Homewrecker

07 - 𝓷𝓾𝓶𝓫

The Solidays were getting ready to leave for their lake house, which I already knew, but the hard shell suitcases lined up in the kitchen near the refrigerator, neck pillows around the handles like they were traveling further away than just fifty minutes, and packages of unopened pool floaties of brightly colored things—like donuts or unicorns—would've probably given me a good indication of that too.

And like David mentioned earlier, Amy had been out for most of the day, shopping for whatever she thought I might need. In the canvas bags she carried into the house, there was an electric toothbrush—one I recognized as expensive, too expensive, and I made the decision right there that I wasn't going to use it—natural whitening toothpaste, a hairbrush, bobby pins. There were socks, various types of cellphone chargers like she wasn't sure which kind to get which I guess she wouldn't be, and a soap that smelled like lavender. The packaging said it was supposed to be calming, relaxing, proven to help you fall asleep faster at night. I just stared at it, in disbelief that she actually believed that.

She brought me into a tight, floral scented embrace as soon as she set the bags down on the kitchen floor as David and I followed her into the house, after excitedly exclaiming my name when I first got out of the car.

It was weird, and almost unsettling, how enthusiastic a stranger could be to see me. I concluded it must have been fake—a show similar to one she put on whenever the news cameras were around performed by the perfect wife and mother—as she rocked from side to side for a moment before leaning back, examining me.

"You've grown up so much," she said, and her hand flittered around my face for a moment before she retracted her arms from me, taking a step back. "You've become such a beautiful woman, Bronwyn."

I looked away, glancing at the oven that appeared as if it was built into the light gray walls. "Thanks," I mumbled, hesitantly. Their kitchen looked like it was as big as our whole trailer, with new shiny appliances and granite countertops that gleamed under the warm light shining from under the cupboards.

She smiled, then turned to the bags around her feet. "I wasn't sure what size you were, so I got a couple of different ones for you to wear until we can go shopping and you can pick out what you want," she told me, reaching inside the canvas and pulling out a silk black pajama set.

I took them from her, but only because I really didn't want to sleep in Indie's shorts and t-shirt. "These are my friend's," I told her, pulling at the fabric of my shirt, deciding not to mention that I wasn't going to be here long enough to go shopping. "I need to get them back to her."

She nodded, quickly. "Yes, of course. Just change into those, and I'll wash them. We can mail them to her?" She looked over my shoulder, at David behind me. He was smoothing a hand over the kitchen island—which they had, like their kitchen was so big it needed its own island—and looking away from both of us. "Or when we go back to Shiloh. We'll go back all the time so you can still see your friends."

"Yeah," I said, slowly, "because I'm going back soon. It's just too chaotic to find my mom right now but she'll probably call me tomorrow or something."

Something flashed across her eyes, nodding again but not as quickly. "Yeah, honey," she said, and her voice sounded like it was trying to be reassuring, which really only annoyed me. Even though I felt like it, I didn't want to be treated like a little kid lost in a store, searching for her mom. "Your dad has been on the phone with the police and fire rescuers, letting them know to be on the lookout for your mom."

The aggravation I felt at hearing her refer to David as my dad was blanketed by a new current of dread washing over me as I realized that even with first responders searching specifically for her, no one could find her.