Julie shines another smile. “Invitation is open.”
“I appreciate that.”
“Hey,” one of the boys from the makeshift football field calls.
As the girls turn to walk away, Julie spins back to me. “Hey, don’t mention the party to Mom.”
“I wasn’t planning on it. Just get home tonight.”
With another shrug, my sister turns back to her friends. More giggles fill the air as they run toward the stands.
A few minutes later back in the car, I find myself driving to the old McKenna farm.
It’s obvious from the road that the old barn is gone. When the trees are filled with mature leaves, you could see the peaks of the roof above the branches. Now, the lot is empty. I pull onto the dirt lane. The surface is bumpy,filled with ruts and holes left by the recent rains. Nearly half a mile later, the lane narrows and winds into a wooded area.
I’m not sure if I’ve ever been back this far.
I follow the lane. After two hundred yards, the road dips down a hill. At the bottom, the trees part and I find exactly what the girls told me about. There’s a pond, a large grassy field, and near the shore, there are three or four boys stacking brush and dead trees. They pause for a moment to look at my car, and just as quickly go back to their project.
I hadn’t given much thought to the idea that other students would come back for the funeral. Maybe I was thinking too much about myself.
Who else is here?
Turning the car around, I head back up the hill, down the lane, and out to the main road. My tires spin on the loose dirt as mud pings against the undercarriage. Nearly twenty minutes later, I pull into the parking area behind the cottages. This time I check for certain.
My car is alone. No blue truck.
Inserting the key into the lock, I twist one way and the other. Finally, I hear the click. It’s as I turn the knob that I realize I just locked the door. But I locked it when I left.
I think I did.
Peering around the inside, I see everything as I left it and shake my head.
“You’re resurrecting too many ghosts,” I tell myself.
The entire time I unpack the groceries, I think about that bonfireand Julie.
She doesn’t need her big sister. She never has. Or at the very least, she’s never had the opportunity forthisbig sister.
With the groceries put away and a salad from the grocery store salad bar chilling in the refrigerator, I pour a glass of wine and decide to call my sister Olivia. Maybe my first little sister has been enough big sister for Julie.
Settling upon the sofa near the fireplace with the stem of the wine glass secure in one hand, I hit Liv’s number with the other. After a sip, I bring the phone to my ear. Liv answers right away.
“I heard you were in Blue Gil,” she says in place of a salutation.
“For a little while.”
“Mom said it’s for work, but you’re making time for family.”
Her tone is light and chipper, yet her words cause the wine in my stomach to percolate. “Hey, how is Julie?”
“How is she?”
“Yeah, how is she? I suck as a big sister and thought maybe you decided to take the job.”
My sister forces a laugh. “I didn’t exactly sign up for it, but I guess it’s mine.” She sighs. “It’s not been an easy year for her. It’s a weird dynamic at home. Going from the baby with three older siblings to having Mom and Dad’s full attention, when honestly, I think they’re both ready for the empty nest.”
“So do they pay attention to what she’s doing?”
