"We're going to order a pizza. Come up and join us," my father said.
I thought about all the food from the funeral and realized the thought of it turned my stomach as well. I had hardly eaten all day and pizza sounded good. Even though all my father's invitations sounded like orders.
"I'll be up in a minute." I turned to Owen and whispered. "Wait a couple of minutes and go out the kitchen door."
He smiled and patted my leg. "Don't worry. I've done this before."
In the kitchen, my stomach was still fluttering with excitement. I felt as if my brain had no control over my emotions anymore and I swung from one feeling to the next without thought. Sienna was gone, I was still reeling in shock, and yet Owen felt the same. About everything. All those years of longing and the feelings might not have been unrequited. I clung to that joyful thought.
"Oh, there you are, darling. I ordered the pizza with the sun-dried tomatoes. Just like you like," my mother said.
"That was Sienna," I said.
"Oh, yes, sorry. I forgot you were home," my mother said. She poured a glass of white wine. "There's a special on the bridges of Paris, your father t
hought you might want to watch it while we eat. The pizza should be ready any minute."
"That was Sienna, too," I said. "You start without me and I'll go pick up the pizza."
Sienna loved Paris. It was her daydream city. Whenever she was feeling sad or pressured or stressed, she made imaginary plans to go to Paris.
"It feels good to think about leaving it all behind and going somewhere I've always longed to go," Sienna had explained. "Where would you go? And you can't say Paris."
"Las Vegas," I had told her.
"We live in Las Vegas."
"The Strip. All the lights, all the people from other places," I had tried to explain.
"All the flashing screens and video games?" Sienna had cocked an eyebrow at me. "You sound just like Owen. He's always wanting to go there. I mean, it’s fun once or twice, but I'm not into playing video games on wall-sized screens or whatever it is you two like to do."
I fought the overwhelming urge to get in the car and drive the 15 minutes to the Strip. People who lived in and around Las Vegas generally avoided that area like the plague. To me, it had a comforting aspect – like a part of my imagination come to life. And it did not hurt that no one there knew me or Sienna or what had happened.
#
"If you're ready now, we can take the long way into town. I know you love that drive," my father said. He strolled into the kitchen, checking his watch.
"That was Sienna," I said. "Sienna liked to take the long way because she had a dream house picked out on top of the hill."
Summerlin was a relatively small community, so the long way was actually just a tour of the neighborhoods. The houses were impressive and it was fun to drive at night and peek into other people's lives.
The pizza place we liked was only a few minutes away, but Sienna and my father were sometimes gone for nearly 45 minutes. They drove around and plotted her perfect future. She wanted to be surgeon at one of the exclusive private hospitals in Las Vegas where she could treat rich people from all over the world without leaving her hometown. My father had even taken on clients from those hospitals to make sure Sienna would have the contacts she needed.
My father stopped and his watch arm dropped. He just stood in the corner of the kitchen and stared at the floor. "Well, the pizza will be ready soon. We should leave in about 15 minutes."
He shuffled back towards the front room as I leaned on the counter. I clung to Sienna's idea of a daydream city. It was easy to picture Las Vegas. I always started with the Paris Casino, the faux Eiffel Tower was something I often teased Sienna about. From there, I pictured the Bellagio's dancing fountains and the Luxor's sleek black lines. I also loved the roller coaster facade of New York, New York and the white columns of Caesar's Palace.
I focused in on the arcade at the MGM Grand. Beyond the normal kid games, they had interactive and full-sized gaming consoles where you could actually feel like you were inside the game. I wanted to step inside one and let everything else fade away.
Still, my daydream was not holding. Sienna was right. Tonight, Las Vegas was not far enough away and I had 15 minutes to escape. I put my head on my arms as I leaned on the counter and tried again.
This time my daydream city was a foreign land. Dark plains that held pockets of fog, black granite cliffs that jutted up before shadowy mountains, dim forest glens and silent stands of towering pine trees.
I had enough time to at least cue up Dark Flag and take a look around. I headed downstairs to the basement. There, I brushed aside the items Owen had returned and settled in on the worn leather sofa. Our wide screen television buzzed to life on the home screen of the video game and I quickly booted up my character.
Dark Flag was the perfect daydream city. Sienna would have scoffed at it, but it made sense to me. She planned trips to Paris in her head, I was jumping into the virtual rendering of the place I wanted to escape to. The game started with a dark screen full of black thunderclouds. Lightning flashed across the screen and the surrounded sound exploded. The game then dropped you through the thunderstorm and deposited you on the starting grid, a rainy road outside the walls of a looming city.
I thought for a moment about entering the city walls. It was easy to wander around there and people watch. The multi-player online game attracted millions of people from around the globe. Walking through the virtual city was what a lot of new players did. It was a chance to see what other people had done with their avatars. You could also purchase weapons, charms, and spells, instead of earning them in the field. Or you could head to one of the many taverns and interact with other avatars, as Owen had explained.