Page 1 of One Last Memory

BAILEE

Thesandsunkbetweenmy toes, sifting in between my feet and the nude thong sandals I had chosen to wear, causing an uncomfortable grate as I walked up to the front door of the beach rental my parents had somehow acquired last minute. The jewels that adorned the side of my shoes cost more than my monthly wages, but my mother had insisted they were perfect for the occasion.They were not.My gaze fell upon the beach rental, which was entirely too lavish and too large for a relaxing seven days, boasting of the rich and pompous life the Reynolds’ family lived.

Excluding me.

Strangely enough, I felt more at ease in my one-bedroom apartment just outside of New York City than I did wallowing in wads of cash. But who was I to deny my family a little extra comfort if it meant that I could escape on this vacation too?

My therapist, Nala, had mentioned tagging along for a family vacation was the perfect distraction from my most recent breakdown. It would give me the needed time to sift through my thoughts and analyze the failing pieces of my life before resuming my daily routines. I called bullshit, especially when it consisted of stuffing myself in a shared room with my older sister, Malia.

I had had the entire flight to struggle with the decision ofwhichsister I wanted to suffer with over the next week, until the decision was rudely made for me. As always.

Elissa, the oldest of us four, had been married for nearly ten years, sporting only one well-behaved daughter from the union. Her husband couldn’t make the trip, something about a last-minute business meeting popping up out of the blue. By the look on Elissa’s face, I called bullshit on that too. Her husband was definitely stepping out on her, but it wasn’t my place to say anything.Lips shut, girl. Nothing to see here.

Conflict was my own worst enemy, and creating it tore me apart. It was essentially the cause of my last freakout.

You need to start taking this more seriously, Lee. Your health is important.I shrugged off the doc’s voice in my head. It couldn’t be that important if my entire family thought I was a fuckup. Despite the pills and the constant monitoring, I still found it hard to be in crowds, stressful situations, and speak up about things that made me uncomfortable. I’d rather live with this discomfort than die a horrid death as I spoke up for myself.

My thoughts weren’t valuable enough to voice. And it caused me little damage to swallow them to become the easiest-going person on planet earth.You’re doing yourself a disservice.I grimaced at the voice and shifted uncomfortably as I continued dragging myself along the beach behind my other family members. The chaos erupting in front of me between unruly nephews, tired parents, and jet-lagged sisters I chose to ignore, head buried so far deep in my own thoughts as I clutched a leather-bound journal to my chest.

Not even the brisk summer wind or the sound of crashing waves could bring me back to the present.

Nala had given me the task of writing down my thoughts three years ago. I had balked at the suggestion, fighting the idea that putting pen to paper would change anything. But when she suggested that I treat it as something other than a ‘task’, my mindset changed. Instead of just a keeper of secrets, my journals became a way to escape from a past I no longer identified with. I filled them with everything and nothing, my days, my worries, my lovers or lack thereof, and then once I had written on the very last page, I buried them.

Not in like my goddamn backyard or anything. I traveled and found places to offload my emotions, titling each page ‘To Whom It Does Not Concern’, an inside joke between me and Nala. With each journal, I felt a little lighter. My current journal had seven pages left. Seven days of vacation gave me the perfect opportunity to find a resting place for it. I had my mission for this trip, and it was the only thing that mattered to me. Well, that and finding a cute island boy to pass the time.

You won’t even talk to people. No boy is going to make the effort to come talk to you, Lee.

My newest roommate for the week would be the second oldest in my family, Malia, recently divorced with twin boys under the age of seven. They were currently rolling around in the sand, yelling and shooting fake guns as they dodged imaginary bullets. One look at Malia showed me the image of a woman at the end of her rope but the small tug of a smile at the edge of her lips belied the reality.

She seemed almost happy that her boys were enjoying this moment, a weight off her own shoulders. As long as I didn’t get roped into babysitting the kids again this year, I didn’t fucking care. After all, I was the only one who’d never been in any kind of lasting relationship, a sore point for all Reynolds involved. Phoenix never came on these vacations, too wrapped up in school, internships and his career to afford time for the beach.

I knew it was just an excuse to not suffer and I wish I had my own excuse.

A heavy sigh fell from my lips as I realized that this vacation might be a little harder than the last few years. Even my brother, a year younger than me, Zak, had brought along his fiancé.

I bet them a happy five months before his fiancé got bored. This was the third fiancé this year and it was summer, but he swore up and down that he was the one. They were a bunch of giggling, groping idiots in front of me. I wanted to tell Zak that his ‘fiancés’ were only here for the money and the adventure, but that would break his heart and would make me seem like the mean sibling.

Which I wouldneverdo.Mouth shut, remember?I bit my bottom lip, tugging it farther between my teeth as I continued to wrestle with my thoughts. None of it mattered, really. Just as long as my parents chose to focus their attention anywhere but on me.

After the most recent incident had landed me in the hospital and then back on Nala’s couch at the whopping, embarrassing age of 24, my parents had honed in on my well-being. Dad had been amazingly accommodating, but mom – fuck her – it was like having a helicopter parent all over again. Even my siblings had been treading lightly around the subject, but like… in a sibling way. Which meant they kept shoving potential suitors in my face until I literally removed myself from the situation.

We have the Reynolds’ charm, baby girl. You just… need to seem a little less sad.My mother’s words hit a nerve, but I bit my tongue before I said something I would regret. We all had gorgeous, varying tones of bronze skin, thick dark hair, and piercing brown eyes that flashed purple at the right angles. Iknewwhat I looked like, but it wasn’t the sad part keeping me from potential suitors. I just… didn’t need to be let down anymore.

I think I suffered through about fifteen profiles frombothsisters before I faked a stomach ache and then dozing off when sickness didn’t deter them.

“Lee?”

My head jerked up, meeting Zak’s gaze, feet firmly planted in the sand. I glared at him as his arm curled tighter around his fiance’s waist.What is that about?“What?” I spat, tightening my hands around my journal. It was the only thing I owned that meant anything to me. Everything else could be burned or go to hell, but the pages in my arms held everything that I was. It heldme.

Zak pointed to the summer house behind us gingerly, “We’ve got a tour guide or something that’s going to give us the rundown of the place, and then we’re going to the beach. You in?” I blinked a few times, trying to understand when this development had taken place.

I wiggled my toes in the sand, letting my shoulders relax. I had probably been standing here like an idiot for more than a few minutes. It was something I did, something that messed with my entire family. I’d zone out for a while, just to come back and not realize that I had ever left. Sometimes it was a few seconds. The worst of them had been hours. I squinted at him, still trying to understand why he was literally petting his fiancé. My nose scrunched up as I asked, “With you?”Why else would he be asking?

My little brother bellowed out a laugh, “Fuck no. The whole family. Mom and Dad were going to start a fire and have the food catered there.”

Of course, they were. I could never forget how much my parents were worth or how often they flaunted their wealth, even with simple things. Everyone seemed to take the money for granted and I was the ungrateful one when I didn’t want to spend hundreds of dollars when taking a bus or walking would do the same trick.

My siblings all reacted differently to the money that came with our name and from afar, it seemed like Malia was milking it the most. Granted, I knew the least about her and even less after she divorced her husband. She wouldn’t talk about it and no amount of prying gave us a peek into her private life.

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