Page 32 of Say Something
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A few days later, the house was finished and the movers delivered the contents of my small storage unit from the city. The entire process took about thirty minutes before I was sitting alone on my finished hardwood floors with a bottle of champagne and a package of cheap plastic flutes I’d bought specifically to celebrate this moment.
This anti-climactic moment.
Alone.
Moving my entire life should have been a bigger experience, no? The boxes the movers dropped off barely filled my small living room. The items I could unpack would take me a handful of minutes, but most of it had to wait since I didn’t have any furniture yet. No tables for my knick-knacks or shelves for my books. Not yet.
Except that table.
I stood from my lonely place on the floor and walked over to the handmade table, carefully unwrapping the bubble wrap. The table’s smooth surface was heart-shaped and it stood about waist high. The light stained wood matched the floors in the living room almost perfectly, and I wondered if somewhere in my subconscious I’d known it would.
I placed the small table beside the front door, so it would be the first thing I saw when I walked into the house, the last thing I saw when I left. In one of those boxes I had a pottery bowl Emma had made. I received it in the mail with the rest of my Christmas presents last year. I cherished that bowl, that little handmade piece of imperfect perfection. I’d place that on the table, use it to hold my keys or something.
Leaving the champagne and plastic cups on the floor, I lifted one of the boxes labeled “KITCHEN” and set it on the formica countertop. Once the guys were done with the work, I gave the entire house a good scrubbing, so the cabinets and drawers were eagerly awaiting their new occupants. I ripped open the tape and began the mindless task of unpacking utensils, dishes, and cups.
The kitchen was nearly unpacked when there was a knock at the front door. Part of me hoped it was Danny. I hadn’t seen him around town the last few days, and we didn’t exchange numbers so I couldn’t get in touch with him if I wanted to.Did I want to?I wasn’t sure, but the way my body came alive at the thought of him at the door told me more than my mind did.
I finger combed my hair as I hurried to the front door, kicking a few empty boxes out of the way. The sky was turning a beautiful shade of purple as the sun had begun to set in the distance.
I pushed open the front door, seeing several shadows through the opaque glass.
“Surprise!”
My mouth gaped open. My family—my entire family, sans the kids—was standing on my tiny front porch. My mom and Karla held gift bags, Melissa, Bryan, and my dad held casserole dishes of some kind. Michael held a plastic grocery bag.
“What’s all this?”
“It’s your housewarming-slash-unpacking party,” my mother answered, as though it was obvious why they were all standing on my porch on a Friday night. “I figured you haven’t fed yourself all day, so we brought over some food. And able bodies to help you unload.”
“You gonna let us in or what?” Melissa asked.
I stepped aside. “Of course, come in. I’m sorry,” I said, shaking my head. Shaking myself out of my little funk.
Karla silently picked up my party for one off of the floor and brought the bottle and cups to the kitchen. She unsleeved the plastic flutes while Bryan uncorked the bottle, and they poured the now room temperature champagne together. I didn’t like champagne anyway, it just seemed like a necessary step. They passed out the cups.
“To Jessica,” my dad began, holding up his glass for a toast. “We’re so happy to have you home, to have our family together again. Your mom and I are so proud of what you’ve accomplished here, and we know you’re going to take Oak River by storm.”
I smiled, knowing it wasn’t really possible for an attorney—or anyone, really—to take Oak River by storm, but appreciating the sentiment all the same. “Thank you, Daddy.”
“Welcome back, sis,” Michael added. The rest of the group echoed Michael’s words, and we clinked glasses.
“Thank you all, so much. Your help over the past few days has been wonderful. I’m not so sure I deserve everything you’ve all done for me as of late, but I sure do appreciate it. I love you all. Thank you.” I raised my glass to them, and we clinked again. Hugs followed, then everyone took a box.
As I laughed with my siblings, ate my mother’s delicious food, and gave unpacking directions, I let my mind wander back to my first meal in my new house. My first toast.
Danny.
I hadn’t thought about it at the time, that they were my firsts of those particular moments in the house. But it seems appropriate that those times were with him. In fact, the only shadow on this otherwise perfect turn of events was that Danny wasn’t here with my family.
He should have been.
Our toes touched, played with one another. I giggled, always ticklish on my toes.
We laid naked, wrapped in a blanket on the living room floor, having just christened our new home.
Our home.
