At the end of this rainbow, find your pot of gold. Bring your gloves, as you’re bound to get cold. The earth will be stiff, I have been told. Take the shovel from the basement and be wary of mold. At the top of the hillside, where there’s a view to behold, that is where you’ll spread the last of me and share your thoughts untold. Bid me farewell, my dear, and step into your future with a heart that is bold.
No. No, I’m not ready to say good-bye. Not yet.
All my love,
Aunt Franny
At the bottom of the paper is tomorrow’s date with two o’clock underlined, which is the time and place I’ll need to say good-bye to Aunt Franny, and presumably, also where I’ll find the money for the repairs. Based on her final riddle, it seems her treasure is buried.
Logically, I know that Aunt Franny has been dead for over a week, but with the letters and the clues, it felt like she was still here. I wondered why I hadn’t cried that much after arriving, considering I was staying in her house without her there. I’ve been constantly surrounded by her possessions and mementos from her past, and I wasn’t sad. Not as sad as I expected to be, anyway. And tomorrow, I’ll have to let her go.
I don’t want to. I’m not ready. She’s been here, guiding me through this strange purgatory that my life has turned into. What am I supposed to do without her?
Axil’s face pops into my head, and I realize he hasn’t shown up to spread Aunt Franny’s ashes. Surely, he was given a time and date to do so, right? Since he seemed to be her favorite of the Monroe boys. Maybe his is tomorrow, as well, but before mine.
That means I’ll have to see him, talk to him, and he’ll be wondering if I’m ready to give him an answer. I look down at Aunt Franny’s letter again.
“You are unhappy with your life in its current state. That is easily remedied, however.”
She’s right. I can change my situation. I don’t have to go back to L.A. and throw myself back into auditions with the constant stress over whether I’ll book a part I don’t even want just so I can pay my rent for another month. I could try something new with a fresh start somewhereelse. I could stay.
For the first time since I arrived, I realize that I…want to stay. This house could use some serious repairs, and the current decor is not my taste, but over time, I could turn it into an inviting, cozy space. I start looking around with fresh eyes, envisioning bold accent walls in the living room, wallpaper in the bathroom, and turning one of the small guest rooms into an office.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s a selfie of Sam in her outfit for tonight, sticking out her tongue as she looks in the mirror. She chose a sleeveless silver swing dress that hits just above the knee and has a large cut-out from the base of her throat all the way to the top of her ribs, so there is major cleavage and side-boob action. She’s going to pair the dress with a black velvet bow tie, a black tuxedo jacket, and platform oxfords.
When she came out of the dressing room, she looked like a celebrity about to walk the red carpet.
Sam:This night is ours, Vanilla. You’ll see.
I smile at her confidence. It puzzles me how she can be so nonchalant about being in the same room as Trevor. Everyone handles trauma differently, but with Sam, it’s as if what Trevor did doesn’t even phase her. I’m envious of that.
But maybe tonight, facing both Beth and Trevor in the same place will help me get there. I’d like to reach a place where the very thought of running into one or both of them doesn’t make me dizzy. I know I’ll probably never fully recover from what Trevor did. Part of me was taken that night. My body was no longer my own. It was a vessel to be used and harmed and tossed aside. That will stick with me.
It’s taken me a long time to feel comfortable during intimate, sexual encounters. For three years after that night, I was completely celibate. I didn’t even kiss anyone, because I was too afraid that I’d be paralyzed with fear the moment someone touched their lips to mine. Then I got back into it slowly, moving from one base to the next like an inexperienced teenager until I could go no farther.
Now, I’ve had sex. I’ve slid home, and my body feels like it’s completely my own. I get to decide what happens to and with it. Then came Axil with his adoring words––which felt over the top at first, but once I let the compliments settle, I felt like a goddess.
I can’t let him go. He’s become too important to me. I can’t say for sure whether I’m ready to marry him, but, as Kyan said, I know I don’t want to live without him. Icould, but I don’t want to. A life without Axil would be an unhappy, bland life.
Part of me wants to text him or run next door and say all this to his face. I’m sure he would love to hear the words, and he’d also love to accompany me to the reunion as my date. But I need to do this on my own. I need to know that I can be in the same room as these people without them emotionally destroying me. Once I know I can do that, I’ll tell him everything, and hope he still wants me.
A half hour later, I’m standing in front of the bedroom mirror, applying blood-red lipstick that perfectly matches Aunt Franny’s ruby necklace that hangs around my neck. My mascara is on, eyeliner has been neatly applied into a sleek cat-eye, hair is done, and my dress clings to my body in all the right places. It’s a black, floral mesh midi dress with spaghetti straps and lace accents in a mermaid silhouette. I couldn’t do a split in it to save my life, but hopefully there won’t be flexibility contests tonight and I can just look hot.
I hear a car pull into the driveway, then my phone buzzes.
Sam:Your chariot awaits.
I take a deep breath and shove my feet into my red, ankle strap pumps.
Here goes nothing.
CHAPTER 17
VANESSA
“Why didn’t you bring a jacket? Did you forget where you are?” Sam asks as we get out of the car and run toward the entrance of the school.
I’m rubbing my arms frantically to warm myself up despite the twenty-four-degree temperature. “I don’t know. Because I’m an idiot?”