Balancing my phone on my shoulder, I pick up my snack and a bottle of water from the fridge. “Everything is good. Nothing to complain about. How’s life in California?”
Before she can reply, I hear crying from the other end of the line. “Shit, Peanut just fell off her bed. We got her one of those big kid’s beds last week, and it’s taking time for her to adjust. Sorry Eli, but I have to go,” Claire huffs and hangs up.
Thinking about my family, I go to my home office and open the built-in closet. It holds things I don’t often need but still want to keep. One of those things is the memory box my parents insisted on keeping when I was still a child. It’s seen better days, but the rough exterior is a part of its charm. I’m lucky it wasn’t at the Browns during the fire, or otherwise, I wouldn’t have these memories left.
Walking downstairs with the faded green box covered in duct tape, I sit down and take a deep breath before opening the lid. I peek inside and start moving knick-knacks around.
My favorite item is the photo album on the bottom, including our family photos with an engraving that reads:
The Parkers
Robert, Opal, Claire, and Elijah
Feeling emotional seeing our names together like that, I leave the album and the rest of the box on the coffee table. I open the glass door leading to my roof terrace and take in the sunshine and slight summer breeze from the river.
As I see and hear the busy city around me, I wonder how I even got here. It still doesn’t make sense, even though I wonder about my own life.
I mean, if someone had told 18-year-old Eli where he’d be in seven years, I would have laughed and asked what they were on. There was no way I would have believed them. My life seems like a story from a book, not real life.
After all, I’m that poor little boy whose junkie mother told him she was going to the shop to get milk and eggs one night. When she wasn’t back hours later, I left our tiny studio apartment in my pajamas and socks. No jacket, shoes, or anything else. The police cruiser found me next to our local mall, shivering due to the cold rainy weather.
You can only guess where my mother was. I’ll give you a hint; she wasn’t shopping for groceries. I was only three and all alone.
At least she tried. She was high, young, and stupid, in that order, after I was born. They don’t know who my biological father even is. It might have been one of her clients.
Around the same time, the Parkers were looking for a son to add to their family of three. They saw my picture and knew that I was meant to be a part of their lives. My birth mother signed away her rights, and I was adopted shortly after.
I hit the jackpot with the Parkers. My time with them was everything a kid could have dreamed of. I remember their roomy two-story house—it had a massive backyard where I threw baseballs with dad before dipping for a swim in the pool with Claire. Mom made the best blueberry pie, I can almost taste it right now. That’s how amazing it was.
Our parents loved us both until they died in a car crash when I was 14.
It was rainy all day. Our parents were on their way to see their friends out of town. The roads were slippery. What else can I say? They died on impact. That was it. The Parker family I knew no longer existed.
I was staying at the neighbor’s house that night. I woke up feeling a light touch on my shoulder. While rubbing my eyes to see better, I looked up at our neighbor’s face. I knew something had happened the moment my eyes connected with hers. They were red-rimmed. I still remember my throat thickening with emotion. I allowed tears to flow down my face freely. After a while, I just felt numb and stopped crying. It was the last time I showed emotion like that in front of someone else.
Claire was lucky to stay at her best friend’s house for the rest of high school, just like she stayed that night. I had to move to the Browns’ as it was the closest foster home in the area—no living relatives could take me, and I was back in the system. Once Claire graduated, she moved hours away for college. Now she’s happily married to Dex, a mother to my sweet niece Rosalie who we call Peanut, and helping children in the foster system just like me.
I know she didn’t want to leave me behind. It was still another sore topic for years. But we’re now past it after many long heart-to-heart conversations. I feel blessed to have her and her new family in my life. Her in-laws are great people, and I often see them around the holidays.
I decide to text my sister before returning to my book to find out who committed the murder (I think it’s the butler).
Eli:Let’s catch up more when you have time. I love and miss you all. Kiss Peanut for me. And maybe Dex. He’s okay. *laughing emoji*
Claire:Dex will get his kiss after he returns home. Don’t you worry about it.
Eli:TMI Claire!
Claire:You’re the one who mentioned kissing MY husband.
Eli:And I already regret it.
Claire:Don’t act like you’re still an innocent boy. We know that isn’t the case here, little brother.
Eli:That’s another thing that I don’t want to discuss with you. But I still love you.
Claire:Love you too, Eli. Always. *heart emoji*
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