I checked the trunk again to make sure I had all their stuff and the gifts from Santa that I had carefully hidden.
My grandparents lived over an hour away in a much nicer neighborhood than the one we lived in. We didn’t visit them much. My mom didn’t like for them to help us. I’d been bringing Tristan and Ivy to their house for Christmas since I could drive, and our mom always stayed behind. I knew Ivy still remembered previous Christmas’ we’d had with our mom, and it never ended well. Tristan was lucky enough to have never experienced it.
I pulled into the driveway of the nice two-story home. I wasn’t surprised when the door opened and my grandma appeared, her arms spread wide to welcome Tristan and Ivy into her embrace. I grabbed their suitcases, watching her chat happily with them as they beamed up at her.
I didn’t have a very good relationship with my grandparents. It was nothing like what I had with my mom, but I didn’t really know them. I’d never allowed myself to. My mom had made me wary of other people, and because of it I’d shut off my emotions. If you didn’t feel, the things people did to you could never hurt you.
As my mom got worse, I had reached out to my grandparents for Ivy and Tristan’s sake. I did enjoy being here though, it was peaceful, and I didn’t have to worry about my gross step-dad or my drunk mother.
I wheeled the suitcases up the pathway, the bag with the presents slung over my shoulder. Tristan and Ivy had gone inside, but my grandma waited, holding the door open for me.
“I’m sad you won’t be staying,” she smiled kindly, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “I was looking forward to spending time with all of you.”
“I’m sorry I can’t stay.” I placed the suitcases and bag by the steps, shoving my hands in the back pockets of my jeans. The house was clean, warm, and welcoming. The scent of cinnamon hung in the air. “Are you baking something?”
She nodded. “Cookies. Would you like some?”
I started to say no, but instead I found myself nodding.
“Come on then,” she closed the door and waved for me to follow her down the hallway to the kitchen.
I ran my finger along the marble countertops, smiling at the kids as they devoured the cookies.
Being in this house, and seeing how nice my grandparents were, made me question how my mom had become such a monster.
“Here,” she held out a baggy filled with snickerdoodle cookies. I gladly accepted them as she patted my cheek. “You’ve grown into such a beautiful young woman. I wish we saw you more often. All of you,” she smiled at Tristan and Ivy. “Please, don’t let your mom keep you away from us.”
I frowned. It wasn’t my mom that kept me away, it was my fear of abandonment. Keeping at a safe distance meant you couldn’t be disappointed by someone’s actions. I’d given Trenton a chance though, so why not them?
“We’ll try to visit more often,” I smiled. “I have to go,” I looked over at Ivy and Tristan. “Give me a hug.”
They dove at me, getting cookie crumbs all over my shirt and on the floor.
“I’m so sorry,” I lowered, stretching my arm out to pick up the crumbs.
“Don’t worry about it,” my grandma reached down, grabbing my arm and helping me up. Stray pieces of gray hair fell into her face. “Can I…can I hug you goodbye?”
“Yeah, of course,” I mumbled, as I hugged the woman. Was I such a horrible person that my grandma felt like she had to ask for my permission to hug me?
“I love you, Rowan,” she smiled as she led me back to the front door.
Love. There was that word again, the word that made me cringe and feel like my insides were curling in on themselves. Love was nothing but a lie in my mind.
“Mhmm,” I mumbled. Pointing at the bag I’d dropped on the floor earlier, I said, “Their presents are in there. Be sure to hide it.”
“I will,” she assured me, standing in the doorway as I headed to my car. “Have fun!”
I waved my hand and got in my car. I sat there for a moment, staring at the house and the happy picture it made. When had I gotten so messed up? When had my childhood innocence transitioned me into this hardened shell of a person? Would I ever be able to break free of myself?
???
Back home, I still had an hour before Trent was picking me up for our evening flight. I hadn’t packed yet. I had stared at my closet, willing the clothes to magically appear in the open suitcase, but so far that wasn’t working. Everything I owned didn’t seem like it was enough, but it would have to do. I didn’t have the money to go out and buy a whole new wardrobe.
I packed what I had that I felt would be acceptable for a city like Manhattan and zipped the luggage.
“Where are you going?”
I jumped at the sound of my step-dad’s voice. I hadn’t heard him come home. I guess since he’d been gone for a few days I expected him not to come back.