Time is ticking, but I still sit comfortably, lounging at the recycled plastic chairs while I listen to Brittney talk. The kids are running in the back, playing in the swing set, and moving like they have all the energy in the world.
Which I think they do. I love watching them like this, so happy, so free. Without anything to worry about. I just love watching them, looking after them, being here with them and slowly, a small smile made its way to my face at how adorable they are.
“Anyway, shouldn’t you be on your way?” Brittney says after a while, cutting off her own story as she runs a hand through her heavily pregnant belly—the fourth on its way. A small part of me is rather envious while another part of me is happy for her. Really, it’s been a rather confusing few years lately as I’ve been growing frustrated of finding someone I wanted to settle down with.
“It’s not a big deal, I don’t mind being a little bit late,” I reply, rushing to her side to help her up as I see her struggling. I can tell her back is killing her by the way she’s hunched over, holding onto her back as if it’s moments from collapsing.
“Thanks Alastair,” Brittney says, smiling fondly as she takes in my suit, which is to be my costume for the party. “But you know, being late to a party you’re organizing is kind of a big deal. Plus, I still don’t really get that costume, but I don’t want to discuss that any further,” she adds with a laugh. “I would have picked something completely different for it, but you’ll find out in time.”
I look down at my white shirt, unsure of what she’s going on about, but then I shrug, letting it slide.
“I’m not organizing it,” I say for the fifth time today, even if I kind of am. “I’m more like a sponsor.”
Brittney rolls her eyes and turns to the kids, yelling for them to be on their way.
“Come on, let’s go! Don’t make me go and get you,” she teases, but the kids know well by now that their mother can’t run in the state that she’s at. It’s not easy, but between the two of us, we manage to get them all into the car.
Clara is only two years old and a home-wrecker already, so much energy she could destroy the world with her bare hands if she wanted to. Sean is four, a bit more chill but still lots of trouble, and Paul, who’s seven, is the one that often helps us get the other two under control, taking over the role of big brother—even more so now that he knows he’s got another little sister on the way.
“Don’t miss me much, I’ll see you all soon,” I say as I help them strap the seatbelts and give them each a huge hug and kiss to the forehead. “Behave, and don’t make things harder for mama… remember, you need to help her while she’s carrying your little sister, okay?”
The kids nod and smile, then all start talking at the same time, saying that they don’t want to leave yet, asking when they’re going to be back, begging for snacks, and so much more. Truly, I don’t understand how my sister does it.
“Soon, okay?” Brittney yells to the kids. Then she turns to me, rolling down the window and leaning out. “Until next time.”
“See you at some point during the week, okay? I’ll call you,” I say before planting a kiss on her forehead too. I really didn’t like seeing her drive and yet, her husband works all the odd hours to support their happy and large family. “Drive safely.”
I stand there and I watch them drive away on the long driveway, same as I do every time. It pains me, every single time. It’s not easy to see them go, to watch as their little hands wave at me through the back window. Once the car is no longer in sight, I turn to the swing set, the hammock still moving as if the ghosts of the kids were still lurking around. I sigh, because there’s nothing I can do about it. Because I have to know how to let them go. And I know I will see them again soon.
My phone rings in my pocket, and I reject the call when I see it’s Calvin calling. I’ll be there soon, so whatever issue he’s having with the party, he can wait a minute until I make it there. I know I should've picked up, networking is key to wealth, which is one of the main reasons why I insisted on helping with this party. I believe firmly in helping Wyoming grow, and there's nothing I love more than watching entrepreneurs make all their dreams come true.
After all, I made mine come true—most of them.
I turn to the house, a lovely mansion tucked among the mountains, the perfect place for peace and quiet. But now, with the kids gone, it feels a bit empty. Well, a bit is an understatement. It feels so empty. Running my hands over my arms to chase away the chills that suddenly took me over, I walk towards the side entrance, sliding the double glass doors open and going in through the deck.
After a quick run to the bathroom and a little bit of cologne, I’m good to go. It’s time to meet some people, to try and make some more connections to keep growing so I never become stagnant. So maybe—hopefully, but probably not—I finally find someone worth spending the rest of my life with.
Grabbing my wallet and keys from the entrance, I lock, set up the alarm, and jump in the car.
Sabrina
Idig through my closet, already cursing Diana for convincing me to go.
What if I don’t? Will she come all the way here to tell me off for it?
I laugh at the notion, as there’s a part of me that thinks she might. She’d come and tell me that if I don’t let the magic work, she’ll work the magic for me. Just as I’m thinking about it, I spot a dress I haven’t worn in a long time, and I get an idea.
It’s a sleeveless gown in a purple magenta tone that isn’t something I’d normally go for, but it’ll work perfect for my idea: a witchy costume. I find some appropriate underwear that won’t show through the dress, one of the newest lace ones I’ve bought, actually—another advice from Diana, trying to love myself and attract what I want into my life—and then I go to my vanity.
A bit of makeup, dark red lipstick, and then to get as many necklaces and bangles as I still have lying around from the nineties. I end up with five bangles on each arm, a long necklace with a rose quartz I got as a present years ago and I’ve barely used since, and a choker that I have no idea where I got from. On days like today, I’m glad about the hoarder part of me that never knows how to let go of these little trinkets.
Finally happy with the result, I check myself in the mirror once more and find a purse that won’t clash too much with the outfit. I guess this is it, there’s no turning back now. After grabbing a cardigan, I head to the door, grab the keys, but then I change my mind.
I don’t know the place, I don’t know if I’ll feel awkward enough to want to drink, or if there will be any space to park. So, instead, I grab my phone and call my brother, asking him for a ride—which I know he won’t mind, he owes me plenty for the whole month his truck was at the mechanic and I drove my niece everywhere.
Once I get there, some of my nervousness finally ebbs away—there’s one thing I need to give these people, they know how to throw a party. At the entrance, a huge skeleton meets me, its head so far up that it almost reaches the roof of the two-story building where the party is taking place.
I see a parking lot to the side, almost full of cars, but I don’t regret not bringing mine, Alex knows to be on call if I need him to come back and pick me up early—after all, he’s a night owl, and he’s always a good excuse to use when I want to leave somewhere earlier than intended. I know I can flick him a message, and he’ll call me, letting me know my niece is at the hospital or that there’s a T-rex on the roof.