Mare Moody - [blank]

He walks back over to the counter and starts cleaning up the fruit he was showing to Margaret.

“Sure, honey.” Tabitha smiles at him. She walks through the kitchen and into the dining room directly behind it. She places Margaret in the high chair adjacent to the table and walks back over to me.

“Ana is going to spend the night tonight,” Tabitha says to Mark.

He nods in approval and the smile plastered to his face does not falter for a second.

“Let’s get your room ready.” Tabitha smiles at me.

I return the smile and follow her as she walks out of the kitchen, into the great room and up the spiral staircase.

“Mark didn’t think about having kids when we bought this staircase.” She chuckles.

I find it comedic that she has decided to focus on her downfalls rather than her achievements. I continue to follow her and she leads me around the loft and into another wide hallway. The white hallway is lit brightly. The paint assaults my eyes as I walk past.

Huge portraits of her wedding glare back at me. Pictures of an infant Margaret are also hung sporadically across the hallway.

Seeing this idealistic adult life makes me look at mine shamefully. I have completely failed since I lost everything my senior year.

I didn’t go to college because I didn’t get any scholarships, I didn’t get married because Kane went off the deep end before I had time to catch my breath. Maybe it is wrong to be jealous but she has everything figured out and we are the exact same age. She married a man many years her senior and managed to build a house for her family. Her long black hair flows down her back like a dark river as she walks down the hallway. Maybe it is her looks that gave her this life.

I continue to follow her until she walks through a doorway and into a large room. A king sized bed falls in the center of it and the walls are covered in lilac wallpaper.

“Is this ok?” She asks, unsure.

“Yes, this is wonderful.”

She smiles at me again. I can’t tell if she is doing this as a pity favor or if she truly wants to get closer to me. She called me an aunt to her daughter but was that just a nonchalant gesture or does she really care about me still?

She doesn’t care.

You know what she did to you.

I close my eyes. I breathe in sharply through my nose. The voices were at bay for at least a few hours and now that they are back, I don’t know when they will stop. I can’t make it obvious to Tabitha. She can’t know about the tornado going through my brain.

I open my eyes again and she is looking at me with a confused face. I smile quickly to cover up my grimace.

“Just enjoying the smell.” I word vomit.

The smell? Wow. Great job, Ana.

“Alright then.” She slowly nods her head.

She walks to the doorframe and looks back at me.

“Make yourself comfortable, I’ll tell you when dinner is ready.” She walks out and closes the door behind her.

I sit on the bed and look around the room. The lilac wallpaper is fresh and vivid. The whole house looks brand new. On the walls are layers of shelves. More books are neatly lined up on them. Mark’s collection is massive.

I get up and inspect them. Small pictures and little knick knacks are scattered on the shelves. I brush my hand across the hard spines of the books. It ripples down like a forgiving rapids.

My eyes catches on a picture hidden by books. I pick up the books and place them on the bed behind me. I reach into the shelf and grab the frame. When I pull it out, it is covered in dust. I blow it off and look at the picture.

My heart sinks and floats at the same time. This picture is at least 7 years old. Tabitha, Kane and I all stand together with smiles painted firmly on our adolescent faces. I was 16 years old and more naive than I realized.

We all look shockingly different. My hair has grown out and curves have been smoothed over my hips. Tabitha has grown into a more mature face and a thinner body. Kane has changed the most. His baby face and slender shoulders have been completely replaced by a strong chin with chiseled cheekbones and broad shoulders that lead down to a defined chest and abs.

The picture makes me realize just how much has changed. My heart breaks as I realize that I was the only one to be crippled.

I set the picture back down and put the books on top. I wonder if she was hiding it or if she simply forgot. Either way, it has been out of her line of vision for a long time. I did the same thing with my photographs of us.

I walk backwards and look over the room one last time. Margaret is going to have a good life full of love, trust and riches. I wish the same on my unborn children though I can’t promise it and that’s what hurts most.

I open the door and walk back out into the hallway. I gaze into every doorway as I pass them. I see Margaret’s nursery and I peer into the room.

A large bassinet is laid carefully in a nook in the wall. An oak changing table sits next to it. The walls are painted a faint pink and above her bassinet, “Margaret” is written in beautiful typography.

A small smile comes across my face. I walk away from the room and walk onto the loft. I walk alongside the books until I get to the staircase. I walk down and see Tabitha sitting on the couch alone. She is holding a book and is intently reading it.

“Where is everyone?” I ask, walking down to her.

“Mark and Margaret are in the kitchen,” she smiles, “he is showing her the different spices.”

She puts a bookmark in her book and places it on the coffee table. She looks towards me.

“He uses every opportunity to try to teach Margaret things. I’m not sure how much she actually retains.” She laughs.

“I saw an old picture of Kane and us during sophomore year of highschool.” I tell her with a vacillating smile on my face.

She looks at me with wide eyes. She looks surprised perhaps she really had forgotten about it.

“Wow,” she says in shock, “where did you find that?”

“Upstairs in the room,” I say, “it was under a couple books.”

“Man, those were good times,” She say with a laugh.

They were. Those were the days when depression seemed like a foreign concept. I was full of life. We all were. Then life happened. I had my downfall and during it, Kane spun out of control.

“You aren’t still mad at me about the incident, are you?” She asks. Guiltiness fills her eyes and it hits me. I can’t still be mad. It was 7 years ago.

“No,” I say quietly, “it’s fine.”

“I mean, it was only sex.” She loves to make everything understated.

“I guess so,” I agree.

“But I mean, Kane was your boyfriend so I guess that was shitty of me.”

She looks up at my face.

“I really am sorry.” She says amicably

“Me too.”

We sit looking at each other in genuine, nostalgic euphoria. It is interrupted as Mark walks into the great room.

“Dinner is ready.” He looks at us, smiling.

We both get up and walk into the kitchen.

Margaret sits in her chair with happiness written all over her little face. This whole family fills their house to the brim with nothing but good vibes. This is something I truly yearn for.

I sit on a dinner room chair and look across the table. Mark gazes sweetly at his wife. I will have that soon. I swear it.

I smile, “Thank you for your hospitality.”

“It’s really no problem, Ana,” Mark replies, “our house is always open to friends.”

Tabitha gets off of her chair, walks over to Margaret and takes a rag against her chin. The toddler is covered in tomato sauce. She giggles and licks her fingers.