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Adrenaline coursed through her as the emotions melted together in her gut. She felt excited to be back and see all that she knew. But what worried her was her high expectations of the place she once knew and what might happen to the life she’d built without it.
This was so unlike April, to go off on her own just because she wanted to. Flying in an airplane hundreds of miles away from the comfort of her house, her job, her family. Or what her family used to be. Now she didn’t mind forgetting Carl for a little while.
Carl didn’t know much about Sandcrest. He didn’t know that on Sundays the streets filled with noise as everyone went out to the markets. And that April used to ride on her father’s shoulders eating an apple as they roamed the vendors.
He didn’t know that every summer April would beg until her parents gave in to visiting their vacation home just one more time.
April’s memories that she held so dear were hers alone, she realized. As was the pain she felt when she thought about leaving the island with her parents for the last time.
The last night of vacation was traditionally reserved for dinner at the island’s Italian restaurant. Her parents knew the owner who got them the best table in the house, overlooking the beach below.
“What are you getting tonight, sweetheart?” her mother asked her as she nudged closer. “The usual carbonara or something new this time?”
April just shook her head.
“Always the carbonara,” her mother said with a smile. April looked over her menu to her father, not even casually staring at the waitress.
Caroline had shot a death glare at him, but he was too transfixed to notice.
Her mother cleared her throat. “So, are we ready?” She called the waitress over, who was already paying too much attention to the table. Her father looked the waitress up and down with a smile.
Even fourteen-year-old April could understand what was going on. And she was as uncomfortable as her mother. Though she had to admit, this wasn’t the first time it happened. But it was the most blatant. “What can I get for you?” she asked, staring right into her father’s smiling face.
Her father ordered something she couldn’t remember, then her mother, then she ordered her own carbonara. “Richard, did you have to look at her like that?”
“Oh what, I’m not allowed to look at a waitress? I was talking to her.” His voice always reeked of passive aggressive tones and deceit. He smirked even as he tried to lie straight to her mother’s face.
Caroline smiled at April. She smiled back despite knowing exactly what was going on. They always thought she was too young, too naive, too ignorant to understand what transpired between them, but truthfully April had been catching on for months by that point.
Still her father stared. “Richard. You could at least wait until the end of dinner to gawk.”
He rolled his eyes and looked down at April. “Do you think I was gawking? Do you know what that word means?”
Caroline clutched her chest with a hand. “Don’t you bring her into this.” They talked under hushed tones in the middle of the restaurant. “She doesn’t need to be in the middle. Take some responsibility, get yourself together, and we’ll talk about this when we get home.”
And with that, the family became silent. April had munched nervously on her bread. When their meals finally came, she didn’t have much of an appetite. The air was so thick with tension April could barely breathe.
They tucked each other’s leftovers into to-go containers and made their way back to the vacation home.
April knew what was coming. Her mom’s fingers gripped her tightly as they walked. Her father acted as if nothing was wrong, every once in a while a smile on his face.
Walking back towards the house, they could hear every step, every rock that their feet scraped; it sounded like rumbles of ground slowly splitting open. April’s world was shaking.
It hadn’t always been like that, but she knew the tension had been building for months. Desperately she wanted to fix it, like she could put a Band-Aid on her parent’s relationship.
That’s what their last trip to Sandcrest was, a Band-Aid on a wound too large to stop the bleeding.
When they’d finally arrived at the house, her mother asked her to go to her bedroom for the night and get ready for bed. April agreed, but only because she couldn’t sit in the discomfort much longer.
Her parents didn’t come to kiss her goodnight, or turn out the lights. She heard them yell until the early hours of the morning. Until finally it stopped. April heard the front door creak open, then shut.
It was hard to go to sleep after that. April stayed up and stared at the ceiling, wondering what would become of her family. This house was the only place she wanted to be. If she didn’t leave the bedroom, maybe everything would be fine, like it was before. She didn’t need to walk out of there.
Unfortunately, she did the next morning. The house was dead quiet, except for her suitcase that she dragged behind her. Silence threatened to choke her as she tried not to make a single sound.
And she sat beside her mother on their flight home.
Young April watched out the window as they left her happy place. It was the last time April remembered being that happy. Her childhood was all sunshine and roses until that last day.
