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I hear a faint hiss of my name being called. “I'm being summoned, I guess.” I shrug to Emmett before turning back around. “Think she has any dresses in my size?”
I follow Allie down the hall, eyes dancing around the space, surprised to see that it looks the same. His mom’s dried potpourri is gone, the floral decorations are no longer on the walls but as I pass the hall bathroom, I can see it’s still painted the same light lavender color. The kitchen boasts the same floral wallpaper border. His mom had a thing for flowers and pastels.
“The house looks almost exactly the same as I remember it.” I turn back to face Emmett, finding him standing directly behind me, almost too close for comfort. I sidestep to the left to give some much-needed space between us. “I can’t believe you kept the carpet.” I point to the staircase, noticing his mom’s light pink shag carpet is still perfectly intact.
“I’ve thought about tearing it up, having the staircase and upstairs match the living room, but it’s still in such good shape I don’t have the heart to do it. You know how my mom was with her possessions, she believed if you took care of what you had, it would last forever.”
That mantra could be applied to a lot of things in life.
“Nenna,” a small voice whispers.
I turn to view the living room as the tail end of Allie’s princess dress disappears into a homemade blanket fort. She has the ultimate set up—the kitchen barstools gathered in a semi-circle around the back of the recliner, creating the perfect child-sized princess fort. Her face peeks out of the slit in the blanket, and she smiles up at me.
“Can I come hang out with you in your fort?”
She nods enthusiastically, but corrects me, “Castle.”
“Castle, of course.” I walk toward the castle, noting the living room looks the same except with new furniture. He put the couch in the same spot along the staircase that his mom had theirs. My eyes rise to the French patio doors that lead out to the backyard, and I stop abruptly outside of the blanket castle when I see it.
The tire swing.
With my eyes focused on the black tire strung up with corded rope, a dusting of snow covering it, I call over my shoulder to Emmett. “Is that the same tire swing?”
He comes up behind me, close enough that the towel slung over his shoulder brushes against mine. “Of course. I think my parents kept it hoping one of you girls would come over and swing on it. Once spring comes, I know Allie will want to use it.”
“One of you girls.” He says that as if I’m still a part of his family. Like I belonged in this home as much as they did.
“What is it with girls and tire swings?”
I lift my head from the rubber of the tire and look up to see Emmett shutting the patio door leading into the backyard. “My sister used to always come out here and swing like you are when she needed to think.”
“Your sister was on to something.” I adjust my legs inside the large tire, feeling the warmth from the sun that’s heated the rubber seep into my skin. I pump my legs a little, trying to swing myself back and forth.
The last few days of summer are dwindling. All our friends are getting excited to go off to college, and Emmett leaves for lineman school in six days. I had planned to apply to schools in the same general area Emmett would be, but my dad pointed out that it doesn’t make sense to waste time and money with college when I don’t have a real plan. He’s stationed in New Mexico permanently and says there are a lot of places for to find work, so two days after Emmett moves south, I’ll pack my life into my biggest suitcase and fly to my dad’s house. There’s a sour burning that started in my stomach the day I realized I won’t have Emmett in my daily life, and it grows stronger with each passing day.
“Whatcha thinking?” Emmett asks, approaching my backside. He reaches a large hand up to grasp the rope and pulls back, letting the tire swing forward with me in it.
The creak of the rope wrapped around the branch sets a rhythm with his pushes, and I let him take control, my legs dangling beneath me.
“Thinking about life. About what’s next, I guess.” I rest my cheek on the side of the tire. “Sometimes I wish I was like you, you’ve had your plan to be a lineman your whole life, just needed to decide where to go. I have no idea where I see myself, what life will turn out like.”
“Have you applied to any schools?”
I ignore his question, pushing my toes off the ground for more momentum as I lean back, stretching my arms long and letting my hair loose. The wind picks up, fingers combing through my locks as I stare up at the sky, shutting my eyes to block out the bright sunshine.
“Jenna,” he chides.
“What’s the point, Emmett? My dad is right, there is no sense in wasting time in school if I don’t know what I want to do. I’ll move out there, get a waitressing job, maybe bartending. Let’s not pretend I don’t have any options.”
He doesn't see the humor in my situation. Instead, he moves closer, placing both hands around me to continue pushing. “I think that’s more your dad’s opinion. What do you want?”
As a kid, we moved around all the time, and I told myself I wanted to live somewhere long-term, to put down roots. When we moved to Chicago, I met Emmett and loved staying in one place. But the thought of living here without him, without his family, has me feeling all sorts of anxious. I want to move around again, see the country, but I want to do it on my terms.
“I don’t know,” I tell him honestly.
He pushes me again, and I spin myself around in the swing so I’m facing him as he pushes.
“What do you see me doing?”
