“Do you want to set the table? Matt should be home soon.”
“Not a problem.” I jump off the stool at the kitchen bar and walk over to the little four-person dining room table in the open-concept living space. Knowing Amanda likes place mats, something I learned the first day I moved into their townhome only six days ago, I reach into the buffet table that rests against the wall and fish out the pretty purple and green paisley print placemats. “Uh, does Matt usually work this late?” It’s still awkward, trying to think of conversation with my half-sister since we haven’t spent much time with each other.
“No, not really. During baseball season, he works a little longer than normal, but since it’s off-season he gets home pretty early. He called earlier and said he had to go down to the hospital to be with one of his players.”
“Oh no, I hope everything is okay.”
“Me too.” She gives the sauce a few more stirs before reaching into the cabinet above her and pulling out plates for me to set on the table. “Did you talk to your grandma today?”
“I did.” I swallow hard, her words of wisdom on constant replay in my head.
You need to start living.
You need to enjoy this time with your sister.
You need to get a job.
You need to meet people.
You need to put yourself out there.
“How is she doing?”
“Good.” I take the plates and set them on the table. Walking over to the silverware drawer I continue, “She’s been making some progress in moving her left hand but that’s pretty much all she can do for now. It’s going to be a very long road for recovery.”
“But cognitively, she’s sounding good?”
“Yeah,” I sigh, setting out the silverware. “Hey, I know I’ve said it a few times, but I really want to thank you and Matt for taking me in. With Gram’s hospital bills and now all her money going to her senior living . . . Well, I really appreciate it.”
Amanda walks over to me, a warm smile on her face. She envelops me into a hug and says, “Anything for my sis. We’re blood. I’m just glad we have this time to get to know each other better.”
“Me too. But I do feel bad at times. I feel like I’m intruding on your new engagement.”
“You’re fine, don’t even worry about it. Matt and I have been together for far too long, you’re not interrupting anything.” She pulls away and looks me in the eyes. “I do want to talk to you about something.”
“Okay,” I reply suspiciously, not sure what she wants to talk about.
“I’ve been thinking about our conversation we had last night, how this is an opportunity for you to step out of your comfort zone and really experience life.”
“Yeah.” It’s true. Even though I’m terrified, this might be a golden opportunity to reinvent myself, to really break out of my shell.
“I agree.” Excitingly fidgeting she continues, “My friend, Hollyn, is starting this program next week. It’s called Dear Life and it’s designed to help you face what’s holding you back in life, break free, and move forward. To let go of your past, perceived faults, failures, shortcomings, losses, and learn how to live again. I don’t know.” She shrugs. “It might be something kind of great for you. Here, let me pull up the website.”
Amanda flips open her iPad and starts typing away in the browser, meanwhile, two words hit me hard.
Break free.
By no means did my grams hold me back. She provided for me, educated me, and gave me a beautiful life, but there is so much more out there. I’ve already found that out in the few days I’ve been staying with Amanda.
For one, there is love. Real love. Not movie love which I’ve consumed my entire life. But real-life love where two individuals come together and share each other’s passions, their faults, and their accomplishments.
I want that.
There is an entire world I never knew existed outside the little five-block radius I previously called home. There is food I want to try, places I want to see, people I want to meet, but getting out there, breaking free, I have no clue how to do it.
“Here.” Amanda hands me her tablet and goes back to stirring the sauce.
I look at the website with its vivid colors and lively pictures of people laughing and smiling. What would it feel like to be one of those people? To have friends? Comradery with others.
“I don’t know,” I say nervously. “It looks like it’s for people who might be going through a tough time.”
“It’s for everyone,” Amanda states soothingly. “Anyone can join who wants to make a change.”
“But what about a job? I don’t have any money. I can’t mooch off you forever.”
“I don’t want that either.” Amanda turns around and hands me an envelope that was on the counter. “You were supposed to get this three weeks ago when you turned twenty-one.”
Flipping the envelope, I questioningly glance at Amanda. “What is this?”
“Open it up.” She nods at the envelope, not giving me any clue.
I take no time finding out and tear the envelope open to find a check resting inside with my name on it for fifty thousand dollars. Eyes wide, mouth open, I ask, “What is this?”
“I got one too when I turned twenty-one. Apparently the father we share thought it would be fitting to invest in us when we were young.”
“This is mine? All of it?”
“All yours, sweetie.”
“But, I’ve never had money before,” I say in disbelief. Amanda chuckles as the door to their townhome opens.
“Looks like we need to open a bank account then.”
“I guess so.” I sit on the kitchen bar stool staring at my check when Matt walks into the kitchen, his tie loosened from around his neck, and the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up.
“That was a fun day,” Matt says with a sarcastic sigh, reaching into the fridge and pulling out a small drink container full of milk. From above the fridge, he grabs a giant tub of protein mix and starts scooping powder into his milk.
“Hey, we are going to eat soon,” Amanda chastises.
“Don’t worry, honey, I plan on eating too. I have about fifteen hundred calories I still have to consume.”
Matt has been trying to bulk up before the wedding. His plan is to pack on muscle and weight and then to shred two months before the wedding. Amanda thinks it’s ridiculous since he’s built like Zac Efron, and therefore meant to have a smaller frame. Now that I think about it, he looks like Zac Efron too, a man I’ve recently become familiar with thanks to the wonderful world of Google.
Still reeling about the check in my hand and the opportunity to maybe join a program to help me explore, I ask Matt, “Not a good day?”
“No,” he shakes his head. “Too much heavy shit for me.”