Chapter 1 - Annabelle - March 4th
My apartment is just a small space, but the picture window makes it feel infinite. On a day off like this, I get to truly appreciate it. The Golden Gate Bridge, my silent neighbour, was spectacular this morning, backlit by a sunrise that looked like spilled whiskey and fire. I lay in bed for a long time, just watching the fog retreat, a quiet moment, observing the world before I had to be a part of it. The sheets felt luxurious in their simplicity, and the only sound was the far-off clang of a cable car making its first run of the day. A perfect, tranquil start to twenty-four hours of total freedom.
I finally climbed out of bed and headed to the bathroom for a shower, feeling positive about the day ahead. Steam and floral scents filled the air as I enjoyed the drops of water hitting my skin, breathing in the steam and running my fingers through my hair, before idling the shower. I wrapped a towel around my hair and brushed my teeth. Tip-toeing on the cold ground to my dresser, I picked out my favourite knitted lounge wear andmade my way to the kitchen. I filled the kettle and placed it on the stove. The kettle whistled as the radio hummed the latest tunes as I grabbed the oat milk from my refrigerator, my phone lit up with Becky’s photo and I slid along the floor in my fuzzy socks to answer. “Good morning” sounding way too eager. “Anna, calm down isn’t it only nine a.m. there?” she’s forever bringing me back to reality, but I was so excited to talk and get caught up on all the Fair Haven gossip.
Becky is my best friend, she is the loud one - the kind of girl who fills space without asking for permission. Where I retreat inward, she leans forward, arms wide, voice louder than necessary. She stayed when everyone left for university or big cities, somehow made a life in Fair Haven without apologising for it.
The hellos were quick, a formality before the real question. Mine was always, “How’s Rusty?” I couldn’t help but resent myself for always asking, but my heart beats for him, it always has, always will. After eleven years, you would think I had moved on, nope, he is everywhere while even being over a thousand miles away, and Becky knew that, so she entertains the question, every time without fail.
Becky launches into the usual updates about his ranch: the fence line that needed mending, the tractor on the fritz, something always needing a specific bolt from her hardware store. The stories were mundane on the surface, but I always listened for the one part that mattered most: the part where he asked about me. I’d catch my reflection, smiling every time. Just knowing he still thinks about me gives me flutters and humbles me so much. I don’t regret much in life, but Russell is one thing I will always regret.
“He mentioned you again today,” she says, a slight inflection in her voice that was all I got. I could tell she wanted to tell me more, but I knew better than to push. Every time I tried, she reminded me of the choices I had made and if I wanted to know more than to visit and talk to him myself, which was never going to happen. Me returning to Fair Haven was never going to happen.
The rules were clear. All she could ever say in return was that I was “good and doing well.” A carefully curated truth, built to keep a safe distance between the life I’d left behind and the one I was trying to build here, which wasn’t much of a life. Yes, I had a job, an apartment with a good view, but I didn’t share my space with another, not even a pet, and I never went out unless it was to work or grocery shopping. I didn’t have friends here because Becky and I speak every day. I didn’t feel the need to make friends.
Becky and I droned on into small talk, both reluctant to say goodbye and hang up. We missed each other;Becky hasn’t visited since New Year, so we feel the distance between us. Even though she understands the why I won’t return home, I can’t help but feel guilty.
When we eventually end the call, a knock at the door makes me jump out of my skin. I open the door to find a package on the floor, not another care package from my mum. I lift the box and shut the door with my foot before placing it on the island in the kitchen. A note from Mum and Dad is at the very top in an envelope.
Annabelle,
We are sending you all our love and wishing you the best of luck for your promotion tomorrow (hopefully this is delivered at the right time). Inside, we have carefully chosen some Fair Haven goodies: homemade sugar cookies from Mum, taffy from Frankie and Freddie’s sweet shop, and caramel shortbread from Sarah’s Café.
Everybody misses you; hope you come visit soon
love you,
Mum and Dad
They always hope I will visit, but they know I can’t. I can’t go home, where Nora’s aroma lingers in the air, her pictures glaze the wall with memories, and reliving that experience was not on my list of things to do in this lifetime. I miss her a lot; losing a sister isn’t easy, but living in her memory is even harder. All the sympathetic stares, the fake condolences— I barely survived that summer before college. Me and Russell and I couldn’t survive it either. I lost more than just a sister that summer. My life fell apart.
I was relieved to go to college, a fresh start. I was no longer the girl who lost her sister. I became a blur on campus. I studied and kept my grades up, no longer getting up to mischief. I had to grow up, make my parents proud again. I wasn’t allowed to be a fuck-up and a disappointment anymore. I became practical instead of being a dreamer. I graduated from college, moved to San Francisco, and got a shitty job at Stonewell Financial. I worked hard and made my way up to Associate Accountant. There is a meeting tomorrow to announce who will get the Assistant Manager of executive companies. I was basically already doing the job but without the title or the rise in pay. This meeting will make it all official. I sit at the kitchen island prepping for the meeting while scoffing sugar cookies, crumbing up my keyboard on my laptop.
After a morning of mixed emotions, between talking to Becky, receiving the package from home, and being reminded of all the sadness before leaving home, I decided to bake. It was always my way of releasing any pent-up emotion, a distraction if you will. It was always my favourite pastime: cupcakes, cookies, scones, whatever I could make with the ingredients available. When I was younger, Dad would take me around the neighbourhood with my little red wagon filled with baked goods that Mum and I had baked, to spread a little kindness in a world that wasn’t always nice. Now I would share them with my neighbours in the building I lived in, never acquainted, but I always left them with a little note saying “spreading some kindness, enjoy, from your anonymous neighbour.” I always hoped my neighbours enjoyed little baked goods. A harmless gesture, unless they were allergic, to which I wouldn’t know as I’ve not spoken to one since moving in here three years ago. I just smile and carry on if I am seen.
I ask Alexa to play some music and gather my ingredients out of the cupboard. I always have sugar, eggs, flour, and butter on hand; never know when I need to stress bake. The smell of freshly baked blueberry muffins fills my apartment, reminiscing on my childhood when I would bake in my mum’s kitchen with Rusty, Warren, and Nora. Flour everywhere after Warren decided to flour bomb the rest of us. I swear I can hear the laughing echoing in my ear as I turn to the oven to pull out my freshly baked goods.
After a few hours, a sense of calm and serenity fills my body, wondering what to do with the rest of my day since I have already done my usual activities. As I head towards the sofa, my phone lights up, and it’s Warren. After Nora died, we stayed in touch. Warren is Russell’s big brother and was also the love of Nora’s life. Ever since we were young, all four of us would hang out, and we all became practically family, always at each other’s houses, getting into trouble and tormenting the shopkeepers on Maine Street, but also the secrets we shared and swore to take to our graves. I can’t help but smile but also a heavy feeling in my chest thinking of these days, the happier days, the memories that would be mentioned at gatherings, causing a mix of emotions even more so when a soul is absent.
Memories that once lay dormant came floating to the surface, and as hard as I restrain my eyes from crying, within a blink, my face becomes red and flushed, eyes bloodshot, and my nose running. I am just so attractive right now, I thought to myself. Snuggled up with a blanket watching Law and Order SVU, with a big tub of Ben and Jerry’s, as the clouds roll in and the street lights flicker on, the day is almost done. For a day that was supposed to be calm and relaxing, became emotionally overpowering. I couldn’t wait to get into bed and be done with the day. Today was a lot.
