The Summer I Met You

CHAPTER 2

                                          

Her bleach blonde hair peeks out from the small opening in her hat. She has her suitcases firmly in hand as she walks away. I'm stunned for a moment by her attitude, but I'm honestly not shocked at all.

Lennox Taylor, lead actress in Starlien, the worst teen show to grace the airwaves just proved to me that she truly is a miserable human being. The interviews I've seen haven't been too pleasant and this solidified that.

Her straight out of Hollywood glam look holds my attention for a few seconds longer, until I can no longer see her amongst the sea of people.

Maybe I should have stayed away, but I noticed something purple on the floor behind the carousel. My first thought was, just leave it Max, she'll realize it eventually. I can do something nice for someone who deserves it instead.

Her voice still rang loud and clear, and guilt grew heavier on my shoulders with every step. Mom taught me to always be kind to others and I couldn't just ignore someone so upset at something I could fix. Who knows, maybe good karma will come my way. I sure could use some of it.

A generic ringtone interrupts my thoughts as I reach for my bags that are still spinning around. Before answering I reach out and grab the two old beaten up suitcases - held together with silver duct tape. I drop them to the floor then pull the phone from one of the front pockets on my khaki shorts. The screen is a little cracked but shelling out the money for a new phone was not happening. I was lucky enough to be able to make it to New York this summer, all thanks to my uncle who paid for it.

"Hello?"

"Hey Max, did you land okay?"

Mom's voice is a little panicked. A wall of guilt hits me. Am I being selfish for taking a break this summer? Mom hasn't had it easy the past few years, but at least she had dad. Now, after the divorce, she only has me.

"I did mom. Sorry I didn't call sooner."

She lets out a shaky breath before answering. "I'm just happy to hear your voice and that you made it okay."

A tiny pinch of pain pricks my chest.

"Is Aunt Dawn there?"

Mom can handle most things. She's always been a strong woman. She has her good days, and then there are times when she gets pulled into a darkness that makes it hard for her to do her everyday tasks, like her two jobs. With the loss of my sister a few years ago and now the void my father left behind, she's not emotionally ready to be on her own.

She insisted I go on my yearly trip to New York to visit my uncle. I told her I'd only go if she promised to have her sister stay with her while I was away. It wasn't the best situation, mom and Aunt Dawn were never on the same page, but she needed the company.

"She is." There's a brief pause. "We are going to get our nails done..." A nervous laugh escapes her lips. The sound of her voice releases the tension built up in my shoulders.

"That sounds fun. I'm sorry to cut this short, but I have a train to catch. Can I call you later when I'm settled in?"

"Of course, you can, sweetie."

Something inside me causes my throat to tighten. I cough to clear the lump before I speak. "I love you Mom. I'll talk to you later."

"I love you too, hon."

Hesitantly I hang up first. For a moment I stand in baggage claim, with my luggage at my feet unmoving. I blink a few times and try to clear my head.

As I open the pocket to slip my phone back inside it goes off again. This time it's an app notification. Instagram. Clicking on the icon I find myself smiling at the notifications I've received from my two best friends Dan and Maya. They are currently in an Instagram feud about how I'll end up spending my summer. Maya is positive that I'll be playing World of Warcraft in my boxers, while Dan claims our boating trip will finally happen.

I can't wait to see them. They were the glue holding me together even from three-thousand miles away after my father left. In retrospect it was inevitable that he would leave. In a way we relied too much on him. He kept us afloat, and, in the end, it was all too much for him.

My phone beeps again, it's my uncle saying that he's going to try and be home when I get there. He sends it along with about ten pizza emojis. Every summer I pack on the pounds in pizza and Chinese because he is the worst when it comes to making an effort to cook something edible.

As I make my way to the air train a speck of blonde catches my attention. For a moment I stare off into the distance watching her move stealthily through the crowd as if she were trying not to get caught. Curiosity gets the best of me, but I don't have time to ponder it. The clock on the wall straight ahead reads half past three. If I don't hurry, I'll have to wait at least an hour for the next train.

***

Half awake, I stumble out onto the train platform. I zonked out on the ride, and I'm thankful for the man sitting next to me who shook me awake. The door snaps shut behind me, and the train starts to leave the station. The noise is so loud, I can't hear the cab driver a few feet away calling for passengers.

After throwing my luggage into the trunk of the cab, I slide onto the leather seats. The back of my knees sticks to the edge from the humidity in the air. I give the address to the driver through the glass, he doesn't say much, doesn't even look at me, just resets the machine and pulls out of the lot. Welcome to New York.

Even so, I feel like I'm home. I don't know if it's the people I surround myself with while I'm here, or the environment. California is where all my problems are, but Long Island is nearly three thousand miles away from them, from the responsibility I feel for Mom.

Some days I even imagine what my sister would be like today. She was only four when she died and just starting to learn to communicate with us. Just as she was growing into an amazing little person. Every damn day I wish I could go back to that moment and save her, but I can't, and it kills me. And it's slowly killing Mom, too.

I glance out the window as we head south, crossing over Main Street by my favorite movie theater, The Orbit. Memories of previous summers come to mind.

The driver turns onto my uncle's street, and I've honestly never been happier to see the last house on a dead-end. On a street filled with newly renovated multiple floored homes, sits Rob's small off-white ranch that hadn't been updated since at least the nineties. The cab driver pulls up in front of the house and that's when I notice that something looks different. It's almost too clean to be my uncle's house.

I get out of the cab, thanking the driver, then remove my luggage.

Upon closer inspection, I see that even the siding of the house is spotless, like he's recently power washed it. In the many years I've come here he's never once had the urge to clean anything, let alone wash the siding on his house.

I roll my suitcase up the concrete walkway. A silver Lexus parked beside Uncle Rob's old beat-up F-150 truck catches my attention. Seeing his truck makes me feel like I'm home, but I'm questioning the second car in the driveway.

The front door swings open before I reach it and a woman who doesn't look a day over thirty stands on the stoop. It looks as if she just went on a shopping spree at that Forever 21 store in the mall. Her blonde hair is tied back tight against her head, and even from here I can see her skin has hardly any wrinkles.

"Max?" She knows my name. She notices my confusion as I step forward and gives me a friendly smile. "I'm Monica. Rob's girlfriend."