Though the sun would be setting soon, the heat still baffles her. Her brown legs stick uncomfortably to the leather of her '95 Volkswagen beetle and she'd already changed her shirt twice, opting for a sleeveless thing that draped over her in a way that every small breeze felt heavenly against her bare skin underneath it. She pushes her sunglasses on top of her head and leans out of the window, squinting at the numbers hanging above the white door. Her heart thuds in her chest. This is it, she thinks. She sits back in her seat, ignoring the discomfort of the warm leather. She could start her car again and leave. Call this just another stop on her soul-searching tour and knock the backwood small town off of her bucket list. In the rearview mirror she catches sight of her suitcase, a worn old thing and it seems to stare back at her, challenging her, "You drove all this way for nothing." She mutters to herself. She worries her lip between her teeth and glances at the house again, at the small white Audi in the driveway.
Before she can talk herself out of it, she's hooking her car keys onto the belt loop of her mini skirt and climbing the stairs of the unassuming home. She hates the yellow siding, inspects it like a couple house hunting on HGTV. It looks all so suburban, so television family-esque. She thinks behind these doors she'll find a family of four, a mother that works from home, a father with a demanding career, two children, a boy and a girl. The unfamiliarity of it all almost frightens her back to her car. You're in over your head, she thinks. The white curtain over the door's window is sheer enough that she can see into the home. The foyer is dark and empty, save for a pair of shoes discarded at the bottom of the stairs. She knocks.
It seems like hours pass and with every moment she thinks that if no one answers then at least she tried and she can credit herself with that. She can wrap that up like a participant trophy and take it back on the road with her. She knocks again just so she can say she put in some effort. She's content with no response until she hears someone call out, "Just a minute!"
She takes a solid step back from the door. Her heart and mind are in overdrive and she's ready to run when the door swings open. The girl before her looks to be only a few years younger, her dark brown hair is pulled up into a bun at the top of her head. Her skin is brown, seemingly a shade off from her own and she looks surprised. "Hi, how may I help you?"
She doesn't respond immediately, thrown off kilter, suddenly everything she was prepared to say and do flies from her mind and she's left standing there, dumb and struck. She's slightly taller than the girl before her so she spares a glance over her, catches the glimpse of collapsed brown moving boxes, and duct tape on the coffee table. She catches the scent of something delicious simmering on the stove. "Ma'am?" The young woman interrupts her thoughts and her gaze snaps back to her. Her eyes are soft but her lips are pressed into a firm line. She's watching her closely, cataloguing her, sizing her up, perhaps?
"I-i'm sorry." She laughs shaking her head. "I was wondering if, uh, Rudy was in?" She shifts her weight from left to right and her hand goes to her car keys. She's awashed in nervous energy and not sure what to do with herself. The girl's eyebrows shoot to her hairline and she crosses her arms across her chest. She glances over her shoulder, as if she forgot she left something on the stove.
"Oh, am I at the wrong address?" She blunders on when the girl doesn't respond immediately. "I don't mean to disturb you."
"Oh, no!" The girl says quickly. "This is the correct place." She thrusts her hand across the threshold. "I'm his daughter, Bonnie." His daughter was her first guess and she's awashed in something else this time, a different emotion now renders her immobile and it takes a brief moment before she places her hand in the girls and they shake. A sense of relief combs over her and before she can stop herself, she sighs.
"I'm May."
"It's nice to meet you, May." Bonnie says and tilts her head regarding her a little differently now. "Unfortunately, Rudy isn't here just yet. His flight doesn't come in until this evening. Would you like for me to let him know you stopped by?"
May fidgets a little and a feeling she can't shake settles over her. She could count it divine intervention that he isn't present at the moment and get in her car and drive away but she knows she won't be content with that and something tells her that she dare to stay one night.
"Actually, do you think you know a time I could stop by tomorrow?" She says in a rush. "It's very important that we speak."
"Oh, well." Bonnie frowns. She wants to press her and ask what's important about it. "Uh, he and I usually have breakfast together when he comes back from long business trips. Is 9 too early for you?"
"I can do that." May tells her with a nod of her head. "I'll see you guys then."
"Alright. It was very nice to meet you, May." Bonnie's hand on the door is a clear understanding. May backs toward the stairs with a wave.
"Likewise."
Yelp reviews told her to bypass The Mystic Grille and The Normont motel and she ignored both. Her bank account balance told her she had no room to be picky. A handsome young man with blonde hair and blue eyes showed her to a table near the bar. She perused the menu despite being sure that her appetite was nowhere to be found as her mind was preoccupied.
Her mother had been her only family and her untimely death had been proven to be most difficult. May had struggled by both financially and mentally. It had driven her directly into the darkness of depression and every morning she woke with an ache in her chest and a stillness in her bones. Ailsa had been her best and possibly only friend and every day May missed her dearly. It's been a year since then. Her mother had been laid to rest but the void still persist. That feeling had left May scrambling for something. The pull had disoriented her so much that in the week she spent packing up her mother's old house and moving everything to a storage unit, she began planning a trip.
Though her mother rarely spoke about her hometown and she had never taken May there to visit, her curiosity had been enough to start mapping out a visit. The desire to busy herself with something, anything to take her mind off of her mother's death was the necessary push toward subletting her studio apartment and packing her car.
She was here now and she was definitely thinking somewhere between boxing up her old *N-Sync backstage board game and stuffing her shit into a car-that she had fucked up.
"What can I get you?" A woman interrupts her thoughts.
"A whiskey sour and a fresh batch of sweet potato fries, puhlease."
Bonnie Bennett turns the volume up, indulging in another episode of True Blood though the clock kept warning her she should call it a night. She changes her mind. Turns the television off and the lights and makes her way to her room. She doesn't want to be awake when her father walks in. She has no clue if she has too much or entirely too little to say to him.
He'd tasked her with packing up her grandmothers house. He said he was coming home so they could put it on the market and the idea of doing that frightened her silly. It said beyond reason that Sheila Bennett was dead and would not be returning. It made her heartache in a new way. She ran a shower picking through her pajamas for something comfortable. She probably shouldn't have offered for a complete stranger to come over for breakfast, she thinks suddenly. She feels ashamed for a moment because she'd find any reason to have someone there as a buffer so she doesn't have to confront her father. She's not ready for where that conversation will go. She shuts her bathroom door behind her, undresses and slides into the steam letting it calm and relax her. Half-heartedly she hopes that her father will give up the show of dutiful father sooner than he did the last time. She wants as much peace as possible before she clambers off to college.
Bonnie dresses quickly, sliding into a light white dress and tying her hair away from her neck. She makes quick work of breakfast, making toast, turkey bacon, scrambled eggs, a fresh batch of coffee for her father and green tea for herself. Bonnie stands at the window above the sink staring out at the overgrown backyard.
"Morning!" Her father bounds into the room. "You didn't have to cook, we could have gone out somewhere."
"If that's your polite way of saying I can't cook, then I'll accept it." She laughs. She turns from the window watching him pour himself a mug of coffee. She inhales deeply bracing herself for her next question. "How long are you back for?"
"Just a week." He shares seating himself at the island counter and fixing himself a plate. "Is this turkey bacon?" His face scrunches up and he holds the meat in the air, sniffing it.
"Kill the dramatics. I made some diet changes." She shares taking a sip of her tea. "Try it." She urges. "Dad-"
A knock on the door interrupts her. Her father looks to her as if to ask if any of her friends were coming by. "This girl stopped by yesterday."
"A girl?" He asks. His brows furrow and his fork clatters onto the floor.
"I think that's her. I'll get it-"
"No, I'll take care of it." Bonnie stops where she's standing when her father jumps from his seat. Wiping his hands on a napkin and tossing it on his shoulder. "You go ahead and eat." She watches him for a moment before following him. She secures a spot in the living room, leaning against the wall and listens.
May realizes her mistake as soon as the door spares a glance backward before he steps unto the threshold.
"It's a little early for dropping by." He says by way of greeting.
"Your daughter told me I would have a better chance of speaking with you today." May lifts her sunglasses to the top of head and regards him coolly. "My mother said I'd be able to find help here-"
"Your mother is wrong-"
"She's dead." Though it was a truth she had resigned herself to, it still hurt to say aloud. She curls her fingers into a fist at her side. She watches his face, searching for a twitch or tiny turn of the corner of his lips. He just lowers his gaze. She watches him reach into his back pocket, brandishing his wallet.
"So, what? Do you want money? Is that it?" She watches him peel off money and scoffs.
"I don't want your money." She laughs humorlessly. "My gut told me this was a huge mistake." She shakes her head, her ponytail swinging with the action. "I don't want shit from you."
Rudy threw his arms wide, an incredulous expression in his face. "Then why are you here?"
"What's going on dad?" Bonnie steps forward, having heard enough to eliminate her desire to stay hidden. Rudy turns as the girl steps forward, joining him in the doorway. May watches her eyes flit from Rudy's cash to May and then back to Rudy. She stays silent waiting to see what he says next. What his next move will be.
"Nothing." He says and something within May burns with anger. She turns her gaze on Rudy, watching. Listening. "Just tying up old ends."
May then thrusts her hand into the air between her and Bonnie. The girl looks at her in confusion. Didn't they already cover this? May glances at Rudy, catches the gleam in his eye, a surge of emotion that she had hoped for when she said her mother was dead. She returns her gaze to Bonnie.
"I may have misled you. My real name is Mary McCullough." She smiles but it doesn't reach her eyes. "And by way of this bastard." She jerks her head in Rudy's direction. "I'm your older sister."