“And you seem a lot annoying, as per usual,” I said, rolling my eyes at him. I didn’t wait for him to respond, just making my way up the sandy driveway of Ox’s home. “Let’s go, Ferguson.”
He didn’t say anything, just followed me up the drive. But before we pushed into the front door we both knew would be unlocked, he tapped me on the shoulder. Turning, I was immediately met with clanging metal in front of my face.
My keys. Dammit. Had I left them in the car?
“I’m really hungry,” I said by way of explanation, throwing on as grateful of a smile as I could muster as I snatched my keys from his hand.
Clay didn’t press any further, just leaned in and opened the door wide, letting me go in front of him before following me inside. But to Ox, who had gravitated to the foyer to greet us, he mumbled under his breath, “Yo something might be wrong with your sister—”
Ignoring the fact that I was concerning even the least worryable Ferguson, I pushed straight on into the living and dining room where I found more of my family.
Ferg was in the kitchen pretending to help as Alta really did all the cooking. Lis was at the dining room table with her computer out, typing away with a tight frown on her face. Clinton Ferguson was somewhere around. I hadn’t seen him but I noticed his sleek sedan in the drive when I pulled up, and Mattí was lounging on the couch bothering Sylvie, Ox’s housekeeper, as she tried to clean up and go home. Everyone was there but the one I wanted to see the most.
I couldn’t help but feel disappointed by that. He had to know I’d be here tonight, and if he wasn’t here yet or God forbid he didn’t show. What could that mean?
To distract myself from the thick clogging feeling in the back of my throat, I thought about what it would be like to see Connor after such a long time. I’d never gone so long without seeing him and definitely not this long without speaking to him. What would he look like? Would he be bigger? Smaller? Would he have facial hair or have grown out his curls? Would he wear the same calm features I was used to or would he hold resentment toward me in that strong face? Would he still be my Connor? Or will he have changed somehow?
“Hey, Ceci,” Alta called from the kitchen almost as soon as she saw me enter. “Can you grab the rice and the salsas and take them to the table?”
“Sure,” I said. Setting my keys down on the counter, I peeked around the room and into the living room one last time, searching for that big body. He wasn’t here. Trying to keep my voice casual, I asked, “Where’s Connor, Ferg?”
“Oh, he’s coming. Just running a little behind with the jet lag,” she said, scooting around the kitchen like it was her job. “He ended up staying a few weeks longer than he was supposed to. Something to do with friends over there.”
“Huh,” is all I offered. Scooping up the appointed dishes, I walked them over to the dining room table.
Logical reasoning told me that Connor had many friends at his alma mater. He had told me himself that he was going over there to support Malcolm as he won an award of some kind. But what my illogical brain told me was that the friend he stayed for had long brown hair, deep russet skin and looked at him like he hung her own personal moon. I know I was reaching to still be jealous of Ria, I mean she was there because she was friends with Malcolm too, but I couldn’t help being a little jealous that she was there with Connor when I wasn't allowed to be.
I refused to be jealous of somebody Connor loved, though. Or at least I tried not to be, but it was so incredibly hard when she was there with him and not cast away or forgotten back thousands of miles away.Like me.
I tried to swallow the sick feelings rising up in my gut. Dread, nerves, or apprehension weren’t feelings I was accustomed to. But they had all moved into my body, taking up what felt like a permanent residence. And for whatever reason just being here was amplifying them tenfold.
Returning to the kitchen I peeked up at Ferg again. “Is he excited about his new business?”
She popped up from the oven with a steaming pan in her hands and passed it along to Alta. “He seems sort of…apprehensive about the whole thing. Maybe a little hesitant. Seems weird since it’s his own business, but we think that maybe it’s just nerves.”
“Huh,” I said again as I took another pan from Alta. I was going for casual, but my heart was hammering, blood roaring and bringing a pounding to my ears.
In the kitchen I was handed one more dish, this one shallow and full of nothing but warm tortillas. I barely saw them. My movements feeling slower and slower as my subconscious attached to the fact that each minute here was a minute closer to his return. I must not have been thinking clearly, or maybe I was just thinking of one thing because instead of asking something new, I opened my big mouth and asked, “Where did you say he was again? He is coming, right?”
The way Ferg and Alta both stopped what they were doing to look at me said it all. I was losing it. Spiraling. Hitting the bottom of the barrel. I was tired and emotionally exhausted and physically exhausted and stressed and I just missed Connor so damn much. I wasn't making sense anymore, and it was beginning to show.
Al trained a kind but focused look on me, “Why don’t you sit down after you take those over, alright? We’ve got the rest.”
I wanted to argue, but I couldn’t. Instead, I made my way over to the table, or at least I was going to until I was intercepted by Melissa who was just closing her laptop as she made her way into the kitchen. When she saw me, she paused.
“Oh good, you’re here. I need to talk to you about something,” Lis said. Shuffling things around in her arms, she slipped a bright blue folder from under her pile and handed it to me.
Taking it I peered over the folder to find the bright smiles of five to ten happy models as they walked around some college campus. I blinked. Then raising my eyes to my sister, I blinked again. “What’s this?”
“You’ll be a little late to start, but I went ahead and enrolled you to RIU to start your MBA this semester. It’s about time, don’t you think?” she said, moving past me and into the kitchen like she had said or done nothing important. “You’ll start online and then you can head to Kingston in the Spring.”
“Huh,” the sound slipped out of me, sounding stunned.
You know the moments before a complete disaster? The almost silent stillness of a storm before it all comes pouring out of the sky.
It only took a second for my ears to start ringing. This sudden and powerful wave of emotion hitting me. Blinding me. Making me see red.
I might have dropped the folder. I’m not sure because aside from the muffled, white noise that pressed against my eardrums and the inside of my head, I felt nothing.
