And Then We Fell Apart (18+)

chapter 2

Mom and I keep our promise to each other and wake up bright and early to start unpacking.

Mari also keeps her promise to us and arrives at nine with bagels and coffee. She helps my mom with the stuff that I'm fairly certain I can't carry, and then we leave the rest for the movers who have been working nonstop since noon.

I do my best to unpack my room with what I can, stacking my books by color on the bookshelf that Mari insists her and my mom can carry up the stairs on their own. They do it, but then vow to each other that it's the one and only heavy thing they will lift. But they agree that it's good to know they can still do it at almost forty.

As I head down the stairs, I notice it's almost two according the clock that's now hung up at the end of the stairs. I remember that Mari promised her son would come over and help, but he's nowhere to be seen. I kind of wish that promise was kept too, but two out of three isn't so bad.

"How's it going?" Mom asks when she's folding throw blankets and putting them in a storage ottoman. She's smiling, a common sight from the last two days.

Movers run in and out of the house, making it look so much easier as they carry dressers and couches and tables like it's absolutely nothing at all. They put Mari, Mom and me to shame, though we don't seem to mind. The house is finally coming together, and the pink hydrangeas from Mari on the counter don't look so silly anymore now that there's other stuff to fill the empty space.

"Everything in my room is done. Obviously not my bed, I think the movers are getting that next. But everything else," I smile, looking over to Mari. "Hey, didn't you say your son was going to come over and help?"

Does that sound too desperate? I hope it doesn't.

Mari laughs, polishing glassware with a green towel before sliding it into the wine rack. "He suckered me in to letting him play with his friends instead. You should go join them, they're probably in the backyard or on the beach."

I look to my mom who I know would rather I help unpack, but I've already done so much. She's hesitant but she nods, and I try to play it cool like it isn't one of the more exciting things I've heard in quite a while.

"What's his name again?" I ask.

"Sam."

Sam.

The first person from Lewes Beach to offer me any kindness other than Mari. I stayed with him in the bathtub until almost eleven o'clock when Stella barged in, stifling a laugh as if to call the both of us ridiculous before saying: "Chandler, your mom is looking for you."

I nod and wave goodbye to the kind boy who closes his DVD player when I leave. I wonder what he's going to do next, but I leave too quickly to find out. A part of me hopes I can see him again.

And I do. When I finally head outside on the back deck, I immediately squint from the hot June sun that relentlessly beats down on its surroundings. Including me. It's got to be at least eighty-five today.

I look over the deck for the second time, amazed by the tall brush that separates our house from the beach. The way the breeze pulls it back and forth looks so effortless and smooth. It makes me want to lay in it and disappear from everyone, only to reappear when I'm ready. It's lush and long and vast, but it's nowhere near as intoxicating as the bright blue water from the Atlantic Ocean that stares back at me.

The water appears calm, but the sound of the waves tells me different. It's so beautiful and peaceful, I'm suddenly regretting every prematurely negative comment I've made about this place. It's far more than I could have ever imagined, and I'm starting to be okay with living here.