Boxed In

TW: Mental Health, Miscarriage, Death

Brandy paced through the boxes that littered her new apartment. The apartment looked roomy when she had taken the tour of it a few weeks before. Right now, it felt small and claustrophobic, with just enough space between piles of boxes to be able to enter each room. If she stayed on the phone with her sister, Lilly, long enough, she might make a permanent path in the carpet.

“I still can’t believe you moved to the other side of the country. Who does that?”

“I do.” Brandy answered. “You know what they say, when life gives you lemons-”

“Why is it always lemons? What’s so great about lemonade anyway?”

Brandy smiled against the phone. “I’ll still be back to visit you soon.”

“I guess. As long as my baby's aunt won’t be a stranger.”

Brandy grimaced. “That’ll never happen. There’s enough room on the coast for three more.”

“Brandy,” her sister said with exasperation, “we both know I’m a desert rat, what am I going to do by water?”

“You might like it.”

“Yeah right,” She snorted. “Mom’s here I have to go.”

Brandy frowned. “Alright.” She hung up the phone.

Brandy returned to the half empty box on the apartment floor. It taunted her. She couldn’t wait to finish unpacking. As she was emptying all the packages, Brandy wished she had left all this stuff behind. Why did she feel the need to bring everything with her anyway? The whole point of moving was to leave things behind, not pack it all into boxes, to then have them as walls around the apartment. The fact they were physically in her way was not lost on her. She could not move forward; she couldn’t move at all. While emptying the boxes, she thought about how nice it would be to have the money to forgo packing anything at all. What would life be like if she could just buy everything brand new, for her new life? What a stupid thought, possessions don’t make the person.

After emptying two boxes filled with stuff for the kitchen, Brandy had enough dishes to start the dishwasher, for which she did not have detergent. She’d neglected going to the store because she wanted to make sure she didn’t buy something that was somewhere in the mess of boxes. She stared at the dishwasher, as though if she looked at it long enough it would magically put the soap in itself. Her stomach growled.

“Fine.” She said with a huff, shutting the door to the dishwasher, a temporary admission of defeat to the boxes and the dishwasher.

She left the apartment and drove a couple blocks down to a local diner, which happened to be right by a Target. She ordered a Dr. Pepper, chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, and corn, and a biscuit. Normally, a plate of that size would’ve been enough for two or three meals. Brandy ate the whole plate, realizing once she’d started eating that she had missed breakfast.

Brandy paid and walked into Target. She took her time shopping. It wasn’t crowded, and she found it comforting seeing everything arranged on shelves. She found the dishwasher and laundry detergent, along with basic groceries and headed to the checkout line. A child came up to her and pulled on her pant leg.

“Hey miss? Do you think dinosaurs used spoons when they ate cereal, or do you think they would’ve just put their face in a giant bowl? Like they were bobbing for apples?” The child roared, put her hands on her hips, and pretended to ferociously eat cereal, as a dinosaur would have. Brandy was not good with kids, but she guessed the child was around eight years old.

“Anna Louise how many times have I told you to stop running up to strangers. It’s incredibly dangerous. I’m sorry, miss.” The mom gave Brandy an apologetic look. She had a toddler on her hip, who she guessed was about two. The same age her niece would have been. Brandy smiled politely at the family, grabbed a soda from the fridge by the register, and checked out as fast as possible.

Back at the apartment, with the dishwasher now running, Brandy continued pulling her life out of boxes. She put cans of food in the pantry and crackers in the cupboard. All that was left for the kitchen was dishes, and it would probably take the dishwasher several more runs to catch up. She piled them on the counter tops, the clutter moving up from the floor. Now instead of it just being in the way, it was trying to choke her.

She decided to unload the boxes for the laundry room and bathroom next. They didn’t take long, and she managed to get rid of two boxes, instead of just repositioning her crap. Progress.

Brandy ordered a pizza for dinner. The last of the dishes were in the dishwasher and the towels were almost done. While waiting for supper to arrive, she debated emptying another box or just watching reruns of Lost until she fell asleep. At least her furniture was already in place. Not that most of it was visible through the cardboard fortress.

Brandy woke up the next morning on her haphazardly made bed. It was later than she wanted. She wouldn’t start her new job for another month, and the only thing she had to do before then was unpack. That was one of the reasons why she’d moved when she did, so she could pace herself. She warmed up a breakfast burrito she’d bought yesterday and ate it over the sink. Even with a dishwasher, she hated doing dishes.

She started to open one of the boxes for the living room just as her phone rang.

“Hello.” Her phone chirped in warning. It was almost dead. Brandy scrambled to find a charger, plugging it into the closest outlet, causing her to be trapped between two boxes on the living room floor. She shoved against one of them. It didn’t budge.

“Hey sis, how’s life by the ocean?”

“Oh, you know, just going with the motion.”

“Have you heard from mom recently? I’ve been trying to get a hold of her for the last several days and she’s not answering. We’re supposed to go shopping for things for the nursery later.”

Brandy fought to keep her voice normal as she held back tears. It had been two years, and she could never figure out how to answer. It felt wrong to lie to her sister about their mom, her baby, and her marriage. When she told the truth Lilly would cry all over again, then forget. The doctor told Brandy she could tell her sister whatever she wanted. Brandy did not want to tell her anything.

“Yeah, I talked to her this morning.” She lied. “She said she was going out for a walk before it got too hot. That's probably why she isn’t answering.”

“I’ll try her later then. Ow. The baby is kicking like crazy this morning.”

Brandy could picture her sister rubbing her stomach, which made her own twist.

“Yeah,” she cleared her throat, “hey, listen, my phone is about to die but I’ll call you later alright?” Brandy hoped she didn’t notice her voice crack. After she hung up, she stayed between the two boxes for a long moment. Wondering if she should’ve tried harder to bring her sister along. If she should’ve left at all. The stifled air she felt sitting between the boxes reminded her of home, and why she left in the first place. It was too hot.

She went to the kitchen and opened a window, shoving her face against the screen. It was times like this she was glad she was single; it was nice not having to explain herself to anyone. The smell of grass and trees floated into the apartment. The air was cool for late morning; there was just a couple weeks of summer left. The soft chirping of birds coupled with the breeze stopped Brandy’s spinning head. She wiped her tears and turned to face the boxes again.

Brandy cut the tape off of the book boxes. It seemed like the safest one to start with. She pulled out stacks of novels and began to place them in tilting piles on the floor, based on their genres. The semi-circle of books that surrounded her would normally be of comfort, but their contribution to her lack of mobility in her apartment felt like a smack in the face. She placed the books on the shelves with much less care than usual, just trying to get them out of the way. When that was done, she was all too happy to break down the box and run outside to toss it in the recycling bin.

She lingered outside, lazily walking back toward the entrance of the apartment complex. It was a nice place. There was a pool, and a gym, and trees growing in a way that looked sporadic but must have been planned. The entrance was gated and required a code. It was quiet, and cozy. Reluctantly, Brandy started toward her apartment, reminding herself that once she finished unpacking it would be spacious.

Back inside the apartment, Brandy tried to bring the feeling of openness from outside into the cramped space. Maybe if she could trick herself into not feeling so crowded the boxes would not feel like such a hassle. It worked for about an hour and a half, until she started unpacking pictures of her mom and sister. Her father who’d died when she was young was in a couple of them. Brandy picked up her phone, now fully charged, and walked out to the balcony to call her sister. There were no boxes out there, at least.

“Hey Brandy! I’m so glad you called mom, and I got the cutest stuff for the baby.”

“Oh yeah?” She tried to sound excited.

“Yes! We got sheets, and onesies, and dresses and tiny shoes.”

“You bought the baby shoes? I thought they couldn’t walk for like, a year.”

“They can’t, I bought them purely for the aesthetics.”

“I’ll see if I can find some teeny tiny flip-flops.”

“Way ahead of you.”

Despite herself, the idea of a newborn wearing flip flops made her laugh.

“A bucket hat then, for when you come to visit me at the beach?”

“She will need a hat. Oh, and a swimsuit. I’ll start looking for those too.”

“Great.”

“Are you doing alright out there? It can’t be fun unloading all those boxes by yourself.”

“I’m doing alright. Kitchen and bathroom are already done, I just have the bedroom and living room to sort through.”

“My, you’re moving through those boxes. I still wish you would’ve let mom and I come with you. Three is faster than one.”

“Don’t fret about it. I mean it’s not like you can lift in your condition anyway.”

“My condition? What is this the 1800’s?”

Brandy laughed. “Still, you have your own things you need to take care of there.”

“I suppose. I need to get started on dinner. Talk to you tomorrow?

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, good night.”

“Good night.”

When the sun rose the next morning, Brandy wasn’t sure if she slept at all. The apartment still felt crowded, even though the boxes no longer consumed the place. She poured a cup of coffee and put on the same clothes as yesterday, then ripped open a box. Thankfully, what was left to unpack was decor. Brandy loved to decorate her house, and she spent the day unwrapping and picking places for candles, vases, and paintings. Brandy stopped to eat lunch when her sister called.

“Are you unpacked yet?” Lilly’s voice didn’t have its usual twinkle.

“Almost. This is starting to look like a place I actually live in.”

“That’s exciting. It must be nice to have all those boxes cleared out.”

“You have no idea.” There was a pause. “Are you doing alright?”

“Yeah,” Lilly was crying. “I guess I found the stuff I had bought for the baby yesterday huh?”

“Yes, I believe you did.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s alright. Are you sure you don’t want to join me here Lil? It might be good for you too.”

“I don’t know,” she sighed. “Maybe I should but I don’t know if I can. Not yet.”

“If you’re ever ready, you’d have a place to stay.”

“Thanks. I’m going to go bring mom flowers, I’ll call you later.”

“Tell her I said hi.”

“Will do.”

Brandy hung up the phone, she was relieved that her sister didn’t want to join her out here. She loved her sister, and if she was her usual self, she would love to have her closer. But Lilly wasn’t herself most days, and Brandy had moved, in part, to get away from that. Brandy looked at the boxes around her living room, wondering which one contained her guilt.

By dinnertime, Brandy decided she wanted to go out. She found a local restaurant and set off. The restaurant was clearly a local favorite, judging by the line to get in. Once she had been seated and was eating, she understood why. From her table she could see people picking up to go orders, which she made a mental note of. She took her leftovers and a piece of cake home. She had two boxes left that she would finish tomorrow. The apartment looked like her own, but the claustrophobic feeling was still lingering. She showered, then went to the living room to watch T.V. and enjoyed her piece of cake. She fell asleep on the couch.

Brandy was woken up the next morning by her phone ringing.

“Hello?” She yawned.

“Brandy it’s me.” Lilly was panicked. “I need to go to the hospital, and I can’t find Chris. Could you come pick me up?”

“Why do you need to go to the hospital?”

“There’s something wrong with the baby. I tried calling mom and she’s not answering.”

“Lilly.” Brandy could hear her crying. “Lilly, I need you to just take some deep breaths.”

Hiccupping sobs intermixed with deep breaths came from the other line.

“Are you on your way?”

“No,” Brandy spoke carefully. “I moved remember. I’m on the other side of the country.”

“What am I going to do? I can’t take myself to the hospital.”

Brandy sucked in a breath through her teeth. “Lilly, you don’t need to go to the hospital.”

“You can’t know that. You’re not a doctor! You’ve never been pregnant. There is something wrong with my baby!”

Brandy sighed and rubbed her head. Brandy could not tell her sister she was no longer pregnant, again. She also couldn’t stand to tell her that their mom had died in the same accident that had killed Lilly’s baby, again. Lilly was lucky to have survived. Brandy was supposed to have gone with them.

After numerous head scans, the doctors said her memory problems weren’t caused by physical damage. Her therapist swore that it would stop after a while, that it was just how her mind was dealing with it. That was two years ago. Sometimes Lilly would remember. Sometimes she was still pregnant. Sometimes she was a single mom. Those were the times Brandy really worried.

Chris, Lilly’s husband, had filed for a divorce a year later. Most of the town called him rude names once the news broke. Brandy didn’t blame him. It must have been hard listening to her talking and acting like the baby was still coming.

Once Chris moved out, Brandy came by every day to make sure Lilly was taking care of herself. Before she moved, she made some of her friends promise to keep an eye on her. Brandy wondered if she would ever not feel guilty for leaving her there. She tried to convince her sister to come with her. Lilly insisted on staying and Brandy could not stay in that town any longer. She had already delayed moving when her mom had passed, and she had to decide where the line was between being a good sister and being a martyr.

“Lilly why don’t you lay down for minute? I’ll text Anna and have her come check on you.” Anna was one of Brandy’s friends, who happened to be a nurse.

“Alright.” She hiccupped.

Anna had been able to talk her out of going to the hospital, and when she left Lilly was sleeping. Brandy surveyed her apartment. The carpet needed to be vacuumed but all the boxes were gone. The air was still stifling, the apartment still small. Annoyed that the feeling had followed her to her new home, she left.

She ran down the stairs like the building was on fire. Outside the complex, her surroundings blurred as she made her way toward the beach, the whole reason she had moved here.

Brandy unceremoniously plunked herself down on the sand, just beyond the water’s edge. She focused on aligning her breathing with the pace of the waves.

Brandy hadn’t spent time around water growing up, but she always felt there was something special about it. What else could touch every part of the globe like water did? She had long been convinced there was some forgotten magic that surrounded it. Brandy pictured that every time the waves hit the shore it took something away. A wave recedes and it takes just a little sadness with it. A wave recedes and it takes anger away. A wave recedes and it takes confusion away. A wave recedes and it takes fear away.

The waves crashed against the shore at their unconcerned, methodical pace. Tiny droplets escaped their place to fly further up the shore, colliding with the sunset. Stopping their journey, Brandy's feet. She waited on the beach for the waves to take her soul far from her, into the deep, away from the land, and boxes.