Chapter 1
The house is magnificent and painted a brilliant white, a clean slate. Although there are some ladybugs clinging to the underside of the windowsills, I don’t mind. This will be a new beginning, a new Creation Story. I’m not gonna be the same person I was in Ohio. No, I am not going to starve myself any longer for faith, not going to punish myself by chopping my hair short. I will be free here to do as a please. To stretch my wings in a blue sky and not in a rusted cage. Yes, they will be different.
Dad has been living down here for almost a year, and in all that time I’ve only seen his face once. A disappointed expression when discussing my last ACT score over FaceTime. Other than that, I haven’t heard of him, but I am guessing he had better things to swallow then his guilt for neglecting his family, eight hours away. But now we will all be together again; a better family, hopefully.
The door opens, it’s him. I tug my skirt out of my crack and readjust the blouse, so it covers my cleavage. Looking at Bo, he leans forward, licks his fingers and wipes the schmutz off of his face from the chocolate bar he had in the Volvo.
“Hey! How are you all, God, I missed you.” Hugging my mom stiffly with an awkward moan.
“Good! How’s the house? Do you like it? I can’t wait to see it!” My mom shrieks. Molly scoffs in exasperation.
We follow him single file into the house, with him coming in last. Chivalry is not dead, I see.
He looks at my hair, “Did you do something different to the…back of it? “.
“Oh, she needs a trim, I liked it when your hair was short, we’ll find you a salon,” she has saved me.
“Anyways, it’ll look different when we have our paint on the walls and our couch in here, “.
“Wow! Look at this space! Kids, what do you think?” Moms' eyes sparkle like sea glass.
I open my mouth to speak, but only a mouse’s chirp leaks out.
“Kids, you can go to your room, I need to speak to your mother,” he commands. Mom looks nervous as she rings her hands.
I look to Molly to see if she wants to take Bo to her room in the basement, where they can’t hear them arguing, or making out, whichever they feel like at this hour. She slings Bo over her shoulder and clomps through the would-be dining room and down the thickly carpeted stairs. I stand there awkwardly for a moment, pasting a smile onto my pink pimply skin and take the stairs two at a time up to my room.
