Pieces of Hope (22 page)

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Authors: Carolyn Carter

BOOK: Pieces of Hope
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She
pulled back the screen door. A paper turkey cut-out lurched into view, and I
turned the handle of the front door. We never locked it. Mac was still one of
those places where people trusted their neighbors. We walked into the narrow
entryway. My sister’s room was behind the long wall on the left; mine was on
the right. The small but tidy living room and kitchen stretched out in their
entirety in front of us, and my eyes squinted against the brightness.

Just
after we’d moved in, Claire repainted the house in what I often referred to as
blind people’s colors. Those obnoxious shades only the non-seeing could ever
appreciate. Our living room was lime green, the sunny kitchen blueberry.
Claire’s room got a blast of fuchsia. Mine, blinding yellow. On sunny Sunday
mornings, I used to lie awake in bed—sunglasses on—and plan my entire day.
Living inside a carnival was not something I had ever understood. Until today.
My sister was, undeniably, an artistic genius.

We
passed my door, made a left, and peeked inside my sister’s room. Claire and her
best friend, Sophie Langley were sprawled across the room’s white shaggy rug,
intently occupied, with a ragged Monopoly board between them. Playing Monopoly
was something my sister and I used to love to do before we grew up, grew apart,
and grew bored with board games. Dressed in tees and boxers with their year of
graduation printed on their butts, I recognized them as the same boxers they’d
flashed beneath their ball gowns at senior prom. Singlehandedly, they’d started
a fashion trend at McMinnville High.

Neither
Claire nor Sophie noticed us until Charlotte
quietly cleared her throat.

To my
surprise, Claire stomped in the middle of the game, smattering houses and fake
money, and lunged for me. She squeezed me so hard that, had I been in my body,
I might possibly have died.

Typical
of normal dreams, Claire didn’t ask any questions about how I got here. Nor did
she seem to remember that I was still in a coma. After a brief introduction,
the five of us sat down and played Monopoly as if we were long-time, very-old
friends—and as if Claire had been expecting us. (Maybe she had.) And despite hating
to lose at anything, Claire wore a stupid grin on her face during the entire
game, happily aiming it at me.

Not so
much with Sophie Langley. Even though she was winning—as usual. That girl had
kicked our butts ever since I was seven and Claire was nine, and today she
would no doubt add
Rin
and Charlotte to her list of
victims. When it came to Monopoly, Sophie didn’t just beat you. She slaughtered
you.
    

I worked
to keep the conversation light, avoiding the heavy topics to keep Claire’s
memory from triggering. Once, right after Mom’s accident, I realized mid-dream
that she was dead, and in the midst of being deliriously happy, the agonizing
truth came crashing down around me. I awoke crying. The last thing I wanted was
that same thing to happen to Claire. I knew how terrible she felt about my
accident, how much she blamed herself, how much she wanted me back.

Instead,
I focused on the one topic any girl could spend a lifetime discussing and never
resolve all its intricate mysteries—our love lives.

“So,
Claire, how are things going with Brody?” I rolled the dice, and as I counted
ahead, I groaned loudly. For the third time in a row, I landed on one of Sophie
Langley’s properties—Boardwalk, this time. I moved my iron four spaces—I wanted
the horse and rider, but Charlotte
claimed it first—and dished out my last six hundred dollars to the evil
Monopoly Queen.

“Pretty
good.” Claire cast a dreamy look my way. “Actually, pretty great.”

“You
sound surprised.” I smiled as
Rin
took a turn,
thankfully landing on one of her own properties. “I’ve always known there was a
great guy in there somewhere, under all that goofiness, I mean.”

“Yeah, I
guess I am surprised . . . mostly that I love, I mean,
like
that side of him, too.” Claire avoided Sophie’s stare-down,
but it was evident that she’d changed her tune because of Sophie’s disapproval.
“It’s hard to believe he used to drive me nuts, and now I think he’s kind of
cute . . . sexy, even,” she added in a whisper.

Sophie
stopped counting her money long enough to roll her eyes.

“Claire,
he’s two years younger than you!” Her tone implied that this was a great deal
worse than dating a serial killer. “Besides, when it comes to something
lasting, I see you with a guy with a lot more class.” She emphasized the last
word in a nasty tone. As her words struck the heart of my fair-haired sister,
Claire’s smile faded.

I sent
Sophie my best serial killer stare.
 

It was
because of Sophie Langley that I’d first discovered life wasn’t fair. As one of
those girls who got stared at by everyone—old people, young people, babies in
cribs, you name it—she had no idea what it was like for the rest of us. With
upturned blue eyes that had the capacity to appear evil and sexy (often at the
same time), long, pale hair that looked silky-fake (but wasn’t), and the
nickname—The
Bod
—she pretty much had it made, and she
very much knew it.

I used
to wonder why she and Claire were friends. My sister was no saint, but she
didn’t pretend that she was better than all of humankind like Sophie did, nor
did she rub it in people’s faces whenever she got the chance. Yet today, thanks
to my new set of eyes, I could see that life was fairer than I’d ever known. It
had taken a while to see it, but in the outline of Sophie’s svelte body, there
was definitely a dirty gray blur—as if someone had taken a giant pencil and
smudged up her edges. And that’s why, despite myself—but justified by the many years
of abuse she had unfailingly doled out to Brody and me, and countless other
innocents—I smiled so big my face started to hurt.

Sophie
glared back at me.

“I
disagree,” I said sweetly to Sophie, watching the smudges darken. “I’ve always
imagined my sister with a real gentleman, a guy with a heart of gold, and one
whose arms are strong enough to pick her up and carry her down a mountaintop .
. . if she so desired.” I wasn’t used to talking this way, but the occasion
seemed to call for laying it on thick.

“You’re
becoming quite the romantic,” Claire said proudly. “I like it!” She would say
that, of course. Every bone in Claire’s body screamed romantic. I used to pride
myself on the fact that those genes had skipped right past me. Or so I’d once
thought.

I tossed
my head. “It’s probably the company I’ve been keeping.” Claire looked over at
Rin
and Charlotte, but they both knew I was talking about
Ethan. Charlotte
giggled.

It was
Claire’s turn to roll.
Twelve.
I
counted ahead and groaned for her.

“That
will be four hundred dollars,” Sophie said smugly, holding out her hand.

Charlotte was the next
roller. She passed Boardwalk with her man on a horse, but landed on a cheesy
little property of mine. I didn’t have enough money to put hotels on it, just a
couple of houses, so the rent was low. I did picture a five-story building on
it—one that required a bit of refurbishing—and out of the edge of my eye, I
watched Charlotte
and
Rin
grin in unison.

It was
then that I heard him. His melodious voice was unmistakable. If it took me a
hundred years to hear it again, I would never forget the way it resonated in my
soul. He was calling my name, requesting my presence.

Charlotte pulled my hand
from my lips, and said politely, “I’m sorry, but we have to go. It’s been so
great meeting both of you . . . and Monopoly was a blast. It’s been ages since
we last played.”

“Eighteen
years, to be exact,”
Rin
added, and Charlotte elbowed her hard. “
Ow
!” she mumbled
under her breath. “I mean, I guess it
feels
like it’s been that long.”

Claire
melted a little, not hiding her disappointment.

“So
soon? But you . . . you only just got here, and for some reason, I already miss
you terribly.” She screwed up her flawless face. It wasn’t a good look. “Does
it seem like a weird thing to say? It’s like you’ve been gone a very long
time.”

I was
scared that she might start remembering—Mom’s recent death, the hospital, my
coma—and our visit would end on a terrible note. I felt very torn; Ethan
continued to call to me, pleading for my arrival, and my sister was nearly
begging me to stay.

“She has
a date,”
Rin
said abruptly. “A date with Ethan Reid .
. .” And this time, it was my turn to give
Rin
a shot
to the ribs. Did she have to remind Claire of the hospital? Was she trying to
make her remember?

But to
my amazement, Claire looked impressed. On the other hand, maybe it was something
closer to shock. “Ethan Reid? You mean the guy from the hospital?”

I
sounded as surprised as she looked. Her memory was spotty; she only seemed to
remember him, and not my condition. “Yeah, that’s him . . .” I mumbled in
half-apology. “Truthfully, I can’t believe it, either.”

“No,
it’s not like that,” Claire insisted, and for once, she seemed to be at a loss
for words. Usually, the girl could talk forever. “It’s just that he . . . he .
. .”

“He
smolders.” Sophie barely glanced up from the stack of fake hundreds she was
counting, but there was a hint of something in her voice I didn’t quite
recognize.
    

“Yeah,
that’s it exactly. He smolders.” Claire wasn’t in shock; she was awed. This was
definitely a first. “Well, good for you, Hope. I think Ethan’s a lucky guy.
Make sure he treats you like a princess or he’ll have to answer to me.” I
looked at her scrawny arms, her hundred and eighteen pound stick frame, and my
eyebrows reflexively shot up.

“I’ll
bet he’s already shaking in his shoes,” I said, straight-faced.

She flexed
her non-existent biceps in a show of force.

“He’s so
serious. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile,” Sophie said evenly, and I
interpreted this to mean he hadn’t given her a second glance. She discounted
the people who ignored her as grossly flawed. “If you want my opinion, the guy
seems like a player. I’m sure he’ll be on his way once he . . . gets what he
wants.”
 

Now I
knew what I’d heard earlier—envy. I flashed another huge grin her way.

“You’d
be surprised,” Charlotte
said softly, batting her eyes in a way that seemed sweetly naïve. “A friend of
a friend says he’s a really great guy.”

“Yes, we
have it on the highest authority,”
Rin
said, glancing
heavenward. “He’s been searching for a girl like Hope for what for seems like two
lifetimes . . .”

“Soul
mates,” Charlotte
twittered, and Sophie Langley’s mouth dropped open. The thought of a random fly
flying into it was temptingly appealing. But I was nice and tried not to
imagine it.

We all
stood then—Sophie excusing herself to the kitchen for a bottle of water in a
transparent attempt to avoid unpleasant goodbye hugs and flaws in her logic. Charlotte finagled a
brief squeeze before she skittered past, but
Rin
wanted nothing to do with her. Claire embraced me a long time, refusing to
release me until I promised to return and tell her everything about my date.

“Soon!”
she insisted as I tugged away my hand. “Make it soon, Hope!”

“Every
detail,” I promised her. “Count on it.”

As much
as I loved my sister and this newfound closeness of ours—something I thought
we’d lost forever—Ethan was still beckoning me, and I couldn’t wait to see him.
I ran down the short hallway, out the front door, leapt across the three steps
at the edge of the porch, and sprinted over the purple picket fence.

Charlotte
and
Rin
were several steps behind. I was nearly
jumping out of my skin with impatience when
Rin
finally pulled back a corner of the
Boller’s
yard,
granting me a glimpse of my shortcut. Part of my exuberance had to do with the
surprise of it all. Where was he taking me? What had he planned? Given that
anything could happen, anything he could imagine, anyway—my heart almost
couldn’t take the waiting!

Beyond
the opening, there was a narrow winding road. A light breeze blew across my
face, gently ruffling my hair. It was chilly, but the vast meadows on either
side of the road were generously green. Early spring, maybe? Something about
the setting leant itself a foreign air. It looked whimsically charming.

“You
should change first,” Charlotte
suggested, eyeing me up and down. “You’re not really dressed for the weather.”
The breeze picked up as it shot through the draped opening. I suppressed a
shiver, but more than the chilly air had caused it, I knew. My nerves were
getting the better of me.

“I’m
terrible at this sort of thing. Help me,” I pleaded. My hands hung limp at my
sides. It wasn’t much of a stretch to look pathetic.

Rin
laughed. “For such a strong person, you sure can be a
wimp sometimes.”

“It’s .
. . boys,” I said, making a face. “They seem like extraterrestrials to me.”

“Well,
if Ethan’s from another planet, I want to go there!” Charlotte gave a girlish giggle. As she
scrutinized me, I felt my clothing shift as if I were being dressed in layers.
Something soft touched my skin (cashmere, maybe?); my pants felt looser and my
shoes felt tighter. Instantly, I warmed up from top to bottom.

“There.
That should do it. You look amazing, but not like you tried too hard. With
boys, that’s important.” Charlotte
sounded pleased. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand as though it
had taken tremendous effort.

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