Page 37 of Never With You
I purse my lips, sending him a warning look to move on to another subject.
“Do you know all our names start with C?” she tells him.
“You don’t say?”
“Caroline, you don’t have to talk,” I say over my shoulder. “You can just rest.”
“Oh, but first, we need to hear all ten of those C names.” Nate gives me a sideways smirk.
Before I can stop her, she starts rattling off the names with pride. “Carly, Claire, Conner, Christie, Callie, Chloe, Cade, Cooper, Carter, and Caroline.”
“Wow, that’s a lot!” He grins back at her. “I bet you love having a big family. Is Carly a good big sister?”
My stomach tenses, not wanting to hear her answer.
Caroline shrugs as she looks out the window. “She never comes home.”
I feel Nate’s eyes on me, but I grab my phone to avoid his gaze. “I better text my mom and tell her we picked her up from school already.”
“Do you know the best part of missing school because you’re sick?” Nate asks but doesn’t wait for her answer. “Watching all the TV shows that are on in the afternoon.”
“My mom just texted and said she’ll be home in a half hour,” I report before turning back to my sister. “So you won’t be home alone for very long.”
“We can stay until your mom gets home.”
“No!” I say in a panic. “We need to get back to the office. Plus, Caroline is old enough to stay by herself.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yep.” I point down the street. “That’s our house up on the left.”
“Very homey.”
You think that until you go inside.
“Okay, Caroline, tell Nate thank you for the ride,” I say as he pulls into the driveway.
“Thank you.”
“Do you need some help getting her inside?” He moves to unclick his seatbelt.
“Nope!” I hold up my hand as I wait for Caroline to climb out. “We’re good. Just wait in the car. I’ll be out in a minute.”
I punch in the garage code and turn to my sister as we wait for the door to lift. “I’ll get you some medicine, and you can lie down on the couch until Mom gets home.”
“Okay.”
When the garage door fully lifts, I wince at what Nate can see from the front seat of his truck. The entire space is filled with boxes and crap my parents think are treasures. Forget about parking a car in there. The garage has become a hoarder's sanctuary.
I push the door to the house open and immediately run into a couple of pairs of shoes on the ground. My eyes cast around the house. Piles of clothes are stacked on top of the washer with more piles strewn across the ground. Empty detergent containers spill out of the overflowing can. Full garbage bags wait by the door for someone to take them out to the bin. Hangers, baskets, lone socks, lint, dirty football jerseys, shoes, schoolwork, mud, and sewing supplies cover every inch of the laundry room.
My stomach churns with the old familiar feeling of disgust.
Caroline leads the way, stepping over the chaos. I slowly follow behind, knowing the worst is yet to come. The air in my lungs catches when I round the corner to the kitchen. I can’t even see the counters. They’re full of dirty dishes, bags of chips, sour milk, soiled paper towels, water bottles, piles of junk, food left out, and grocery items that never got put away.
The weight of the mess presses against my chest like it did when I was a teenager, but I remind myself this is no longer my problem. I have boundaries now. My mom and dad’s filth is theirs alone. I don’t have to carry it, fix it, or clean it.
Instead, I help Caroline to the couch, removing several toys and bowls so she has a place to sit down. “Looks like everything is the same here.”
