Aria

 

 

 

“I hate cleaning,” I said to the dust bunnies.

With a broom in one hand and a dust pan in the other, I sniffled as I swept up the dirt and dust from my wooden floor.

It had been a few weeks since getting rid of the listening devices and working on the mural. Today I decided to take a break from painting and stay home to clean. Alex and I had found twenty bugs in his place before we came to my apartment where I found fifteen.

We destroyed most of them, except for the ones that were in our bedrooms. Those we kept and planted them near the animal exhibits at the Lincoln Park Zoo.

If Mrs. Hawthorne wants to listen in on what her son does in bed . . . well, she will now get her fill of crazy monkey sex.

Morgana comes home next week from New York and I wanted the place to be clean for her return. I went to visit her two weeks ago with her parents. She looked good but wasn’t as happy as I was hoping she would be.

Maybe coming home to a clean apartment and some of her mom’s cake that her mom was planning to make for a welcome home party would cheer Morgana up.

As for me, I’ve never been happier. Alex and I have yet to do the deed and I’m surprised that it doesn’t bother me.

A little too surprised. Something kept nudging at my chest every time I thought about having sex with Alex. And that scared me. I don’t mind him being my first boyfriend. I’ve been with him longer than I have been with any man, but eventually things will have to come to an end.

It’s not like we will be together forever. Just a summer fling, right?

Besides, Alex’s mom mentioned this woman Alexa. Perhaps she’s an old love. Some friend of the family that his mom would be overjoyed for Alex to be with.

My chest began to hurt again.

There was a knock at the door pulling me from my thoughts. I dropped the broom and dust pan like they were terrible because they were and went over to the door.

I glanced out my peephole expecting to find one of my neighbors since someone from outside would have to be buzzed into the building.

I gasped when I saw who it was. My hand shook as I reached for the doorknob and opened the door.

“Mom, what are you doing here?” I asked in shock to see the woman I hadn’t laid eyes on in over five years.

“Aria, it’s nice to see you,” she said as she tried to smile.

She was lying. Someone made her come here. My mom never wanted me and made it obvious with her actions, and even if she didn’t say the words, she believed the wrong sister died.

“Are you going to invite me inside?” She lifted her jaw the same way she did when she was unhappy.

“Yes, please come inside.” I stood back, opening the door to let her through.

I wasn’t surprised when her lips pursed as her eyes scanned my apartment. My mother was used to high-priced, upscale, and anything that was made of gold, platinum, and silk.

“It’s quaint.”

“You can stop pretending now,” I said as I frowned and waved toward the living area. “Come sit on the couch and tell me why you’re here. Is it Dad? Did he send you?”

I moved to the overstuffed chair next to the old, brown couch. Our hodgepodge of furniture was not up to my mother’s standards as she leaned down to sit like she was about to take a shit.

“Your father wants you to come to California,” she said as her eyes wandered around the room.

“Why?”

I wasn’t about to up and leave my friends and especially Alex, just because my father snapped his fingers.

“He’s having his fiftieth birthday. I am planning a big celebration.” My mother finally brought her attention back to me and not my second-hand furniture.

“You both live in California now?”

Last I knew they lived in Winnetka, just north of Chicago.

“Yes, we moved two years ago. Your father took on a client that is quite powerful. Has a lot of connections. You know how your father is, always trying to move up in the world.”

I rolled my eyes knowing what connections she was talking about. Where they saw money and power, every normal person saw crime and danger.

“I see you have moved on from Ava’s killing,” I said and watched my mother’s brown eyes for any hope of sorrow.

I was disappointed in what I found.

She scooted toward the end of the couch and reached over, placing her hand on mine. “Now, Aria, you know your sister wasn’t killed. She died of an overdose. The doctors confirmed it. I suspected she had a problem and hoped the clinic would’ve helped but we were just too late.”

I drew my hand back as if my mother’s touch was full of venom. “Clinic. Is that what you two have told yourself? You think if you say it enough you’ll believe it.” I laughed because if I didn’t I would sob. “Dad sold us to those people. Those disgusting criminals. His children. They drugged her and they would have drugged me but I escaped.”

I was the lucky one. Ava should have escaped. She was smart and brave and she deserved all the things. She could have found the cure for cancer or ended world hunger or done something that would go down in history. What could I do? I could paint. That doesn’t save lives. And even if I filled a million canvases with every color known to man, it would never bring her back.

My mother gazed down at her fingers and I noticed for the first time how worn they were. There were calluses and wrinkles and spots that I would expect to see on an eighty-year-old’s hands, not a fifty-five-year-old’s.

I leaned in as my mother started to speak with her head down as I could barely hear her.

“We were young when we had your sister. Your father had just started law school. It was hard in the beginning. The bills, the cost of college, and having a baby . . . we struggled. And then when you came your father had just started with a good law firm. We made a pact. He would take any job they gave him, even the cases none of the other lawyers would take, if it meant we would have enough money for you two.”

“That was then, Mom. And that’s no excuse for what happened to Ava.”

She gazed up at me, tears streaming down her face. “You’re right, Aria. But by then everything was out of control. And your father, he changed. It changed him. He became like them.”

The moment had come. My mother was finally admitting the truth. I fell to the floor, kneeled at her feet as I clasped her hands in her lap, my words pleading, “Then come with me. Get away from him. I can make sure you never see him again.”

Her eyes traveled my face as only a mother’s could. It had been so long since I had seen her look at me like that—full of love and pride.

“I’m so proud of you, Aria. No matter what’s happened, please know that I love you. That there hasn’t been a moment that’s gone by that I haven’t thought about you.”

That’s when tears fell from my face. I knew what she was doing. For so long I told myself I never wanted to see her again, but now that she’s here I never wanted her to leave.

I hated her and my father for so long, but now, I felt nothing but pity. My sister and I needed their help that day and they turned their backs, leaving us in hell. But I refused to make the same mistakes as them.

“Mom, please, I promise I’ll help you.”

Her smile grew soft as she waved me up to sit next to her. She drew me into an embrace. It felt good and long overdue.

When she pulled back I had hope. “I do miss Chicago; it’s so nice this time of year.”

She pushed a few tendrils from my brow.

I nodded. “Yes, it is. We can visit the Tower Road beach and take walks like we used to.”

She laughed. “Remember when Ava was so excited that we had a warm day in May that she ran into the lake, not realizing how cold the water still was.”

I threw my head back with a deep belly laugh at the memory.

“I remember. She shivered so much and I was worried when her lips turned blue. I hugged her the whole walk back to keep her warm.”

“We were so happy then,” my mom said and then sighed.

“We can be that happy again.”

She squeezed my hand and was about to say something when something in her purse buzzed. I had no idea what was in her purse but deep in my bones I felt it related to me. My stomach twisted as my mother reached for her purse to pull out her cell phone.

She tapped at it, reading whatever caught her attention.

“It’s your father. I have to go, Aria,” my mother said refusing to look at me.

“But you’ll come back, right?”

I got up as she made her way to the door. She opened the door and turned to me.

“It was wonderful to see you again. I meant it, I’m so very proud of you. Can I have one more hug before I go?”

I’d lost her. Just one word from my father, whatever he sent her, and she was lost once again.

“Of course, Mom. I miss you. I’ll always be there for you.”

She pulled me close. Her arms tightened around me. I felt the tears begin to fall as I tried to hold them back. Just before she let go she whispered into my ear, “Run as far as you can and don’t ever look back.”