Skipping Stones - COMPLETE

Chapter 15

I PUT THE last few things into my bags. A few of my best friends have come by to tell me goodbye. We promise to write, to keep in touch. But let's face it. The reality is that I've lost more than my parents. My life is no longer what it was.

All I can think about is that I can't wait to get back to Drew. If I haven't learned anything else...the one thing I have learned is that when I'm with him, the pain is so much less intense. He makes all of this manageable. When I'm with him, I can forget for a few minutes. He reminds me that there's hope for healing.

"Alex," Memaw says.

Her green eyes are bloodshot. I know this has been equally as hard on them as it has been for me. Yet, I rarely see them cry anymore. "Yes Ma'am?"

"You 'bout ready?"

I nod. From a packing standpoint I'm ready. From a heart standpoint I'm not. "Just a minute alone, please, before we leave."

"Mhmm," she murmurs as she turns and walks down the stairs.

Waiting, standing motionless until I hear the door to the house close, I realize I've been in all the living areas and my room today. The one room I haven't is theirs. Unsure if I could do it at first, now that the time has come to leave this house, I'm not sure that I can just leave without going in there.

Tossing the last few things into my bag, I pull the zipper and place it beside my door as I make my way down the hall to their room. It's not like it will be the same. Memaw and Papa have moved a lot of their belongings to storage. It's mainly just the furniture. The realtor came today and put it up for sale. She wanted us to leave enough to help with staging.

I've known that the house is being sold for a week now. At first I was really angry, but I understand now why it has to happen. My parents had some life insurance, but not enough to get rich. My grandparents can't afford this mortgage. It's so much change for me so fast. It's hard enough to move to another house in the same city, but this entire ordeal has happened so suddenly. I'm not just going to a new school. I'm going to a new town. New friends. New everything. And I hate it.

Papa decided we could hire movers for the rest of the stuff. We just took valuables and things we wanted to move to Graniteville today. I needed to pack up my room. They think that if I have my stuff at their house, it will help me move on because it will feel more permanent.

Right now, I'm not sure anything can help me move on. Partly because I don't want to. I want to live in daydreams where my parents are still real to me. When I get to my parents' room, it looks so bare. There are no pictures on the nightstands. Mom had one of Dad and me. Dad had one of Mom and me. The framed picture above the bed that said, "Because two people fell in love," is gone. It's just an empty room with furniture.

Empty. That's how I feel. I feel empty. Like there's nothing left in me other than anger, denial, and such sadness. I'm no longer the happy, perky teen I had been just weeks ago. I make my way to their bed and plop down. Taking a deep breath, I try so hard to inhale their scent, but instead my nostrils are filled with the smell of Tide and Downy. Of course Memaw washed the linens today.

Tears trickle down my cheek at yet another loss, at yet another stitch being ripped from my heart. I clench the duvet, letting the bed absorb and muffle my wails.

Minutes later, I compose myself to leave this house. Grabbing my duffel and backpack on the way down, I stop myself as I go to put them on the same way I had done just a month before. Something about doing things in the same fashion as I had done them that fateful day feels so incredibly wrong. I decide to put one in one hand, and the other bag in another. Holding my head high, I walk with the little bit of dignity I have left down the stairs, and out of the house that is no longer my home.

***

THE FATIGUE QUICKLY sets in on the ride home, and I napped most of the way. The eerie familiarity of the trip causes a pit to form in my stomach. The urge to use the bathroom is what woke me. The scenery is similar to the scenery I saw that day, except I think we're closer than we had been. I'm pretty sure I know exactly where we are. Within a few seconds a green mile marker confirms. Fifteen. We're four miles from our exit.

Something about asking to go to the bathroom at this point feels so wrong. Fear, I guess. Fear that if I do things exactly the way I had that day, that history will repeat itself. It's all a bit too deja vu for me.

"Did you have a nice nap, Alex dear?" Memaw asks.

My voice cracks. My throat is dry, but I don't want anything to drink at this point. "I did. Interesting how well you can sleep when you're emotionally and physically exhausted," I admit.

"No nightmares?" Papa interjects.

I shake my head. "Not this time."

He nods. "Good girl." I can see his lips curve into a smile. "Therapy seems to be helping you."

Glancing out the window, I'm not sure that it's the therapy as much as it is Drew Foster. The few times there has been respite from the nightmares were replaced with dreams of white horses, carriages, glass slippers, and a certain prince charming. That thought makes me smile. "Sure," I acknowledge. Maybe it's the combo. They can believe what they want. I'll believe what I want, which is that the true therapy is Drew.

Soon, we're off the exit. There aren't really any gas stations off this one. I know there won't be a place to stop until we're home. Thankfully, they don't live that far away from here. I stop my thoughts, and correct myself. Thankfully we don't live that far away from here. I think of how much easier it is to hold my bladder this go around. The pain of having to go to the bathroom is nothing compared to the memories. The ones that cut at my heart. The only reminders of the last time I traveled these roads.

I put in the ear buds to my Discman, and try to go to a different place through music. A place that's happy, where teenage girls don't know the agony that I know. My mind drifts to Drew. Just a few minutes until I get to see him again.

He'll certainly take my mind to happier places. The minutes that it takes to get home seem to be some of the longest minutes of my life. I don't know what it is about coming back from a trip. It always seems ten times longer than the trip to wherever.

Drew burned me a CD of songs that he thought I would like. The nice thing about this CD is that it doesn't remind me of my parents. The memories are new. They are of good times. Maybe I'll make him one. Ha. I would if I had any idea of how to do that. Oh well. I smile as I look out of the window. It's the thought that counts anyway, right?

We are two turns from the house. We have to drive by Drew's on the way home. I take my headphones out and ask, "Hey. Can you just drop me off at Drew's on the way home?"

"No. We're going to have supper here in a few minutes," Papa answers so quickly, it's almost like he knew I'd ask and had already thought of the answer.

"Well, can he come over for dinner then?" They call it supper, but we've always called it dinner. I refuse to switch.

"Yes'um I suppose so," he responds.

"Yes!" I put my headphones down and turn the Discman off. When we approach his house, I notice something new. Something unwelcome. That can't be in front of his house. With each moment, it becomes more and more clear that it is. "Is that a For Rent sign in his front yard?"