I should have posted this yesterday, I'm sorry. But if I finish writing another chapter before the end of the day, the script that tells me who to dedicate each one to might have got confused. So here it is, twenty minutes after midnight. A chapter dedicated to: Santoro. With thanks again for liking my work enough to support a struggling writer on Patreon.
"Did I hear my little angel screaming?" Dad's voice echoed up the stairs, and a few seconds later he walked into the room and immediately stopped, apparently just as surprised as Tess had been by the abundance of pink in her new room. "Wow. I never expected... Look, Gabby? I guess Tess already told you she won't be happy with–"
"She mentioned it, Mr Naylor. John."
"Yeah, sorry we sprung this on you at the last minute. Your dad didn't even let us know you'd moved here, it was only Trish's sister Mary... Anyway, I think she'll need to have the decorators in, if that's okay with you. We're happy to hire someone, so it's no burden–"
"Don't worry, John. I already said I'll get my friend Malcolm to handle it. It'll be hard enough to get someone round here anyway, the plaster is some weird supposedly-next-generation crap that goes funny colours if you put the wrong kind of paint on it, so you need a guy who has relevant experience, and they're booked up months away. That's why I've always helped Malcolm out with his problems, he said he can come round in a week or two and help Tess pick a style."
"That's great, and if you need us to... Wait, you already called him?"
"My cousin's coming to stay, John. The last time we met, she might have been into this. But I had no illusions she'd be impressed this time, so I called him as soon as you asked."
"Thanks. And sorry for underestimating you. You're more organised than your dad, that's for sure."
"What, the guy who left me to sort out my own truck rental when I started at university? I'm shocked. But yeah, I'm glad to have her. It'll be practice for having a kid of our own, I guess. I mean, some hypothetical time in the future, if we consider starting a family, it would be good to know I'm capable of wrangling a recalcitrant teen."
"I'm not..." Tess started, her head still turning back and forth between Gabby and her dad. "Heck, I don't even know what that means. But I guess it's not too rude if you said it in front of Dad, so I'll forgive you."
"I'm sure you two will get on like a house on fire," Mr Naylor said with a forced laugh. "Screams, people running for shelter... No, I'm sure you'll be great. But if there's any problems, anything at all, feel free to call me. I feel bad leaving Tess here, but I know she's in good hands. Thank you."
All that remained was small talk, and then they were gone. Tess was alone in her new home, trying to find space in all the drawers for her stuff. She heard her parents stomping up the stairs a few times, but after she'd pushed the door closed they seemed to realise she would rather deal with unpacking by herself. When she checked, she found two more suitcases outside her door, along with a little framed tapestry bearing the legend 'Home Sweet Home', and a substantial amount of cash that she guessed would be a housewarming gift from her mum.
She heard the door close and the car drive away, as well. But she didn't feel like she needed to say goodbye again. This would be the first day of a new life, and she knew that her parents would never be more than a phone call away if she needed them.
Now, she was independent.
* * *
There was no space in Tess's new room to unpack all her stuff. She lifted down some of the boxes of toys, trying to rearrange them, and she was surprised by just how much variety was there. She didn't really know what little kids were into at the moment, but she recognised a few things that she might have seen advertised, and things she wouldn't admit to remembering from a few years back. She found herself wondering how old the kid was now.
A child had grown up in this room, and it looked like she'd had everything she could ever have wanted. At least as far as toys went. But it was weird; there was stuff in here for little kids, and educational toys she might have been interested in four or five years ago. And there was still a changing table in the corner – surely only babies needed one of those? She supposed that all the cupboards on the sides could be used for storing more of her stuff, but she couldn't imagine why something that took up so much floor space could have stood here for so long without being moved to the garage or attic. Or sold, if the parents were anything like hers.
After thinking about that, she turned back to the toy boxes, and turned over things in her hands. She reached in and pushed the mismatched plastic shapes aside, stirring the contents of the crate to bring new things into view. And now she was looking, she wasn't surprised to see something familiar.
Toys she'd actually owned; things that she'd been so upset about when her parents threw them out before the move to Hong Kong. She couldn't see the appeal of an almost-spherical dog plush now, but it had seemed like such a big deal at the time. Whoever had lived in this room had got the most desirable toys every season, and then rather than having to pick their favourites to pack a single suitcase for each year's move, had allowed them to accumulate in these crates of memories. And perhaps more importantly, they'd been about the same age as her. It was a strange feeling; the girl these had belonged to was probably out there now, hanging out at the mall with her friends and enjoying all the same trials and tribulations that Tess had to deal with as she went through high school.
And then another thought occurred. She turned out one of the boxes onto the ground, and looked at the scatter of memories. There were things she remembered from when she was younger. Toys she had seen advertised years ago, and felt that kids of that era weren't having the same cool stuff as her generation. And then there were dolls that she was sure were relatively new; movie tie ins that were only a couple of years old. All these memories... but the dates didn't add up. There were toys for younger kids that were clearly aimed at babies, and older things that were made for an older child. That was when she understood; this wasn't just a girl's room, obsessed with the idea of being daddy's little princess. This was a room where a girl like her had grown up, only to be joined by a little sister. Maybe two, if she could make any kind of guess from the ages of the different memories collected here.
Tess had to sit down on the bed then, and try to imagine what life would have been like with a sibling. A little sister to protect; it would surely have been different. And perhaps that was why all these boxes had been left behind. The girl who lived here had to move to a new house, because she had two or three little sisters now, and the house wasn't big enough once they started growing up.