Anchor

“I can’t wait to get out of here,” I mumbled, nimbly plucking the petals of some small white flower. “I want to go to the Savanna; I want to go to the Jungle; I want to go to college.”

Caleb softly smiled and turned his head towards me. It had been three weeks since that party and eighteen days since we’ve started dating. We spent most of our days like this, lying around in the grass or hanging around his dad’s bakery. It wasn’t much but every second of it I had a smile tugging on my lips.

I quickly tossed my flower away and turned to face him. That was when he said, “With all that traveling, I bet you’ll miss Mays landing a lot.”

Shaking my head, I said, “No, I’ll be too busy with school and research. Did I tell you? A professor decided to take me on as an assistant in his lab.”

“Well, there has to be something you’ll miss about Mays Landing. You’ve lived here all your life.”

I laid there for a while, thinking. “I’ll miss your dad’s blueberry lemon Danishes, Carrie, the stars, I heard you can’t see them at Yale, and…”

“And…,” Caleb repeated.

I looked at Caleb. From my view, he was the center of everything. The dark sky sprinkled with stars was above his shining, brown hair, the green dewy grass laid below his scuffed up shoes. On his right was the town where we lived and to the left was the highway, flowing away.

I sat up and said, “And you. You’re Mays Landing for me, so I guess I’ll miss it every second of the day.”

Home has always been a sore place for me. It was where I spent my high school days hidden in books; it was where I was stuck behind windows looking out on friends; and it was where I was broken by a certain baker named Caleb. Maybe that’s why I’ve been so reluctant to go back. In the four years since I’ve left for college, I’ve never returned to May’s Landing, not for Easter break, not for summer break, nor Christmas. I managed to find excuse after excuse and only if I had one for now.

My stomach began to churn as the cab pulled up to my parents’ house. I looked outside and there was the cozy cream colored house covered in heavy blanket of snow. Long, frigid icicles rimmed the roof of weathered red tile; lush, green pine trees lined the white covered yard; and the scent of butter wafted through the air. I was really back home.

After paying the cabbie, I pulled my suitcase through the thick snow until I reached the doorstep. I stood there for a while, unsure of what to do. The key I used many years ago sat deep in my pocket but did I have the right to use it? I don’t live here anymore; I was just a guest, so should I use the door bell? Pressing the doorbell once and then twice, I realized that no one was home. My mom had cat like reflexes and I remembered how she’d always drop everything and leap to open the door by the second bell. If she were home, I’d already be warm and comfortable inside. Sighing, I pulled out my key and scuffled into the house.

Rubbing my hands to get warm, I glanced around to take in my old surroundings. The foyer’s white walls were yellowed, the dull hardwood floors squeaked, and a layer of dust covered the front table; it was exactly how I remembered. It seemed like not a day has passed since I’d left. My dad was still stubborn about getting a new coat of paint; my mom still believed that a little dust was good for you; my parents were still too cheap to replace the floor; and like always, there were books and papers scattered about. Both of my parents were physics professors at the local college who always insisted on bringing their work home. Stepping over a ragged copy of A Brief History of Time, I walked up the rickety stairs to my childhood room.

It was bare. Besides a small twin sized bed in the corner and a wooden desk in the other, it was stripped of any personal effect. My books were gone and my posters were taken down. I just pulled up my suitcase and pushed it under the bed. I was only staying for a couple weeks so unpacking was useless.

“LILLY”

I jumped at sound of my name.

“LILLY”

I walked towards the window to see Carrie. She was standing in her backyard, waving around a red mitten and yelling my name. I pointed towards my front door and ran downstairs.

“LILLY,” Carrie cheered, engulfing me in a giant hug. “I can’t believe you’re home.”

“It’s nice to see you too,” I mumbled into her pink knit hat. After for what seemed like hours, Carrie released me. I looked her up and down. She was still the bubbly fashionista I knew but something seemed off. Carrie’s stomach was no longer flat but round and curved. The rest of her body was still skinny, though.

“Are you pregnant?”

Carrie nodded cheerfully, “It’s Kevin’s. We’re getting married in two weeks.”

I stood back, stunned. Throughout high school, Carrie was my best friend, my only friend. I remembered how she’d always call me at midnight to talk about her dates with Kevin or how she’d ask if her outfit was good all the way from her bedroom next door. We use to be in constant contact. How did I not know she was engaged and pregnant?

“I wanted to tell you earlier but I didn’t know where to call. You know? With you always traveling for school and research.” Carrie softly said, taking off her hat.

I faked a smile. “It’s okay. I’ve been on Bioko Island studying Drills and phone service is iffy there.”

“Look at Miss. Smarty-pants, studying monkeys in Africa. I can’t believe you’re back home. Now I have three bridesmaids.”

“Bridesmaid?” I asked.

“Don’t worry,” Carrie said, taking a seat in the living room. “This baby bump is gonna attract enough looks so I’m not gonna make you guys look ugly.”

I chuckled, “How far along are you?”

“I’m three months. I found out when Kevin started med school. You should have seen him when I told him. He was so excited, he fainted. He almost missed his first class.” I watched Carrie sitting there. Her wide smile was relaxed; her eyelids were low; and her head was leaning into the seat cushion. She looked so peaceful. She was probably reminiscing about her fiancé.

“Oh, I forgot,” Carrie suddenly said. “I have a dress fitting.”

She immediately hoisted herself out of the chair and headed towards the door. “Wedding planning is such a chore. I have a dress fitting now.”

I followed her to the door.

“We have to meet again. How about you come to the annual class reunion tomorrow? Everyone from high school will be there.”

Annual class reunion? I thought high school class reunions were every decade.

“Um…Yeah. I’ll come,” I hesitantly said.

Carrie smile, “Good. Now you’ll get to see everyone again.”