“I was looking at a book. I’m coming right now.” He tosses the book in his hand back at me with a goofy grin. “I’ll be back, please dinnae leave,” he whispers before disappearing around the end of the row. I listen to him talk in his rolling accent until he drifts out the door.
Straightening my clothes, I chance a peek around the end of the shelf. Thankfully, no one is near.
As calm as possible, I walk back to the table with my stuff on it, smiling when I come to a stop. Sitting on my open book is a blue beanie with the word ‘Alba’ around it.
Quietly I gather up my books, packing them away before leaving the library. There’s no way I can sit here all day hoping he comes back. I would be crushed if he never did. Looking over my shoulder, I know I’ll never be able to sit in a library again without thinking about Alex.
Since it’s already getting late, I head back to my parents’ house.
“Mom?” I call, stepping into the house when I arrive home.
“Shh!” my stepfather greets. Because being shushed in the library all afternoon wasn’t enough? “Your mother is very tired from her day.”
“I bet. I’ll check on her before heading to my room,” I whisper over my shoulder, heading down the hall. I just bet a day of shopping while her personal assistant arranges to have her shopping picked up has simply wiped her out. Geez!
“Claire, is that you?” I hear my mother call me from her bedroom. I stick my head into the darkness. She’s had all of the drapes drawn so I can barely see her in her bed.
“Yes, Mom. How are you feeling? How was the shopping?”
With a heavy sigh, she answers, “I’m just exhausted! Did you do any shopping or did you have your head buried in a book all day?”
“Um, I was in the library for most of the day.” I’m glad it’s dark so she can’t see the red creeping up my face. “I’ll leave you to rest Mom, see you at dinner.”
My mother divorced my dad when I was two, marrying the plastic surgeon she had been having an affair with the moment the papers were filed. My dad chose to move to the other side of the country from my mom.
I prefer holidays at my quiet apartment, but my stepfather’s guilt-ridden phone call pulled me home instead. My mother has always tended to give a flourish of drama to everything she does. I’ve learned to just fly under the radar since I’ve never really lived up to the expectations established by my siblings. We can’t all be surgeons or models.
I am reminded constantly that it’s not enough just to make good grades, excel at sports, or want to improve my community. I should strive for something more.
I laugh as I throw myself down on the bed. I bet they would suffer from extreme emotional distress if they only knew what “more” involved today.
Pulling the beanie out of my bag, I lay it over my face, blocking out the late afternoon sun from my windows. Inhaling deeply, I can see his eyes twinkling behind his glasses as he grinned at me. Huh, the beanie smells vaguely of Irish Spring. Well, that seems weirdly appropriate.
“Really, Claire? Another ugly hat?” Moving the hat, I see my sister standing in the door. Her perfectly manicured hand on her perfectly sized hip.
“Just something I picked up this afternoon,” I answer, feeling somewhat defensive.
“Well, Dad is taking us out, so if you need to borrow something appropriate, let me know.” Rolling my eyes, I sit up.
“I’m sure I can manage,” I holler after Sienna as she stomps back down the hall. Most of the closet in my old room is full of Mom’s clothes except for a single dress I brought with me for just such an occasion. All of the closets of this eight-bedroom home are full of her clothes. More clothes than I could work through in a year.
I debate the shower, but decide I have time to slip into the giant soaker tub. Easing in, I hiss at the sting of the hot water. I’m still sore from my encounter in the library.
Closing my eyes, I slide down until just my head is above the water. I slowly feel myself relaxing when my brain tells me there is something slightly familiar about Alex. No, I’ve just replayed this afternoon so many times already in my head, I just think that.
Shaking my head, I sigh, relaxing back as I see that smile light up in front of my closed eyes. Still, there’s something about that grin.
Surviving dinner is a matter of keeping my mouth shut and agreeing with whatever clever thing is said. My brother tries his best to ask me about my life, but each time my mother interrupts to retrain his attention on her. Finally, he just shrugs at me with a half-hearted smile before giving up.
My brother is a pretty good guy. He’s six years older than me, with a brilliant, growing career as a surgeon. He has a perfect wife sitting next to him, pregnant with their second child. Their perfect toddler son is at home with a babysitter.
I might sound harsh, but in reality I really like all of them. He has always taken an interest in what I do and his wife has gone out of her way to include me in their life.
My sister, however, is nothing like my brother. No, she definitely took after our mother. She was four when our mother remarried. Where it always made me uncomfortable to grow up lacking for nothing, she thrived. She is pampered, spoiled, and selfish, she is also currently fawning all over the boyfriend of the week.
I feel sorry for him, he looks enamored with her. I hate to tell him that she’ll move on to the next one as early as next week. My stepfather feeds into her and my mother’s insipid attitudes by pampering them and granting their every wish. Mother still looks like she is in her thirties, so he is more than happy to keep her arm-candy ready.
I’m the puzzle piece that doesn’t fit into this picture. Mother always told me it’s because I take too much after my father. I like to think they found me somewhere along the way on the side of the road or a dumpster, I’m not picky.
