“Oh, really,” I asked. “Did you watch?”
She flicked water at me. “I’ll never tell.”
I laughed and swam the length of the pool. Raindrop was one of Brother Jim’s women. As far as most of the family knew, he was with Raindrop and Moonbeam. He spent his time between Grandmother’s house, where Moonbeam lived, and here because of the growing tension between the two women. His assistant, Jasmine, traveled with him to both locations. She often joined both relationships.
Oh, Jim Bob was going to flip when he found out about River. For all his talk about sexual freedom, he expected to be the only one for his chosen ladies. The old double standard.
Well, maybe that’s one thing we had in common.
TWENTY-SIX2023
Aimee
I placed the photograph and the envelope on the kitchen island and stared at both. My skin prickled, my forehead slick with sweat as I studied the photo. I was sick of this person playing games. I wanted them to come out and tell me clearly what they wanted. Were they having fun, thinking they were scaring me? Although today, looking at this photograph only brought back good memories for me. Happy times.
The idyllic months living in Raindrop’s guesthouse cast feelings of freedom and love in my heart and mind. I couldn’t take my eyes off the photo. Dream and I were so happy, smiling by Raindrop’s pool. My heart ached looking at him, feeling such sadness at how everything used to be between us. It was a time when I thought anything was possible. Listening Lark was the first place I felt like I truly belonged and was loved. Where I was part of something bigger than myself and the longing inside me was finally satisfied. There, I hadn’t been lonely anymore. Tears welled in my eyes as I continued to stare at the picture. I missed all of them. Raindrop. River. Even Moonbeam, but especially Dream. If I could have stayed in a time loop in Listening Lark during the good times, I would in a heartbeat. I would have never left. Chanting in the mountains. The tiny cabin Dream and I shared when I first moved in. The guesthouse at Raindrop’s house. Big dinners together. They were my family. Listening Lark was a utopia.
Until it wasn’t.
I snapped out of my daydream, wiped my tears and thought logically about the photo, leaving the sentiment behind, where it should be left. Why send this to me now? After so many years? Time passed and people moved on. I didn’t even know if Listening Lark still existed. I didn’t want to know. I wouldn’t live in the past, but I needed to figure out what they wanted from me. What was the goal of these random gifts, if I would call them so, and strange occurrences at our house? To scare me? To hurt Archie and I?
One thing I knew.
Archie could not know about my past. I had closed the door on that part of my life and I would never open it again.
And if this person thought they would scare me with a few well-placed objects and lights turning on and off they had forgotten who I was, or maybe they never really knew me. Sometimes I wondered if anyone truly knew me.
Having people underestimate you is most often a gift.
It gives you an advantage. At least in my experience.
I glanced at the photo one last time before putting it away, and another thought crossed my mind.
This might be Dream’s way of saying he forgave me.
Could I forgive him?
What if Listening Lark was calling me home?
I rummaged through my closet trying to locate the shoebox of memories from my time at the commune. My time with Dream. I shoved a pile of purses to the side, sure I’d put the box underneath, but there was nothing.
I sat back on the hardwood floor. We only moved in a few months ago, and I remembered placing it under the purses. Why I even kept it, I didn’t know, but I couldn’t throw it out. Those things in that box were the only physical reminders of that period of my life. I dug around in my closet a little more, but it was useless. The box was gone.
Whoever sent me the photo and put the turquoise necklace on the vanity took the entire box. I remembered all the contents of the box. Necklace, a few photos, two dried lotus flowers, a soft T-shirt of Dream’s and a key to the guesthouse.
Raindrop gave me the key one afternoon when Dream and River went to pick up Brother Jim from the other house. I was sunning in a lounge chair by the pool and she walked outside, directly to me, clothed in a silky pink robe, looking gorgeous as always, and pressed the key into my hand.
“It’s the guesthouse key,” she said in a low tone.
“Uh… we don’t lock the doors.” I shook my head. “I don’t need this.”
“Keep it,” she said, glancing around. Nobody was in our immediate area. “I have a key to my bedroom. Sometimes I lock my bedroom door when I’m avoiding Brother Jim. I don’t need to come into my bedroom in my house and find him waiting for me.”
“You do?” I said, shocked.
Raindrop looked at me. “He’s been changing lately, been more physically aggressive. He’s different than I originally thought, all of this is. I’m not putting up with that. And he’s related to Dream, so maybe they share that tendency.”
“No,” I said firmly. “Dream is not like that.”
“Take the key,” she said. “You might need it one day.”
So, I took it.
Raindrop was right.
I did use it.
TWENTY-SEVEN2023
Aimee
“Okay, third grade, today we are going to talk about good nutrition!” Robin said in a sing-song voice. She clapped her hands and the students clapped with her. “Can anyone name some healthy foods?”
A blond boy in the front of the room raised his hands. “Apples! I like to eat apples with peanut butter, but not in school because you are allergic.”
“Yes! Thank you, Conner,” Robin said. “You like apples with peanut butter. I like apples, but no peanut butter because Miss Kent is allergic to peanut butter. Anyone else? Yes, Ally.” She pointed to a dark-haired girl in the back of the class.
“Tomatoes! Bananas! Carrots!” shouted Ally.
