I hum along to the song that’s playing on the television, the volume low on a movie that I know forward and backwards, a movie that brings me a bit of comfort when I’m settling in a new place. I’d be a liar if I said newness doesn’t sometimes make me feel homesick even though my childhood home is less than thirty minutes away. That’s why I was glad there was a streaming box hooked up to the TV. A few clicks, and I was logging into my account. Queuing up a movie that some would find oddly funny is perfect to me.
Two sisters in blue dresses and fans are on a stage, singing about their bond, two men in the background talking at a round table, and the song has me singing along with them. White Christmas, that’s my favorite movie of all time, and while it’s not the season for movies like this for some, it’s what I lean on when I need a moment to ground myself.
I stand in front of the television, getting lost in the movie, the books I was placing in a spot long forgotten. My sole focus is on the vivid colors flashing on the screen. My phone beeping, alerting me to an incoming text, is the only reason I peel myself away from the movie. It doesn’t take me long to locate it, mostly because I’m not attached to it like most people are. Half the time it’s on the kitchen counter on charge because I’ve forgotten to charge it days before, and the one time I’ll go to use it, it’ll be dead.
I pick it up from where it’s at. Incidentally enough, it’s on charge, so I unplug it, unlock it, and see I’ve got a text from my older brother. Always checking in when I’m with a new family.
Luke: What’s the consensus? Is the dad a whack job? I know where to bury a body.
Laughter bubbles up inside of me. Leave it to Luke to make his usual joke on the night I could really use something to chuckle about. My hand goes to my mouth, covering it in case I can’t hold it back. It’s not like I’m surrounded by people. That doesn’t mean your voice doesn’t carry over the water of the pool, and who knows if the walls are paper thin or not.
Me: No idea what the dad is like. Still sight unseen. The kids are adorable as ever. Thanks for letting me know your new life skills. Learn that online, did you?
Luke: I’ll never tell my secrets. Also, Mica has a flag football game next week. If you can come, you should. Bring the girls if that’s allowed. We’ll hit up the park later on.
Me: Are you sure? I seem to remember your weakness from years of living under the same roof as you. Also, tell Mica I’ll do my best and call him tomorrow. I’m going to finish getting this place set up and crash. Love you!
Luke: Whatever, little sis. Love you back.
I put my phone back on the counter and walk towards the couch, grabbing the blanket that’s placed on the back and making myself at home on the couch, ready to watch my movie. And hopefully get some sleep, sleep that’s been plagued by dreams. I’ve woken up most night, gasping for breath, hand inside my panties, replaying a night when I let loose, and now I’m left still reeling from it. Another one of those things with new places—learning the sounds and having a hard time sleeping. Tonight doesn’t seem like it’ll be that kind of night, not judging by how mellow and tired I am. A throw pillow beside me, I scooch my body down on the soft couch and cover myself with the blanket, eyes drooping, and there’s not an ounce of energy that can keep them open in order to make it to the bedroom. It looks like I’m sleeping on the couch tonight.
SIX
Forest
There’s nothing as humbling as sleeping in a deserted airport. By the time I called Madden back asking if his jet was on standby, his pilots were already dispersed elsewhere. My own fault, and if I find myself having to travel back towards Reno, I’ll be using Madden’s plane. Fuck using an airport. The flight was supposed to be first, and hour or so in the air, and that’s it. The bullshit excuses over weather, not having a pilot, and so on were endless. I should have fucking driven and probably would have if I weren’t running on fumes. Thinking about driving the seven hours home on little to not sleep didn’t seem smart on my part.
“Hello, anyone home?” That was another reason I didn’t want to drive home tired. If I didn’t make it home from falling asleep at the wheel, my girls would be fatherless, and since they’re already motherless, there was no way I’d be taking chances. I hear voices off in the distance and step into the kitchen, smelling the scents of garlic and rosemary. The girls must be really entrenched in what they’re doing since no one greeted me like they usually do. My girls usually meet me at the door, sometimes stepping outside into the garage as long as someone is standing with them. If that’s not possible, Cammy and Piper are in the kitchen, where the door leads in from the garage. Since they’re still busy doing whatever it is, I take a moment to step out of my shoes, take off my socks, and my shirt would be gone, too, if not for the fact that there’s a nanny somewhere in my house. I guess a few things will be changing around here when I’m home or working from the office in the den. My bag is already off and on the floor, laptop bag right along with it. I’m in desperate need of a shower and more than a few solid hours of sleep that won’t be happening until the sun is more than set and the girls are tucked into bed after we wind down from me being away. Which reminds me, I better grab the souvenirs I picked up while I was away. I make quick work of heading back to my laptop bag, where luckily enough, it was easy to find two shirts at the hotel gift shop. They aren’t much, but they’ll have to do. Not like the girls expect a whole lot. Anytime a family member goes away, Cammy requests something, which in turn means Piper gets something, too. It could be as simple as a postcard, a snow globe, or even a keychain. Today, it’s two black shirts, identical in color, not size, the state of Nevada outlined in bright colors, with Reno’s coordinates displayed in longitude and latitude.