Laurel Everywhere by Erin Moynihan

Laurel Everywhere by Erin Moynihan

Author:Erin Moynihan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ooligan Press
Published: 2020-07-15T17:28:49+00:00


17

When I get home, I notice the subtle changes. I was only in Kentucky for two days, but it’s like all the little changes that have happened between now and the accident are thrown into my face the minute I walk through the door. The way Grandma folds the towels—in perfect squares, whereas Mom preferred rectangles. And the way Grandpa scrubs down the kitchen counter so it’s spotless, while Mom and Dad never cared much about that. The way the flowers in the garden are starting to wilt. The emptiness of the entrance to the house, which always used to be littered with Rowan’s strewn-about jackets and Tansy’s crayons that always seemed to roll across the house into all the nooks and crannies. Now it’s clean. Too clean—as if it hasn’t really been lived in. I guess it hasn’t, not since the accident, because I wouldn’t call what Dad and I have been doing living.

Since I’ve arrived home, Grandma won’t stop pestering me to watch a movie with her. She’s doing the thing where people say they just want to spend time with you, but you know it’s really because they’re worried about you and they want to keep an eye on you. I don’t really feel like watching a movie though, because I’m afraid one of the characters will remind me of Mom or Rowan or Tansy, like how Phoebe from Friends reminds Dad of Mom.

Grandma looks very tired though, which makes me wonder if I should be keeping an eye on her too. I suggest we watch a baseball game, because there’s no way a baseball game could remind me of any of my missing people.

Dad always preferred books to sports, and Mom was one of those people who tried really hard to like sports when Rowan started playing soccer and I started playing volleyball, but she still clearly didn’t understand. Tansy was the one who wanted to dance instead of play a sport with a ball, which made Mom say, “Thank goodness, I don’t think my brain could have handled watching another ball be kicked or hit around.” That made Rowan mad because he was very good at soccer and that was his thing—it was what he was known for. I was never that good at volleyball, and I don’t think I ever will be because I’m not the right height to be anything but a setter and my hands always turn too far out when I try to set. Rowan made fun of me for that. It made me want to quit, but at the same time, he made me afraid to quit because he told all his friends I was going to be on the varsity team by the time I was a junior. Now I’ll just have to quit, because not only am I not all that good, but it’s become another thing that reminds me of Rowan.

Grandma leaves the room in the middle of the game. It sounds like she’s crying, but I’m not sure why a baseball game would make her cry.



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