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serenity
18 YEARS OLD
Aunt Fran has been getting tired really easily here lately. She assured me it’s only because she’s not as young and fit as she used to be but still thinks she is. We’re sitting on the porch, enjoying the fresh air while nibbling on chips. Fran passes the open bag to me, offering me some. As I take a few, she smiles and says, “My mind hasn’t gotten the memo from my body that we’re no longer twenty. I did pretty good keeping up for a while, though, huh?”
“It was impressive. Are you sure you don’t want me to hang out here?” We each pop a chip into our mouths.
Between bites, she tells me, “No. You’ve made friends, go out! You’re still young and healthy. Don’t waste a single minute of it.”
Taking her advice, I decide to go to the King house. I’ve never been boy crazy. I’ve had boyfriends and experienced plenty of make-out sessions with guys that weren’t my boyfriend. But I’ve never met someone who got me really hot and bothered, as Mama put it, until I came to Sunshine Coast. The King brothers would make a nun think about dancing with the devil for a night. Adam is beyond charismatic and so handsome that he doesn’t seem real most of the time. I’m completely giddy that I have his attention. But Ashley is nothing more than a silly fantasy, since he’s twenty-six. I’m ninety percent certain he thinks I’m a simpleton and incapable of understanding more than two words: yes and no.
Is Adam home? Yes. Or he’ll tell me no and walk away.
How are you, Ashley? Nod and walk away.
Are you going to work? Yes and walkaway.
He’s always walking away from me. The guy can’t stand to be around me. Where did the friendly handsome stranger from the bakery go? Does he think it was my fault that I fell into the lake? Have I become some fragile creature because he saved me? I don’t understand him, yet I’m fascinated by him.
He’s leaving their house now, and I make a point to smile widely at him with what I hope comes off as a friendly wave, but I’m sure it’s more an awkward one.
“Hi, Ash!”
It’s the first time I’ve called him Ash. I hear Zuri and Adam do it all the time. He stops and stares at me. His expression is unreadable, and I’m left standing, unsure what he’s thinking, because he simply walks past me and out the door.
Zuri, their younger sister, offers me a small smile. “Don’t take it personally. Ash is under a lot of stress. He works really hard to take care of everyone.”
“He does work really hard, doesn’t he?” I go and sit next to her at the kitchen table. She’s working on a beautiful colored pencil drawing of a horse. There’s snoring from a bedroom down the hall, their parents passed out from an all-nighter.
Her little hand doesn’t even pause as she focuses on her masterpiece while she continues to talk to me. “You picked the wrong brother. Sure, Adam is fun, but so are little kids. In fact, Ash says I’m more mature and I’m eleven.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Adam is a lot of fun. And he’s closer to my age.”
“George Strait is older than me, but I’m not going to let that come between us.”
“George Strait, the country singer?”
“King of country music. And I won’t let our age difference be a factor.”
“Valid point.” I struggle not to laugh. Ashley does have his hands full with this one, I imagine. I watch her talented little hands move over the paper. “You’re so talented. Have you taken any art classes?”
“Ash can only afford one thing. I picked riding lessons because I have art supplies, and I think I do all right. But I don’t have a horse. Ash told me that was a good choice. Better to break a pencil trying to teach myself to draw rather than break my neck teaching myself to ride. Plus, Ash said there isn’t a right or wrong way to express yourself in art.” She places her brown pencil down and picks up a black one. “He said next year he should be making enough for me to do both. I told him I’d help, but he won’t let me. Did the same thing to Adam, and look how that turned out.”
“How what turned out?” Adam comes strolling in with damp hair, dressed in a tight-fitting black top and snug denim jeans. He looks unbelievably gorgeous.
“You,” Zuri deadpans.
Adam frowns and then throws me a mocking smile. “Don’t listen to her. She carries a torch for our brother.” I’m feeling uncomfortable from the tension building within the room. He walks over to the refrigerator to retrieve a soda. Popping the cap, he says, “Nobody can measure up to him. Just ask her or anybody in town.” His tone is joking, but I see the hurt in his eyes.
I pat Zuri’s arm, trying to offer some reassurance. For what, I’m not sure. They’re all in a horrible situation that none of them wanted to be in. When Adam narrows his eyes to my hand on his sister’s arm, I rush over to wrap him in a hug.
“Let’s go. I’ve missed you,” I whisper. He smiles down at me, and I melt further into his arms. I never had siblings, but it’s clear Adam is feeling pressure. I’ve heard stories about middle children. Always feeling left out. Being compared to the other two. Ashley is the oldest, and Zuri is not only the baby but also the only girl. Maybe Adam doesn’t have his life figured out yet, but he’s still young. It’s not his fault his parents aren’t providing for them.
I guide him out of the house, determined to make today, and every day this summer with him, feel like he’s the most important person. We’re going to have a carefree summer, getting lost in kisses and sunshine. A little voice in the back of my head is screaming, “Idiot,” but I ignore it. I ignore the red flags and the turning in my stomach of my gut instinct telling me to run in the other direction.
I ignore it all and choose to bask in the idea that I’m doing something good for someone else. I’ll focus on his handsome face, his wit and charm, and the idea of him needing me. A therapist could probably analyze why, though one could argue it’s me being eighteen. Am I persuaded by a gorgeous face and my hormones? Or maybe I simply want to try and see the good and live by what Fran has been telling me since I got here. “Push the limits and live for the minutes.”
* * *
