Didn't Hear Myself

Heat was choking my skin, and I brought a hand to my face. Sitting up, the tears rolled down my face though I couldn't quite remember why I had been crying. Stillness was the best treatment after waking up, so I covered my eyes and took a deep breath.

The carpet beneath my feet, my weight sinking against the couch cushions, my fingers against my eyebrows, my eyelashes fluttering against my palms. Here- Tired again. Here- each sensation attesting that I was in the apartment, not that I just believed I was. Pressing my hands against my face, I picked my phone off the coffee table and unlocked it.

"Hey guys, do you think I can come over for Autumn break?" I forgot I had asked Kayla to text them for me. My heart felt fuzzy for a moment.

"Of course- and you always know you don't have to ask! We miss you lots! See you soon :)" Part of me mentally gagged, but the other part reprimanded me. Be grateful that they care for you. I opened up my notebook app and closed my eyes once more, the details receding further away the more I searched for them.

'Bella', 'Jane'- I typed them into a new slot and shut my phone off. Deciding to get a start to what was bound to take course over the next two weeks, I started to pack my bag for going home. I knew Kayla would be grateful that it's warmer down where they live, so I stuffed in my bathing suit and sunscreen.

Lost in my thoughts, I cleared out my car and started to pack it up, leaving space for Kayla. It was so early in the morning, the sky was just barely navy, and the parking lot lights were still on. Our small building- the flowers on our neighbors deck; the thought of leaving left a sour taste on my tongue.

Kayla met me at the lobby door, passing me our snacks. She must have woken up at me shuffling around.

"You ready to go? Got everything?" My hand traced the edges of my notebook from within my pocket. With a nod, we got in the car and turned on the AC, the only sounds that of the GPS and my pen idly doodling. I tried to prepare myself for going home by being as mellow as I could. The beat to a song Kayla was humming batted against the steering wheel, her eyes focused on the road. I had to admit that driving wasn't something I should be doing currently, but I was hesitant. Giving it up meant losing a sort of freedom I never knew I relied on.

"Is that one me?" My daydream snapped away. I looked down and recognized I was on the page I had done yesterday.

"Yea," I looked at it tenderly. I wished I could draw better, she looked so half-made on my pages.

"Does that mean I'm the girl of your dreams?" She winked and wiggled her eyebrows, her chest puffed out.

"Do you even have to ask?" I scoffed. Her laugh bounced around the car and a smile was left on her face for a good while. As we drove further south, we pulled off a couple times to nap for a few hours, and I tried to come up with a way to seem less tired. We kept driving until early Wednesday morning, and we finally arrived at our hometown.

"Do you think the bakery is still going?" Kayla asked. Did it matter? This place, this town- I felt caged in looking at the familiar buildings. The old downtown looked exactly the same; the narrow street shops and boutiques trapped in a 70s design. The sidewalks were paved with little bricks, and every few feet, stood a delicate flowering tree. Daisies and black-eyed susans stood watch at every doorway and at the base of every antique streetlamp. The bright sun cast its eye down the center of the road while the wind made the plants sway alluringly. Everything whispered 'meadow'- the rolling, lush fields; the sultry deep shade. A beautiful town- a beautiful boring town.

As we got closer, I sat up and combed my hair, and put some effort into concealing the puffy bags under my eyes with makeup. It didn't make much a difference, but it was better, Kayla said.

As I watched the weeping willows blush past my window, I let the voice have more of a place in my mind. 'Innocent until proven guilty' didn't matter. How I feel matters- I should allow myself to feel them.

The sun was swallowed by overhanging trees, and the asphalt grew smooth and curvy. At the corner before the creek, we turned onto the gravel drive, my eyes resting on the ivory sign they kept at the base of their driveway.

"THE STEVENSONS"- it boldly announced in firm roman lettering. Small flowering trees lined the long drive, and looking up, loomed the massive farm-style house. It looked homely with its subtle charm, but even looking at it felt strange. The flowerbed was too still, the windchimes were too silent; it was like entering a space which shouldn't exist.

Before Kayla parked the car, I stuffed my notebook into an obscure pocket of my bag and covered it with clothes. The gravel crunched beneath the tires, and as if summoned by the sound, Mrs. Stevenson opened the door and waited for us on the porch. My throat felt like it was made of coins, and I could tell I didn't want to overspend my time here. As Kayla's hand shifted the stick into park, I laid my hand on hers.

"Don't tell them about the dreams. I'll..." My tongue grew heavy. Her eyes lifted and held my gaze in agreement, and by the tilt of her head I could tell Mrs. Stevenson was approaching us. I coughed up the cotton in my lungs and got out of the car.

"Hey Ma-" Her worn hands roped around and squeezed me tightly. The overwhelming smell of sweet perfume rolled off her hair.

"Oh babycakes," Another sqeeze. "How come we never hear from you now that you've moved out? You've even gotten Eliza worried." I doubt it.

"Oh, she's here?" At seeing Kayla get up from the car a huge grin split up her peachy face. Poor, poor Kayla.

"Kayla! It's been so long!" They set to talking and I took it as a chance to start unloading everything.

The sounds of my footsteps echoed over the wooden flooring of the house, and I made it a point to set our things upstairs in my old bedroom. It looked the exact same as I had left it, minus a few things picked up here or there. My harry potter books, my journals and trinkets. The room was just as empty as I had left it. Bare walls, plain quilted bed. I set our bags down on top of the comforter and took extra care to stuff my bag underneath all the other ones. We don't want a repeat of last time.

Hearing soft chatter coming from the parlor, I followed their voices downstairs and sat beside Kay on their white wicker sofa. My coming-in had the misfortune of being during a segue of their conversation.

"Was it a long drive? Typha, you look so tired! I'll go get you guys some ice-tea. Luckily I made a strong brew today."

I opened my mouth to say thanks, but she was already gone from the parlor. Even with so much makeup on, it really didn't make a difference. I sucked in my frustration and held it in my chest for a few moments.

The wicker furniture, the green carpet, the fake vased flowers. Even the dust wanted to leave this house.

She came back with a tray of ice tea and sat across from us in her chair. She looked the same- curled wheat hair, smile-lines, creased capris and wearing a jacket only women over their 60s thought shouted 'high end'.

"Oh Ty, darling." She brushed her silvered blond hair from her shoulder. "You should take a nap later, you must have driven a long portion of the trip."

I blinked my eyes dryly.

"I don't want to miss anything though- it's been so long since I've been home." Holding a sickly sweet smile on my face made me want to throw up.

"I guess you're right then- Eliza stopped by with her son. They're gonna come back for dinner tonight! You two could help me cook some!" I chanced a glance at Kay and saw her rub her face.

"I think you should let Kay catch that nap, Ma." Kayla smiled gratefully. "She drove the biggest portion early this morning." Mrs. Stevenson nodded her head sympathetically.

"I put new sheets in Ty's old room. We're currently in the process of remodeling what was Eliza's, so y'all will have to share a bed for the night."

"That's all right, we won't be staying too long." My voice had started with a jagged hinge to it, but all the fire in my chest puffed into smoke. Be grateful they care for you. There's no reason to have a tone. With a graceful smile, she continued on as if I hadn't said anything.

"Tonight dinner will be at seven; I'll send Ty to wake ya up dove."

Kayla took that as her chance to stand up.

"Thank you Mrs. Stevenson, it's so nice being back." It was almost painful watching Kayla leave me alone in the room with her, but I needed to speak with her in private.

"What'er we gonna be making tonight?"

"Chicken pot pie," she smiled. "I'm excited to catch up with you; I wish you came down to see us more." I only nodded in mild agreement. I followed her out and through the dollied dinning room, and put on one of the extra aprons she had hanging up. 'Mother Hen' laid stitched across my chest in checkered embroidering.

She pointed me towards a cutting board and pulled up another for herself.

"How've you been? We haven't heard from you in awhile." I nodded, though really I just didn't like speaking.

"I've been ok- classes are ok." I could tell she didn't like how short I was speaking, but my hands wanted to shake. Why are you shaking? A deep breath- all I need is a little courage.

"Only ok? You're spending a lot of money for an 'ok' experience and a piece of paper." I bit my tongue. I didn't say anything.

She sighed tiredly and passed me some more carrots to chop.

"I still think you should have talked more to that Danny boy- he's still single you know." Don't roll your eyes, take a deep breath.

"Eliza's so happy, don't you think-"

"I'm not ready for that sort of thing Ma-" I'm not ready to settle down, or date, or do anything more complicated than drive myself to my counseling appointments. I'm even struggling doing just that. My hand moved up to rub my face, but I forced myself to keep chopping. You're wide awake.

"I know, but how come I never hear about any college boys who take up your fancy? You've gotta be living and not just studying all the time."

"I know." I don't want a lecture. My fingers holding the smooth hilt of the knife, the blade splitting the carrot with a satisfying kop- I let my eyes close for just a second. Everything in me felt so agitated- she's not who you think she is, it chanted. She's not your family.

"I've just been thinking a lot, and I wanna try to learn more about myself. " I let that hang in the air for a moment. "Actually, I wanted to ask you some things about when I was little."

At that she nodded.

"I understand that honey. I knew you'd have questions one day." A small smile pulled at my mouth. Guilt itched in my bones, but the voice continued to chant on. She's not who you think she is, she's not your family. I shook the words away- she's kind, she's not perfect- but she cares for me. She cares for me- I kept ringing it in my head against the murky murmurs.

"I kept a file from the orphanage that I figured you might want to see, given the circumstances. I'll give it to you after dinner when Eliza heads home." She stepped over and placed her hand on my arm.

"Typha, I know there is a lot of things going in your head that I won't ever understand, but I want you to know I'm praying for you." Looking into her powdered face, I knew she was giving me all the headway she could.

"Have you found a church by school? You know He'll always be there for you, no matter what, right?" My heart deflated slightly, and I put my finished carrots into a bowl.

"Not yet," I said. Not looking for one, is what I wanted to say.

A heavy sigh came from her, and she passed me some potatoes to skin. Before she could open her mouth to give me some sermon, I cut in.

"How is Eliza by the way? You said she has a son?" At the mention of Eliza's son, she seemed to forget she was about to preach to me the entire western hemisphere.

"Oh he glows- He's such a sweet little boy. He's gonna grow up to be just as strong as his papa..." She continued to gush about her grandson, and I feigned attention. A nod here, a nod there, and before I knew it, dinner was in the oven and I had set the dinning room table.

"Will you go wake Kayla up? Eliza is gonna be here any second now."

When I rounded the corner and was out of her view, I rubbed my face heavily and released the yawn which was building inside my chest. My hands shook slightly, but for today I would have to get through it. Going up the stairs felt like I was climbing a mountain, and I let myself pant a few times after I reached my door.

With a couple gentle knocks, I stepped inside and closed the door behind me.

"Hey Kay?" A low groan slipped from beneath the blankets. "Dinner is ready, Eliza is coming over too."

At that, she sat up in bed and waved me towards her. Once I was in arms-reach, she pull me down so I collapsed next to her.

"Double-o-eight, have you gathered anymore intel regarding the mission?" Her mock British-accent caused me to snort loudly. Just sitting on the bed made me want to close my eyes, so I got up and rubbed my face once more.

"I think I'll be getting something later tonight," I hinted. "But let's go and eat first, just being near a bed is torture right now."

We both got up and went downstairs. When we turned into the dinning room, Mrs. Stevenson and Eliza were chatting away; her coat was in Mrs. Stevensons hand, she must have just walked in.

"Ty!" Eliza stood up and rushed over to us. "It's been so long! Come meet your nephew." Nephew- just hearing the word made me feel old. Small, blonde, blue eyes. He was cute, if you liked children. I shook his little spit-covered hand politely. I'll probably forget your name on the way home.

It was a blessing when the oven beeped loudly, giving me an escape to help Ma dish-out the potpie and bring out the side dishes. Once we had all divi'ed up our plates and drinks, we all sat around the table.

After praying, dinner passed pleasantly- Eliza was more relaxed than she used to be, and she was ever proud to announce that 'motherhood changed her'. The way she kept repeating it every other sentence, made me whisper to Kayla that maybe it broke her too, but a hard kick to my shin made me stifle my laughter. Hearing how well she was doing made the entire dinner feel light, and with her being the prima donna of the night, it was nice to be on the sidelines.

It was clear that Mrs. Stevenson and Eliza had bonded over having children, and watching how they spoke to one another, I was glad that they had each other. My mind wandered to the papers Ma mentioned. Whatever she gave me, maybe it would be my golden ticket. The room upstairs- it could become my nephew's room. I could find answers- the dreams and fatigue will go away, I'll go back to school, get a degree, and live my own life. Maybe if everything sorts out, I'll stay as roommates with Kayla, and we can go to festivals and concerts. I could be there for her through breakups or bad test results, which get her down more than she would like to admit.

In the middle of an especially gross motherhood story, Eliza got a text from her husband, and decided it was time to head home. With a hug and a kiss, she was on her way, and it was just the three of us.