Riley
Today was hard.
Dom has been working all day, so instead of having him as a distraction, the pain that surges every now and then when the memory of my parents is too strong hits me harder than I thought.
There are days when I have to remember I learned to pick myself up once, and I can do it again, even on days like today, when it feels like I’m going to crawl out of my skin.
I cleaned, painted, ran, and organized everything I could for Monday, and I’m still a little restless.
But I’m going to get my shit together and go celebrate the fact that things with Lilly and I are better, even if I don’t have my parents here to remind me. Growing up, my parents were everything to me. They were my rock, my steady place, my shoulder to cry on, the only two people who never made me feel like a burden. And when I lost them, I lost that too.
People don’t talk enough about all the things death takes from you. It’s beyond the physical bodies of the people it took; it’s memories never made, possibilities, comfort, and heaven on Earth.Death takes shoulders to cry on, favorite scents, and understanding like nothing else does. And I hate that it took them.
Mom was the glue holding everything in place, and without her, the lights dimmed, the schedules shifted, and it all fell apart little by little.
Then Dad followed, taking with him the last spark of joy and hope we all had. We’ve all been walking around surviving, not thriving, without them, and they would hate it.
I knock on Lilly’s blue door I painted so many summers ago. I thought she would be mad, but she never even bitched about it. I’m still surprised. Willa was chill about her pink one, but I for sure thought Lilly would throw a fit. She even thanked me for it.
And looking back, I wonder how many of our interactions were not as bad as I made them out to be just because I didn’t see Lilly for the broken-hearted eldest child who also lost her parents and freedom.
And here I was, calling her an uptight bitch. I’ve been so, so wrong, all my life practically—from the teenage angst to the pissed young adult who left to go to college, thinking the worst of her.
No more.
I get her now, and I know she sees me. It’s time to make this better for everyone around. She’s not dead, and my relationship with her is worth mending.
“Open up, Lils!” I shout, a mirror of last night outside Dom’s door, but I refuse to let the outcome be the same. He wants to stop whatever we had going on, so be it, but I won’t let that happen to Lilly and me.
She swings the door open in a turquoise robe, with a matching hair towel, slippers, and a facemask.
I snort a laugh. Of course she would color code her wellness fit.
“What?” she asks, and I can’t hold it in and laugh louder. “See? This is why I don’t do things for me anymore. There’s always a damn fire to put out. Can’t even wash my hair without someone needing something.”
“Lilly,” I cackle.
“Just tell me. What is it?”
“Nothing is wrong. I’m here because we’re going out.” I push her back inside of her cabin, shutting the door behind me. The scent transports me to easier and happier days, back when our relationship wasn’t tainted by roadblocks and responsibilities.
“I’m not going out. See what I’m doing? Relaxing before the kids come Monday.”
I hold her hands. “Babe, you don’t need to stay in here to relax. You need to let loose. Locking yourself in with your overthinking brain is not going to help you achieve what you want, but going line dancing with me will.”
“No, it won’t.”
I shake her hands up and down. “It will, and we are. Go, get ready. I’m not taking no for an answer.”
“I hate dancing.”
“You don’t.” I tip toe around her and take a seat on her plush chair in the middle of her living room.
“I just washed my hair. I don’t want to sweat.”
I gasp, bringing my hands to my chest. “Blasphemy! You don’t sweat.” I do spirit fingers in the air. “You sparkle.”
She smiles and shakes her head. “It’s late.”
