A Long Way Home

The Real World

Mia pulled herself out of the memory. She had gone over it again and again since it happened and the end always made her laugh. He was so cocky. She could see that now. Playing with her feelings and making her feel special. But that was what he did. He made women feel special. So special in fact that she had almost given up everything for him. If she had, where would she be? Certainly not still in New York working at a job she loved in a city she hated it. She hadn't intended to stay this long. She had meant to leave the city, get fresh air and more space. She had meant to do it with a partner. But after him, there wasn't anyone worth doing it with.

Sure she could do it by herself. But it was expensive and no matter what people said, life was cheaper with two. You could split rent, split groceries and split general life payments. In a roommate scenario, the splitting was stressful and always full of tense negotiations about who ate the last hummus and who in fact, did purchase said hummus at Trader Joes. For the record, it always was and always would be Mia.

She had thought she would get it together at twenty-eight. But four years had passed. Four years where she worked all the time but never had enough money. Four years where she had switched jobs, gone back to school, moved cities and moved back. All to feel like absolutely nothing had changed.

But she needed it to. She had outgrown her life here. She had come back to New York because her dad was sick. Well he wasn't quite sick at the time but she'd had a premonition about it. She had the sinking feeling in March that something was wrong. She couldn't quite put her finger on it. But the feeling wouldn't abate. That December when he threw up blood she knew there was a reason she came home and its name was Cancer.

In the months since the diagnosis and the treatment, she had retreated. That's what you do when you're overwhelmed by life. You retreat. She had let December to June slip by with little a glance at the outside world. She had bigger concerns like surgeries and recover, chemo and maybe radiation. Then there was the blood clot and the pulmonary embolism. And she knew. She knew this was "light" compared to most people's experiences with Cancer. Cancer with a capital C. But it was still bad and draining and scary. She was still alone during it. She thought about calling him a hundred times but what would she say?

"Hi, long time no speak. My dad has Cancer and I'm afraid?" She could already imagine him being caught off guard. He never handled crisis well. He would go full tortoise at even the slightest hint of unprompted emotion from her. Yes, she desperately wanted to tell him but he couldn't hold space for that. He had his own life now, his own demands. It would have been an unfair ask for her to throw that on him.

So she didn't. She kept it to herself and kept it somewhat together. She maintained a steady job, she saw friends when she could and her dad got better. So much better in fact that she no longer needed to be around. Her family didn't need her for moral support. They made that clear with how often they failed to ask her how she was or how work was going. It was as though they assumed she'd always be around to such an extent that Mia could simply disappear without a trace and no one would notice for at least a week.

At first she fantasized about living in Europe or moving to California but she always came back to the house. The pieces of the house that she began to explore in her mind. She would turn over versions of it and see what felt right. She saw the kitchen first. In the first premonition about the house she was nine months pregnant standing in front of a large white farm sink wearing her husband's shirt. She was barefoot and he was coming through the darkened dining room to the kitchen to help her clean up. She felt his hands on her stomach and his kiss on her forehead. But as hard as she might, she couldn't see his face.

The second premonition came from the dining room. In the vision she's having her photo taken at a child's birthday. Her child's birthday she assumes. It's a little girl, no more than five, with a large cake in front of her and a halo of candles burning brightly. Mia is leaning over her shoulder getting ready to help the little one blow out the candles and she feels, her husband's hand on her back as he leans down on the other side. As if she's a third party observer she can see herself getting her picture taken. She can see the way their faces light up at the camera flash and how she and her husband lean in to kiss the little girl on both of her cheeks. But try as she might, she still can't see his face clearly.