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Chapter 2
Carly
We arrive at Savannah’s house just before dark. The twins are so excited to have a sleepover with Auntie Carly. After filling their tummies up with dinner, I sneak them some cookies and ice cream while Savannah’s switching out the laundry. She returns to the kitchen and shoots me a stern glare, before smiling at her precious kids. There’s a sadness to her smile, but I won’t ask her about it just yet.
I help Savannah get the twins ready for bed. They insist that I read them a bedtime story, which somehow turns into a pillow fight between the three of us.
Finally, we say goodnight, and I tuck them in as tight as a bug in a rug, as Daddy used to say. Shew, I never realized how much energy six-year-old kids had. These two are like the eye of a tornado, two miniature walking disasters. But dang if they ain’t a barrel of fun.
Savannah is on the phone while folding laundry, so I find the guestroom on my own. I take a hot shower then slip into some comfy sweats before going downstairs to catch up with my sister for a while.
Pictures line the hallway walls of the happy family I’ve been erased from over the years. Pictures of Daddy, Brailee, Braden, Savannah and Josh. There is even a picture of my momma, Elizabeth, with Savannah’s family taken at Christmas. My chest constricts knowing that I’ve missed so much.
Momma was rarely ever around for us growing up. Daddy raised us while she moved on with her new husband, Garrett, living the good life in Florida. She’s happy, it seems.
Savannah creeps up on me while I gaze from picture to picture, taking in the moments they’ve shared. “I see you made it out of the twins’ room alive. Come on; let’s go relax and have a drink. We’ve both had a long day,” Savannah says, pulling me downstairs and into the kitchen. She pulls two wine flutes and a bottle of Moscato D’Asti from the cabinet. Pouring the bubbly, glistening liquid into the flute, she slides the glass my way and nods toward the living room. “Go put your feet up while I dig through my emergency chocolate stash!” I laugh at her sneakiness; she’s always been the one to hide her goodies. I figured she would’ve grown out of that habit by now, but having twins, it’s probably even more important to practice that habit now than ever.
I sit back in the plush leather sectional and prop my feet up on the granite coffee table, releasing an audible sigh as the stress of the day seems to ebb into the air surrounding me. My eyes flutter closed briefly until I’m interrupted by Savannah traipsing through the room. She places a bowl full of goodies on the coffee table then plops down on the couch with the glass of wine clutched tightly in her grasp.
“So it’s been what? Seven years and I still don’t know why you left. Daddy refuses to talk about it.” She wastes no time with her inquisition, glaring at me with fiery green eyes. Savannah has always been the happy go lucky, bubbly sister. But she’s also full of determination, and once she has a thought in mind, she sets out to achieve it. “What caused you to walk away?”
I’m taken aback by her questions, and I don’t feel that now is the time to dive into the past.
“It’s a long story that I’m not sharing. I appreciate your respect when I say that some things are best left al?—”
Cutting me off, Savannah speaks up again, “That’s fine, Carly, I can respect that, but I need answers. You’re my baby sister, and you have no idea how many sleepless nights I’ve had because of you.”
I never expected Savannah to be distressed by my absence. The last seven years of my life have been far from easy. But the battles I’ve fought have been just that, my battles. What I choose to share with anyone is my decision.
Savannah and I only reconnecting through FaceTime over the last few years, but I realize she doesn’t know much about my life.
"I never meant to cause you to worry, Sav, but I’m not ready to open that part of myself up to anyone. I’m only here because of Daddy, so please respect that.”
Savannah stares at me with questioning eyes, but instead of interrogating me further, she pivots her line of questioning to safer grounds. “Okay… Without pulling your skeletons out of the closet, tell me all about life. How has it been treating you all this time? And not the passing conversations we share on FaceTime. All I really know is that you live in Myrtle Beach, and you work yourself to death.”
“That’s really the gist of it, sis.”
“No love life?”
I side eye Savannah and shake my head.
“No time for men, or friends, really. I manage a mom and pop hotel on the oceanfront. The owners handed full management over to me last year when they retired and moved to Florida. I made something of myself, I love what I do, and for the most part, I’m happy.” I shrug.
“You deserve to be happy, Carly, and I’m thrilled that you’re doing what you love. But did running away from your problems help? Surely the past will catch up with you sooner or later.”
I’m exhausted, and as much as I was looking forward to our sisterly bonding, this ambush is certainly not what I expected. So as usual, it’s fight or flight. This time, I choose to fight. Daddy is sick, and he needs me.
“Not this again, Sav…”
“I just—” she begins, but I put my hand up palm out and stop her before she even gets going.
“No. Not tonight. I’m mentally and physically exhausted. If you want to sit and catch up, we can do that. But if you can’t respect my privacy, I’ll check into a hotel tomorrow for the remainder of my stay. I’m here for Daddy. After he’s gone, I’m gone.” I push to my feet ready to stalk off to the guest room because knowing Savannah, she won’t stop. She’ll push until I break. I can tell my words sting her as she wrings her hands together, her cheeks red with heat. She takes a deep breath, calming herself, trying to find the right words before continuing our spat.
“Okay, you’re still a stubborn smartass, just like Daddy. I won’t push anymore. I’m here for you if you ever decide you want to tell that part of your story. These last seven years have been hell without you around. We’ve missed you so much. I wasn’t there for you then, but I’m thankful we’ve had the chance to rebuild our relationship over the past couple of years. I want to be here for you now, sis.” She walks over and wraps her arms around me, giving me a tight squeeze before holding me out at arm’s length to look me over. “I’ll tell ya what, let’s catch up over some old family photo albums, yeah?” She nods, willing me to reply.
“Sure, sis, that sounds nice.” She squeals and races up the stairs. I sit and lay my head back on the couch, but before I can exhale she’s back, tossing countless large bound albums on the couch cushion between us. Grabbing one, she opens it up and starts telling me the story of her little family.
We sit for hours looking through hundreds of pictures of her and Josh, then sweet baby pictures of her twin terrors, Brailee and Braden. Savannah makes sure to not leave out a single detail of their fairy tale lives.
