I let out a sigh as I sit on my navy leather sofa and pull out my phone to ask my assistant, Mark, to make the plans.
4
Ivy
IfIgothemost direct route, and I usually do, driving to the restaurant from my sister’s house takes me past our childhood home. I’m practical and usually do what is most efficient, but today I’m driving the long way. I’m not in the mood for a walk down memory lane.
I’m hit with memories anyway, as I drive by our middle school. I see Val. Her dead eyes and defeated posture as she dragged her backpack to my twenty-year-old Buick. I’d picked her up an hour after she was supposed to be picked up. She had a club meeting after school, and mom assured us she would pick her up. I don’t know why either of us believed her. She’d given us no reason to; she was as unreliable as she was uncaring. All her care and attention went outside our family. I playedbasketball all throughout high school. She made it to one game. One. The boosters were fundraising, so the important school people were there. She needed to make an appearance.
We’d never known our father, but I always believed living with him would be better than raising Val on my own. I was never able to figure out who he was.
I pull up to the back of the restaurant, and a tear escapes as I look up at the window of my apartment where my dainty white curtain used to hang. I glance at the notebook in the passenger seat. My plan had been to look around now that the space had been totally cleaned out. I’d thought I would finalize my notes and plans and get everything to my contractor. But I don’t think I can go in. The thought of seeing it sitting there empty is too much. I’m still not over seeing it just after the fire.
Still, I’m overwhelmed. There’s so much to do. I need to get the ball rolling. Not only am I missing out on a paycheck while it’s closed, but many of my employees are taking time off until I reopen, finding work here and there when they can. I’m suddenly overwhelmed by the responsibility of it.
And I’m struck again with the need for a partner. Even if he isn’t involved in the restaurant at all, just to have him in my corner. And hugs. I love hugs. I always thought I would be fine on my own, but it’s hard to hug yourself.
My practical side decides to fight for dominance. I’m about to be gone for two weeks. I need to get things going so workcan happen while I’m gone. I glance at the apartment window and decide to see this as the opportunity it is. I can take this blank slate and make it into something even better than it was. Maybe I would like to have a partner in this, but I don’t necessarily need one. It’s gonna be great.
“Anizey! Do you have Scuffy?” Juniper calls from her room down the hall.
“Why would I have your bear?” I call back, adding a pair of shorts to my suitcase and checking off my list.
Juniper doesn’t answer. The house is in the typical pre-vacation chaos. Mom may not have taken care of us, but she did take us on vacations—an impressive person needs impressive family photos—so the pre-vacation chaos is a familiar feeling.
I create a new list of items to get in the morning. Charger. Toothbrush. Hairbrush. Book. That’s it. It’s a short list, but I feel better having it.
“Can you help Peter pare down the plane entertainment he’s taking?” Val asks, sticking her head in my room. “I’m sure you’re basically packed, and I am not at all ready.”
She’s not wrong. Sometimes I think I spoiled my sister a bit by doing so much for her for too long. And being the person who kept her on track with whatever she needed to be doing.
“Sure thing. Is he packed otherwise?”
“Yeah. I packed him yesterday. Stop looking at me like you’re proud. I’m a fully functioning adult who has kept two children alive, well, and happy for over nine years now.”
I laugh, not having realized I’d made any sort of face. “I know you have and you’re great at it.”
“Thank you, and thanks for helping. He stopped listening to me and I couldn’t give any more time explaining why we can’t take twenty picture books or slime on an airplane.”
“I’ll do my best,” I say with a flourish as I zip my suitcase.
“Have either of you seen my toothbrush?” asks Juniper.
“Shouldn’t it be where you left it after brushing your teeth this morning?” her mother asks.
“You would think,” Juniper says, looking unsure.
“Go look again, honey.”
Val is letting Juniper pack her own bag for the first time. She’s thrilled, but I plan to take a look in the bag after she goes to bed.
I can’t help it.
When the kids are packed and in their pajamas, they ask me to read their bedtime story. When they fight over whose turn it is to choose the book, I tell them that it’s my turn. I pullPeter Panfrom the shelf and read to them about three children who live in London, and caution them against sleeping with the window open while we’re there.
5
Alexander
