volume and gave me his own commentary. We laughed. I had real y missed laughing; I had real y missed him. Our texting and phone conversations hadn’t been enough for me. Final y, after the pizza was gone and the shows became more serious cop programs, we turned off the TV.

I decided to drag my mattress into my room, too, and we went to bed. I didn’t hear Oliver come in, but I did hear my bedroom door open and saw a light across my wal s; then the door closed again. I heard Alex’s door open and shut, and then I heard Oliver’s bedroom door slam shut. I wasn’t sure if he was angry because I was actual y here or because we’d messed up three of his bedrooms. I didn’t real y care to find out right then. I put my earphones back in and went back to sleep. Eventual y.

Wide Awake, But Wishing I Was Still Dreaming

Gianna

I woke up at the crack of dawn, literal y, because my room faced east and my blinds were in the guest room. I lay there for a long time, staring at my pretty gray wal s and soaking in my surroundings. Once I heard someone moving around, I decided to risk it and get up. I quietly descended the stairs as the TV came on. There in the too-bright living room was my messy haired brother eating a big bowl of cereal. He was watching Cartoon Network, the constant child in him showing through. The Frosted Flakes and milk sat on the coffee table just waiting for me to partake.

“Is it OK that we eat in here? Shouldn’t we eat in the dining room? I looked at the table guiltily.

“Nah, as long as we don’t spil and clean up after ourselves, Oliver doesn’t care. He’s actual y pretty laid back. Like I said, we stay out of his way, he stays out of ours.” Alex took a big bite of his cereal. I went into the kitchen and got a bowl and spoon. When I returned, he was refil ing his bowl.

“Are you ready for school tomorrow?” He asked in between bites.

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I’m so not looking forward to that. How about you? Are you stil pissed that you don’t get to graduate with your friends?” Alex had a few choice words for Oliver for dragging us back here before he left three weeks ago. He simply shrugged.

“I’ve made friends, so it’s not as bad; some of the guys are pretty cool. I like the footbal team although they need work. I’m just glad they let me join.

The coach didn’t have to; the roster was picked last year, you know.”

“Yeah, but I bet once they saw you play, they didn’t have a choice.” I laughed. He nodded his head in agreement. He knew he was a good player. He had led our old school to state championships two years in a row.

“Wel , at least you’l have Abby; she stopped by last week thinking you were in town,” he said. I thought about Abby, my best friend from preschool and kindergarten, and my pen pal from over the years. Our moms had made sure we stayed connected over the years. She was a bright light in a gloomy storm.

“I can’t wait to see her,” I said. He smiled, at his memories I assumed. She and I got into a lot of mischief together, and he was usual y blamed for it.

He was a good sport, and I think deep down our mom knew it was Abby and me.

“Did you get your school supplies yet?”

“Yeah, I went last week. Did Mitchel take you before you left?”

“Yeah, and we got you a few new clothes too,” I added casual y as I watched him out of the corner of my eye. I knew once our money ran out we were fending for ourselves. By the looks of Oliver’s truck and the furniture in the house, we wouldn’t have much of a clothing al owance.

“Why didn’t you tel me last night?” He jumped up, almost knocking over the cereal box.

“Let’s clean up this mess and try not to wake up sleeping beauty first.” I motioned upstairs. It only took a moment to clean up, and then we went to my room. I took the last suitcase out of my closet, the only one I hadn’t unpacked and had made sure to put away before he saw it. I unzipped it on my bed and showed him the new jeans, gym shorts, cargo shorts, tank tops, tshirts and polo shirts that were completely his style. There was a theme to the new clothes, black and navy. Alex and I had agreed to incorporate black into our wardrobe to mourn our mom. However long it took, we’d have on something that was black. Mitchel and I also bought him a few pair of sneakers and running shoes. He was very pleased. We quietly put our rooms back together, and by the time we finished, it was time to eat lunch. I made us lunch meat sandwiches and found chips to add.

We were sitting at the dining room table when Oliver final y graced us with his presence. As he descended the stairs, I held my breath, waiting for his first words to me in almost ten years.

“Good morning, Lexie; good morning, Gia. I take it you’re settling in comfortably.” His Italian accent was thicker than I remembered. I stiffened at the nickname that I’d only heard our mother cal Alex for years. Alex wasn’t as affected by it; I wondered how comfortable he was with Oliver. Oliver’s formerly jet black hair now was speckled with gray. Long lines in his forehead and frown lines along his lips lined his face. His stubble looked like it hadn’t been shaved in a few days. I couldn’t believe how old he looked. He walked straight to the coffee machine and set it up to brew his coffee

“Yes, I’m settling in fine. I hope you don’t mind that we painted our rooms.” I felt as though I need to take responsibility for that, especial y since Alex hadn’t painted until the night I arrived.

“Wel , I think it was the splash of color that this old house needed; if you get the urge, feel free kids. This is your home now. Lexie, did you get Bessie running?” Alex raised his eyebrows at me as if to say I told you so.

“Yeah, Oliver, she’l run probably another 200 miles before she blows her radiator. It was a quick fix. We should go to the junk yard soon though.”

“Good, good. I was worried about how you kids were going to get to school.” He didn’t even look up as he said it. I looked at Alex, confused. Alex in turn, looked at Oliver with shock.

“What are you talking about?”

“Wel , of course you have to fil the tank, I’m not made out of money, unlike Michael. But I wil help with the repairs on her.” He reached into the cabinet and took down a coffee mug.

“His name is Mitchel ,” I said solemnly. Oliver always seemed to ruin a good moment.

“Yes, that is his name,” was al he said as he poured his coffee and went back upstairs. Alex shrugged, but I didn’t know how I felt, except for sad. I was very sad that he was undermining our lives, our happy lives that he had ripped apart yet again.

“At least I won’t be a senior walking to school, or worse, riding the bus,” Alex stated, sounding relieved.

“But you heard him. We have to keep the gas tank fil ed.” I wondered how we would do that once the money Mitchel had given us ran out.

“I’l get a part time job.”

“Yeah, along with practice, and homework, and prepping for col ege. Just add that to the list of things to keep you busy.”

“And out of this house,” he added cheerful y.

“Maybe I’l get a job, too.” I giggled envious of his genius.

“Hey, you can’t steal my gig.” He cleared his plate in the trash and put it in the sink.

“We can share the wealth of ideas. Don’t forget that; feel free to share.” He took my plate and dumped it.

“Hey, I wasn’t done with that!” I mock-pouted.

“It’s our final day of freedom and Bessie has a good two hundred miles to go before she needs another repair. Wanna go to Treasure Island? Or we can go over to Clearwater. Let’s do something.” Alex quickly washed up our plates and cups.

“I need a shower first, but let’s go to Treasure Island. I went to the pier yesterday, but I’d like to feel the gulf. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt the ocean water.”

“Get a move on because I need one, too, and might have to beat you there; we only have one bathroom you know.” That was al it took, and we were racing up the stairs tripping each other. I was in my room first. I tore under my bed for my tote that had jean shorts in it; then I found a black tank top in the other one. I grabbed undies from my dresser, and I was running for the bath at the end of the hal . I knew this was tricky because it was closer to his bedroom. But I heard him stil rummaging through his drawers. I made it to the door and promptly banged my head against it. It was locked.