The Bucketlist

63 | WHO MAKES IT TO FOREVER?

One. Two. Three. Four. Just ten more steps. I was going to make it in without getting caught. Ten more steps. Seven. Eight. Ni-

"Eva, don't sneak around the house. Come here!" Martha called out. Bruno woofed and gave me away. The idea was to leave the house unnoticed, so neither Martha nor Mom knew about what was up.

"I told you I'd take you with me, attaboy. Why'd you do that?" I asked, looking at him with teary eyes.

Maybe Bruno doesn't trust me enough. That could be the only explanation. If I were Bruno, I wouldn't trust me either. I was tired of being so unreliable that even my shadows don't follow me around.

"Turn the lights on, and stop sulking in the dark!" Martha yelled. Oh, that's why there are no shadows, there is no light. I couldn't decide which one was worse. Sadness makes you philosophical cause I don't remember thinking this deep about life in my third year of philosophy.

I hit the buttons, and then it struck me that I wasn't afraid in the dark room. Maybe, because of the glow stars. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Try not to remember dad. Don't. Don't. Damn. Tears pooled in my eyes. Dad's warm smile on a summer evening, the day we went to the beach, played on loop in my head, and then it all faded to pictures of mom kissing that asshole. Tears dripped down my cheeks as I stepped onto the patio while Martha drank her evening Chamomile Tea.

"I know you found out about Ron and your mom," Martha said, and I felt my face ashen.

"You knew about them?" I asked, and she nodded, taking another sip.

"Everyone does, Eva. They are the hottest couple on this street!" Martha said, and my mouth dropped open.

"Don't say a word!" I screamed in anger, not realizing I was crying a lot.

"Eva, come here, honey." She said, placing the cup on the table as she opened her arms, and I couldn't help but hug her back. It was how it has always been. I would come from school, counting steps till it was home, feeling lonely and scared, but Martha would pull me into a hug and whisper in my ears that it would always be right, as long as she was there. Mom was never around. She was always busy with the wine business. Dad seldom visited us during holidays, and now everyone was so far away- Dad, Mom, and Will. I always had Martha. I cried bitterly.

"Where have you been the whole day?" She asked, brushing her fingers against my hair.

"I was in the neighborhood," I said. Well, only a part of it was a lie. I was sulking at Ken's from nine to two till they kicked me out, saying I had to place an order or leave. I had eaten six pizzas since morning. I had no choice but to butt out. I spent the noon by Broken Reek, where I stopped by to de-stress. I was tired of everything.

"So Will was here? When?" Martha asked, and although I couldn't see her moon-shaped spectacles, I knew she was messing with me.

"No, he didn't. We met at Ken's." I said, and Martha chuckled.

"That's how you tell the truth. Now, do you plan on visiting Will tonight?" She asked, a little too excited. How much did she know?

"Who's telling you all of this?" I asked quizzically, pulling out of the hug so I could see the crow's feet near her eyes. I sat cross-legged on the patio and didn't mind getting my pants ruined.

"Will called." She said, pressing her lips into a grim line.

"So you know everything, then?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

"That depends on what your idea of everything is, darling." She said, and I watched her in disbelief.

Okay, so no more jokes. That could only mean one thing. Martha was telling me something important. Pay attention, brain. Ears, listen up. Tongues, stop rolling.