“I got you a going away present.”
I manage to remain blank as her whole face lights up the way it used to when he was around. “You didn’t have to get me a gift,” she says, taking it, her grin barely lessening as she bites her bottom lip.
“It’s just something small, nothing to get excited over,” he says lightly.
I watch her tear into it, all aglow, and think about how this is yet another thing I’m not going to miss.
She’s delighted as she looks at the Disney movie, Aladdin. “My favorite,” she says.
“I know,” he says, with an affable wink.
She blushes with pleasure as she thanks him, impulsively stepping forward and giving him a hug that makes me want to die.
He turns to me once she lets go. I know he doesn’t have a gift for me, because he already gave it to me. An envelope with enough cash to get us situated in a small apartment. He wouldn’t give me that in front of Elise, because he wouldn’t want to embarrass me.
“You’ll be missed,” he tells me simply.
With a gruff nod, I mumble, “Yeah, you too.”
It sounds stupid once it’s out there, but all I want to do now is get the hell out of this house. For Elise, this place is home, but for me these past five years, it was never more than a sentence I needed to serve.
Not really knowing what else to do, I go for a handshake. It feels even stranger than my last utterance, but he shakes it anyway as I say, “Take care of yourself.”
“I will. If you change your mind, you know there’s a spot for you.”
“I won’t,” I assure him, meeting his gaze, “but thanks.”
As we turn to leave, Elise glances back over her shoulder. I keep my gaze straight ahead and lead her back to the kitchen to retrieve the cake and say goodbye to Mia.
I’m not expecting her to hug me, but she does anyway. “You’re sure you don’t wanna say goodbye to Meg?” she asks.
I shake my head. I just want to leave, to get to our new home and see what Elise thinks of it. I’m also still disappointed in Meg. Right from the start I thought she might suit Mateo, and while there had certainly been lies I caught her in, I didn’t think she was capable of pulling this off.
“Well, I’ll give her the package when I take her the cake.”
She ran this plan by me earlier. I’m not sure how Mateo will like it, but while I still have a few remnants of power in the house, I told Mia she could visit Meg and give her a break.
Once I walk out those doors, it’s not my problem anymore.
It feels a little weird, I’ll admit. I’ve imagined it so many times, but now that the moment’s here, I somehow don’t know what to expect. The rest of my life is on the other side of that door for once, and I have to start all over.
So does Elise. I hope that’s why she looks so anxious as we approach the front door. I hope the dread on her face is because she’s afraid of the uncertainty of this new beginning, because the mansion has been home to her since she was 15 years old, and now she’s 21, but without having ever had the freedom to grow up. Elise is sheltered and innocent in so many ways, but she’s resilient; I know eventually she’ll catch up. Eventually she’ll be okay.
She takes a deep breath and pushes it out as I open the door for her. My new car is silver and nondescript, nothing like I’m used to driving. Elise, she’s not used to leaving the house at all. She’s gone out on occasion, very rare occasion, but to be honest, aside from a trip to the grocery store, I don’t know when she was actually out in the world last.
“You ready?” I ask, since she’s just staring at the car, clutching the movie in her hands, unmoving.
She nods, but still doesn’t move.
So I wait.
And wait.
And wait.
Eventually she pushes out another breath, like she’s diving into a pool 50 feet beneath her, and drops into the passenger seat.
It’s not the overwhelming relief I’ve daydreamed about, but it’ll do.
I shut the door and go around to the driver’s seat. I glance over at her as I fire up the engine, putting the car in drive and making my way out of Mateo’s driveway. I feel like I should say something to her, assure her that everything will be all right, but she looks fragile, like one wrong word might completely disintegrate her composure.
So I say nothing.
The only person who vocalizes during the long ride is David Bowie, my constant companion. I hope it gives her some measure of comfort, even if she doesn’t acknowledge it.