Max knew as soon as the tall, emerald trees began lining the streets that they were close. The bus had left behind the dirty beauty of the city and she felt so far away from herself, as if her mind had taken form and run screaming back to Brooklyn. Her thoughts weren't racing — they were slowly suffocating her to the point she felt dizzy. Luckily, her fear was constantly interrupted by the redhead sleeping on her shoulder. The bus bounced and so did Anna's head, right on top of Max.
"Hey, is this it, you guys?" Chris rose from his seat and looked out the window.
Max turned to see the buildings and streets she used to know so well. "Yes," she said, her voice shaking.
Anna yawned and smacked her lips, looking around in confusion. "Are we there yet?" she said, sounding annoyed.
Max and Chris looked at her with eyebrows raised.
"What?"
Chris laughed. "Nothing, baby, I'm sure you had a rough time waiting while you were asleep."
She yawned and stuck her tongue out at him. "It was dreadful."
Max nudged her, staring out the window with huge eyes. She saw the bus station and immediately regretted her decision to come back.
"Anna, I shouldn't have done this." Her words picked up speed. "This was a horrible idea, I can't do this, please—"
"Hey, hey," Anna said softly. "I'm right here. I won't leave your side. We are doing this together, okay?"
Max's eyes softened, but her breath felt stuck in her chest.
The bus came to a creaky stop and the doors flew open.
"Swiftwater!"
The word made Max's eyes well up with tears. She pushed Anna forward so she didn't have to get off first. The aisle felt miles long. Anna turned to the right and grabbed her hand.
"You're safe. I promise you're safe—"
"Off the bus!!" The driver stared, clearly agitated.
Anna snapped around. "We are going, lady! Screw off!"
Max quickly continued pushing Anna forward. As she passed the rude driver she smiled and mouthed a "sorry" which did not look well received.
Before Max had a chance to look around, she heard a loud car horn beep three times. She turned abruptly and found her stare met by her father, Jeremy. She felt awful looking at his face, full of excitement, when she felt rotten inside.
"Hey everyone!" His voice was loud and happy. "You made it!"
He laughed nervously. Max figured he thought she might make a run for it, and she kind of wished she had.
Anna ran over and gave him a hug, then motioned for Chris to come over.
"Hey, Mr. Redding!" He put his hand out to shake. "Good to see you, sir!"
Jeremy smiled big and grabbed him in for a hug. "Come on, we hug! You're a part of the family now!"
Time seemed to stop as Chris smiled and stepped away. Max's eyes met her father's and it felt like it was just Max and Jeremy. He looked at her with a small smile.
"Hey, kid." Max felt paralyzed as her father began talking. "I'm glad you're here."
Max thought he sounded more subdued than he had in Brooklyn. Which made sense because the last time they'd met she'd wanted to rip his head off.
"Hey." That was all Max managed to get out. She knew she was already disappointing him with her lack of enthusiasm, so she shook her head and walked up to him with a bit more eagerness.
"Hey, Dad. Sorry. I'm glad, too." She let out the breath she'd held since they left the city.
"Ready?" Jeremy turned around and motioned to a gray Toyota. "Here we are! She isn't much, but she drives like a champ!"
Jokes. Max had no patience for jokes, but she smirked anyway.
"Mr. R.!" yelled Anna. "I love the new ride! When did you get rid of the Satur—"
"Few days ago. Just . . . felt like a change." Max saw him look back at her through the corner of his eye.
The man had bought a new car because he had still been driving his beat up red '96 Saturn. The same car he'd had since Max was just a kid. That's dedication, Max thought to herself.
"Well! I love it. Very stylish." Anna winked and hopped in the front seat.
Max and Anna had decided before they left that Max was not to be in the front of anything — no attention drawn to her.
The car engine started and Max jumped. She knew she was stuck for sure now.
Jeremy pulled out of the parking spot and headed toward the "new" house full of old nightmares.It had been so many years, but not enough to forget. She still knew the way home and everything looked the same. A new Starbucks or yoga studio had popped up here and there, but Max felt the weight of being in the place she was taken from. It still looked like "home." They got closer and closer, winding through streets full of beautiful greenery and children running with smiles on their faces. Max wondered how she would've turned out if that had been her childhood. Would she be happy right now? Would she be attending college? Would she have run off with Anna to New York? Would she be normal?
Her thoughts were spinning now, spinning faster and faster the closer they got. The car stopped. She didn't even want to look up. But when she gathered the courage, to her surprise, the house in front of her looked nothing like the one that had stood there before. Her face softened, admiring the dark plum house with white trim. It was so beautiful. The flowers that rested underneath both windows were brilliant shades of yellow, white, and purple. She looked to her left and where there had once been bushes, she now found a tall white fence separating the Johnston's house from theirs.
But the fence didn't stop the fear from flooding back. She dug her nails into the healed wounds, now scarred. Everything went dark when she remembered a man muffling her screams with a hand towel, dragging her quickly across the lawn. Max's eyes slammed shut and she tried hard not to yell out. She felt herself losing control, when Jeremy placed his hand lightly under her chin. It startled her — she let out a breath and looked at him, scared and unsettled.
"It's going to be okay. Stay with me, sweetie, I'm right here. Will you take my hand?" He put his hand out slowly.
Max's breathing calmed and she hesitantly put her hand in his.
"Would you like to see the inside?" He smiled kindly as always.
Max managed to squeak out, "Yes."
She shut her eyes for the rest of the walk, allowing her father to guide her through the door.
With Jeremy's help, Max entered the home that she'd once loved, now feeling angry that someone had ripped that away from her. The thought quickly left her mind, however, as she looked around at the rooms in front of her. Nothing was familiar. The living room, attached to a music room that had once been a dining room, looked dark but inviting. The room was painted a light brown with white crown molding, and she was pleased to see the horrible peach color from before gone — she had never liked it. Jeremy had kept it after her mother died because she'd painted it and unfortunately he'd wanted everything kept the way she had wanted it.
To Max's left, the music room matched the colors of the living area, with posters of famous musicians scattered along the walls, complete with paintings of guitars, saxophones, and any instruments she could think of to accompany Eric Clapton, The Beatles, and The Rolling Stones. She took note that her father had included a giant poster of Madonna for her. Secretly, Max had loved Madonna since childhood because of her mom. They'd danced to "Open Your Heart" many nights, much to Jeremy's dismay. Max looked at the poster and saw her father smiling at her, and for the first time that day she smiled back.
Both rooms were lined with hardwood ebony floors which practically made Max exclaim "thank god!" She never wanted to look at those white, dirty carpets ever again.
I guess some dreams do come true, she thought to herself.
"I went a bit more exciting with the kitchen. I hope it's okay." Jeremy laughed, but Max could tell he really did hope she liked it.
Her eyes landed on what had once been a white kitchen, now dark red with dark cabinets and a black and white checkered floor.
She smiled gently and looked back at him. "This is bad-ass." But her smile turned to nervous laughter as she quickly corrected herself. "It's really cool! Sorry for cussing."
He laughed and took her hand once again as they turned toward the rest of the house. Jeremy seemed like he was becoming increasingly nervous as they moved closer to Max's new bedroom. They walked the hallway that used to be filled with pictures of Max's mother, her parents together, and "Violet," but no family photos were there anymore. Just a continued light brown leading all the way to three doors.
"I thought you should have a say in what went up here." Jeremy pointed to a stack of paintings. "I wouldn't exactly call myself stylish. I figured you would do a better job."
Max nodded her head, but she couldn't take her eyes off her old bedroom door. Jeremy quickly scooted ahead of her and motioned toward a different room. "This is your room now! I hope you are okay with that. It's bigger and has an attached bathroom." He grabbed the door knob. "You're eighteen, I assumed you would want a little more privacy than before."
The mystery door opened up to dark green walls with a black accent wall and Max immediately fell in love. She thought her father had heartily dismissed her love of black, but apparently he hadn't. The bed had an old gothic-looking frame that was also pitch black. Her comforter was a deep, beautiful purple complete with green, lacey accent pillows. The lamps on the nightstands were also lacey and green to match the pillows and walls. She didn't stop her mouth from hanging open, looking at the room that was now hers, and she couldn't believe how much she loved it. The floors were hardwood and had a round, fluffy, black carpet in the middle. Max smiled at the tacky, adorable rug.
"Dad . . ." she whispered softly, on the verge of tears, as she walked to her bathroom.
It was a dark purple to match her bed sheets and had the checkered floor she loved from the kitchen. There was nothing she didn't like and for the first time since she'd left Brooklyn, she felt safe.
Max turned to her father, took a breath, and threw her arms around him.
He jumped, undoubtedly taken by surprise because she hadn't been very affectionate since they'd been reunited, but she felt him put his arms around her, and enjoyed every second of their rare moment of happiness.
She pulled back and stared at her father that she'd once been so terrified to see. "Thank you."
Her gratitude was sincere, and she could tell it made Jeremy feel something they both hadn't in seven years.
Happiness. A complete, unfaltering happiness.
There was a knock at the door Max, and she snapped her head to the front door, once again putting her guard up.
Jeremy placed his hand on her shoulder. "If it's okay with you, Delia would love to see you. If not, you are more than welcome to have me leave her out there."
He and Max shared a small laugh.
"No, it's okay. Of course."
His face lit up as he walked swiftly to the door.
The door opened and Max couldn't believe her eyes. Miss Delia looked exactly the same. She was just as beautiful, soft, and light as before. No darkness ever clouded around her — her smile was much too bright and infectious for that. Max was expecting the sympathetic look she dreaded from everyone, but instead she was met with a happy, smiling face. Max had a hard time smiling back because the commotion was slowly making her tired. Her love for the invisibility she had once enjoyed had not left her and she hoped this would be the only long-lost introduction for a while.
Still, she walked forward to greet her old teacher. Stopping about five feet away, she managed to speak. "Hi."
Delia grinned and a tear slipped from her eye. "Max . . . my god." She sounded like she could hardly speak until her voice blurted out, "You are so beautiful, honey!!"
She walked up to Max and put her hands on her face softly. Max didn't mind. Delia was the kindest, most compassionate person she'd ever met, and she couldn't help but finally smile at her.
"I am so happy to see you, darling." Delia stepped back. "Would you be terribly upset if I hugged you?"
"No," Max laughed quietly. "I'm happy to see you too."
They embraced and Max saw a tear fall from Jeremy's eye.
"Okay!" exclaimed Delia, breaking Max's focus on her father who was now wiping his tears away. "What's for dinner? I can make anything you want, Max!"
"Oh, well I'm fine with whatever you guys want."
Jeremy looked like he was about to speak up, but Delia beat him to it. "Honey! This is your first night back! We can eat paper if you want!"
Max hung her head and laughed. "Okay, I guess I wouldn't mind having an actual meal, it's been about seven years."
Max chuckled, but quickly realized they probably wouldn't find that as funny as she did. "Some meat? Vegetables? Is that too much? If it is that's tota—"
"Oh please! I can make that in my sleep. I'll get started, just have to run to the store real quick. Is that all right?"
Max smirked and nodded her head yes.
Delia's smile grew as she left in a hurry, practically bouncing out the door.
"Are you sure you don't mind her being here? She's just so happy for you—"
"Dad, she's great. I'm fine, I promise. I'll let you know if I'm not, deal?"
"Deal!"
He went to sit on the brand new leather couch and pointed to the glass coffee table, accented with white flowers. "She felt very strongly about this coffee table." He laughed to himself. "So we'll eat here! If you wanted to say how much you adore the table, I'm sure she wouldn't hate it."
Max snickered. "Yes, I'll remember that."