It’s the nightmare, of course, that startles me awake.
I’m running, stumbling through a dark maze of crashed cars as sirens wail in the background. Leo is pulling me.
That’s fine, right? I can deal with that.
Except for her, her face looming over the whole thing, splattered with blood.
“You can’t run forever, little Pest.”
I look away from the horrible sight and down at my hands.
They’re covered in blood.
The face begins to laugh, and I’m shaking, shaking…
“Petra, wake up!”
I gasp. I see my bed. My desk. My window. My hands are clean. I’m fine. It’s Leo, not her looming over me.
What a way to start the week.
Leo pulls me up. “Nightmare again?”
I nod meekly, feeling like a little kid.
He hugs me, kisses my head. “It’s okay. I’ll make you some tea before I leave.” He walks out, leaving me alone with my fears.
I go through my usual pep talk. You are 21, Petra Salvares. She can’t control you anymore. You are amazing and your engagement is proof.
I sit up. January 22, 2029. Monday. Today is me and Leo’s 2-year anniversary.
Today is the 5-year, 1 week anniversary of the day Mother died.
It’s always “she died.” It’s never “I killed her.”
I wipe away sweat and get up to get ready.
I’m ready for work in record time, only because I know my green tea is getting cold. I hate cold tea.
I sit at the table, read Leo’s hastily scribbled note.
Call me if you need anything. Love you + happy anniversary :)
Leo’s gone, off to work at his website design company. I technically never finished high school after Mother… died, so I’m stuck as a lowly barista.
I take the bus to the Starbucks downtown. I clock in, put on the grimy apron, and start the mind-numbing cycle of taking orders and calling out names.
Today, though, my mind just isn’t numbing.
“Tall latte with oak milk, please.”
Mother hated oat milk. “Okay. What’s the name for the order?”
“John.”
She had an affair with a guy named John. I walked in on them and she beat me afterwards… “Okay, that will be out in a minute.”
“Thanks.”
“Next!”
“Hi, do you have the pumpkin spice latte?”
Mother never got seasonal drinks. “No, sorry. We’ll have them in fall.”
“Fine. I’ll have an iced tea.”
Mother never had tea cold, only hot. I guess that’s one thing we have in common. “Perfect. What size?”
“Tall.”
She always got the largest coffee they had, no wonder she was crazy. Just one of those probably had enough caffeine to cause brain damage. “What’s the name for the order?”
“Patricia.”
She had a coworker named Patricia. Hated her. “Okay.”
By the time my shift is over, I have to call Leo to pick me up, I need emotional support. He drives me home and we sit on my bed. He rubs my back like I’m a kid, his chin on the top of my head. I’m going crazy.
“Do you want some good news?”
I sniff. “Yes.”
“Well, since today is our anniversary, I invited my parents over for dinner!”
I sniffle, but smile into his shirt. “Did you invite Maelyn and Otto?”
“Yes, but they can’t be too crazy.” I can feel him grinning.
I half laugh, half sob. “Okay.” I love Otto and Maelyn, the eccentric old couple who took me in after Mother died. I might not be biologically related to them, but they are my real family. Them and Leo.
He gets up. “I should get back to work. Promise you’ll be okay?”
I nod.
He kisses the top of my head and leaves. “Call me or Maelyn if you need anything, okay? I love you.”
“I love you too.”
As soon as he leaves, I slam my fists onto the bed. Damn it, Petra, it’s been 5 years!
How is she still haunting me?
I stumble into the kitchen and make myself a Comfort Drink. Leo and I invented them last year, after I had one of my nightmares. The idea is simple. Make a drink that has absolutely no connection to her.
I pull out a thumb cup, almond milk, ice shaped like hearts. Kumquat juice, squeezed out of kumquats from our tree. Raw sunflower honey that Alinae sent me.
Slowly I relax. It’s easier when I’m around things that Mother never knew existed. I place the ice carefully, pour the almond milk and juice. Mix in honey. It feels good to do something. I stir the drink together, sip.
You can’t run forever…
A choked sob erupts. I slop half the drink down my shirt.
I slam my cup down and run to my bathroom, lock myself in.
It feels like half the ocean has bled out through my eyes.
I cling onto the counter for sanity, so hard it hurts.
What is wrong with me?
I fumble for my phone and hurriedly dial Maelyn’s number. I need her, even if she’s a little crazy.
Not as crazy as Mother was…
“Mae?”
“What is it, Acorn? I’m out of my mind here, think you can come over and help me pick a skirt for tonight?”
I smile. Leave it to Mae to find a perfect way to distract me. “That sounds amazing.”
Getting to Maelyn’s place is annoying complicated. The 15-minute walk feels too slow to me, and Leo has the car. Calling a taxi feels like splurging, so I opt for the bus.
I hop on, ignoring the driver’s incredulous looks for getting on, only to get off in 5 minutes. I sit right next to the door.
You are 21, Petra Salvares. She can’t control you anymore. You are amazing. If you weren’t, why would someone want to marry you?
The 5-minute drive feels like an eternity. I can’t stop from fidgeting, it’s like a swarm of bees have flown inside me.
You can’t run forever, little Pest.
I block the voices out. I’ll be with Mae soon, and Mae can fix anything.
I jump off the bus and sprint down the sidewalk. Otto is waiting for me at the door, and I run into his open arms.
“Whoa, Acorn, don’t knock me over.”
I quickly pull back. “I’m just glad to see you.”
“Well, Maelyn will too.”
Otto goes back to his chair by the TV, showing a crackling fireplace. I half walk, half run down the little hallway, running into Mae’s room.
“Mae!”
She gives me a giant hug. “Well, if it isn’t my little Acorn. Come help me pick a top.”
I sift through a pile of blouses, plain, striped, flowered, dotted.
I laugh. “Mae, where did you find these?”
She plants her hands on her hips in fake anger. “Listen here, Petra, when you get to be my age, you are going to be buried in junk you’ve collected. That’s for certain.”
Otto pokes his head in. “I’m not. Maelyn’s the mess bug in this house.”
Mae flings a top at him. He smacks it away, guffawing with laughter, and leaves.
It takes a while to stop laughing after that.
After a while, we’ve picked out a plain white collared blouse (Mae complaining about the “lack of life,”) and a peachy pink flowery skirt, her favorite color.
Mother hated pink.
I bite my lip to stop the thoughts. “You look beautiful, Mae.”
She smacks me. “Stop that. I haven’t been beautiful since I was twenty, and lord knows how long it’s been.”
Otto pokes his head in again. “Good lord, who is this gorgeous woman?”
Mae cackles. “Stop it, Otto!”
Otto smacks another top out of the air. “Acorn, come see your old man’s outfit.”
I examine the collared white shirt and dress pants. “Perfect, Otto.”
“Wait now, I ain’t done.” He pulls out a pair of suspenders.
I laugh so hard my stomach hurts. “You can’t wear those! Leo’s parents will think you’re crazy!”
Not as crazy as Mother ever was.
“Well then, my pants might fall off, and that’ll be crazier than any pair of suspenders.”
I can barely stop from cackling. “Have you heard of belts?”
“Well now, I have, but where’s the life in that?”
After I finally convince Otto to scrap his suspenders, Mae insists on treating me to cookies.
“They’re for the party, but you can have one or two.”
I’m starting on my third one when my phone rings. It’s Leo.
“Hey, babe, where are you? We need to decorate.”
“Oh, I’m at Mae’s.”
“Good. Come home, but just make sure Otto doesn’t do anything crazy, like wear suspenders.”
I almost cackle. “He almost did!”
I’m about to recount the whole thing, but Leo stops me. “Tell me the whole thing at home, okay? Love you.”
“Love you too.”
The ride home is short, and decorating goes by fast, both of us laughing like hyenas at Otto and Mae’s antics. We’ve barely finished when the doorbell rings.
“Hi, Acorn!”
I can’t stop myself from smiling. “Mae, you’re early!”
Mae bustles in and sets the plate of cookies on the table. Otto comes in, huffing and puffing under a giant ham. He dumps it on the table, upsetting Mae’s tower of cookies.
Mae smacks her lips. “Otto!”
Otto dusts the ham crumbs off his shirt. “Next time, you’re carrying that!” Leo and I guffaw again.
Leo’s parents, Patrick and Liliya, let themselves in. Mae extends a wrinkled hand to Leo’s mother. “Maelyn Jones, at your service.”
Otto grasps Patrick’s hand. “Otto Jones.”
We all sit at the little round table, feast on sandwiches, ham, cookies and fruit. Maelyn and Liliya are hitting it off right away, recounting stories that make both me and Leo blush. Patrick laughs heartily, spilling his water more than once. Otto just eats cookies.
Mae demands we reenact our proposal, and Leo is happy to oblige.
When we kiss at the end of the night, I finally feel happy.
I can’t run forever, but I can run with the people I love.
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2 comments
An interesting follow up story. The tone on this one seems more serious, and the whole time it feels like we're on the edge of a breakdown. That really stresses how things can stick with you, and haunt you years later. What I really like here is how the mother's voice gradually grows more and more quiet. Near the beginning she keeps interrupting, but by the end we haven't heard from her in several paragraphs. It's a subtle effect, but shows that the people she loves help her immensely. Thanks for sharing!
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Thank you! I'm glad you noticed the effect, it's hard to work it into the story. Hope you enjoyed!
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