Everywhere Everything

The room was spinning and I felt like I was going to be sick. The sunlight was shining through the cracks in the blinds directly in my face and it was pissing me off. My head was pounding, my mouth was dry and I felt like I could drink an obscene amount of water. I turned away from the sun and stared at a strange wall. It was a wall I had never seen before, and definitely not my hotel room.

It reminded me of my room back home. Wilco and Ryan Adams posters hung right above the bed, covering the dark blue walls. I followed the trail of posters that lined the walls and was freaked out. I think I had almost all of these posters. As kicked the sheets off of my legs, I found comfort in the same Star Wars print I had on my bed at home.

I placed my feet on the cold, hardwood floor, trying to push the realization of how bad I screwed up last night to the back of my mind. Puking on my idols deck was definitely the lowest my eighteen years had ever gotten. My mouth felt like a desert. I needed water.

I opened the door and almost stepped out when I noticed the ground was several feet below. I grasped on the door handle for dear life and regained my balance. I was in, what appeared to be, a tree house. A really nice, not very tree house-like tree house. I climbed down the ladder and tried to assess the unfamiliar surroundings.

I reached into my back pocket, deciding to just call a cab and put this whole situation behind me when I ran into a small problem: my phone was not in my back pocket. I didn't see it in the room, er, the tree house, and I wasn't about to climb back in there. The only other option was to walk into the strange house in front of me. I sighed and started trekking across the freshly cut yard.

"Just my luck," I muttered under my breath.

"Oh, you're awake!" a female voice called out to me. I looked around and finally saw a blonde older woman picking up a newspaper. She was gorgeous and I felt awkward because I had no idea who she was.

"Hi," I awkwardly waved, looking like a dear in the headlights.

"Come on inside, it's a little on the chilly side."

She, apparently, had never been to Seattle if she thought this was chilly. As soon as she opened the door, the smell of bacon hit me like a ton of bricks and I felt sick all over again. I walked into the kitchen and saw the spread of pancakes and fruit. It reminded me of my mom's installment yesterday and it pissed me off all over again.

"Are you hungry?" the older lady asked me, fixing me a glass of water. I had never been more thankful for a human being in my life.

"No, but thank you." I replied, practically snatching the glass of water out of her hand.

"Well, I wasn't expecting to see you so soon," she said, crossing her arms and leaning against the counter.

"I'm so sorry," I sighed. "I don't usually do things like this."

"Well. If I had a dollar for every time Gibbs has gotten an underage girl drunk, I would have exactly one dollar. You must be special."

"She is," a male voice said behind me. "The way she hurled on Austin's deck was classic."

"Oh god," I said, covering my face with my hands.

"Brayden, stop being a little asshole," the older lady said, which made me smile.

"Ma, come on. Gibbs deserves a little bad luck now and then. Nothing but good things happen to him."

"Go get ready for school."

"Why? Seniors don't have to go today. I am exempt from my English exam. I have an 'A' in that class."

"I don't care. You are not staying here all day."

"I can just go to Will's house. He got some new records."

"May I remind you that you are grounded?"

"Fine. I'll just stay in my room all day and listen to MY records. I'm eighteen! You can't make me go!"

"You could do that, if your father hadn't confiscated them last night. Also, if you steal his 'Love is Hell' vinyl one more time, he is going to kill you. I already said you are not staying in this house all day. You may be eighteen, but you still live under my roof. Go get ready."

"Mom, only losers go to school on optional days. I'll just go hang in the tree house."

"Don't make me ground you even longer," she seethed.

"Fine," he sighed. He looked at me and shook his head. "You owe me." With that, he turned on his heel and trudged back upstairs.

"School is still in session here? Our school ended two weeks ago."

"It's his last week. I just don't want him to sulk around the house anymore. His girlfriend of three years broke up with him a few days ago. I just want him to stay busy, you know?"

"Ouch."

"Nah. She was a slut," she shrugged. "I'm Julia, by the way."

"Carolina," I smiled. "Do you know why I owe him?" I asked, grabbing an orange slice off of a plate. Maybe I was hungry.

"He's grounded for picking you up last night."

"I'm really sorry, again." I sighed.

"He wouldn't' be grounded if he would have just told us where he was going."

I nodded and focused all of my attention on my orange slice.

"Your husband has 'Love is Hell' on vinyl?" I finally asked. She just laughed and plopped down next to me.

"So, know whose house you are going to today?"

"Oh shit, Gibbs forgot to give me my next envelope."

"No. He didn't," Brayden said, entering the room and slinging his backpack over his shoulder. "You were too drunk to even understand anything last night. He gave it to me to give to you today."

The sight of my mothers print on the envelope made me sigh. Even though I wanted to know everything about my father, this process was taking too long. I opened the envelope and looked at the name and the address.

"Oh god," Brayden laughed and motioned for Julia to see the name and address. Julia almost spat out her orange juice.

"What was Lena thinking?" Julia cackled. I was officially scared for my life.

/\\\/\\\/\\

"Oh my goodness!" was the greeting I got when a very old lady answered her door. Her sliver hair was cut short, and her bones had a little meat on them. She looked like the perfect grandmother.

"Come in, come in!" she ushered, placing her arm around my shoulder and leading me through the door. "You need to eat. All of you young people are far too skinny."

She was going a mile a minute and I was trying to keep up. "I'm Carolina," I stopped and introduce myself. She kept walking to the kitchen, throwing her hands up in the air. "I know, I know. Come eat!"

"I promise, I am not hungry. I had breakfast. My mom wrote your name on my card, but she called you 'Mama Santino.' Is that what I should call you?"

"Yes. That's what they all call me."

"So you're Nick's mom?" I asked, placing my bag on the end table.

She walked back into the room carrying a plate with a heaping pile of lasagna on it. She shoved it into my hands and sat down across from me.

'Yes. I am Nicholas's mom."

"Thank you," I said, motioning to the plate of lasagna. I took a bit to try not to seem rude, but it was the best food I had ever placed in my mouth.

"You're so beautiful! It's like Lena is sitting on my couch, you look so much like her," she took a deep breath and sighed. "Nick called me the other night and said you were here. You know, none of us knew when she would go. It was really hard to hear. I am sorry for your loss."

I smiled at her and tried too hard not to think about it. If there was anything I was good at, it was avoiding my feelings.

"I hope Nicholas was nice to you."

"Yes ma'am. He was very nice to me."

"Good. Raised him right," she smiled. "Looks like your mama raised you right as well. Have the rest of your visits gone well?"

"For the most part, they have." I smiled, hoping she wouldn't ask. She didn't.

"Brayden came over here the other day talking about you. He cuts my grass every week. Watch out for that one dear, he's a heartbreaker."

I chuckled and placed my now empty plate on the coffee table.

"I suppose you want your letter now, don't you?" she smiled, reaching for the envelope that was on a side table.

"I want to hear all about your life when you are finished!" she said, handing over the letter.

"Mama Santino," I called out just before she left the room. She stopped and focused her attention on me, looking as if she were about to cry. "Thank you." I said with a smile. She nodded and went into another room.

I slid the papers out of the envelope and read the first page.

My Sweet Carolina,

You only live once. Don't take this life for granted. This time is all the time you get.

I love you,

Mom.

The sun was still as hot, still as dry, still as harsh as it had been the first day my plane landed in Arizona. But today, it felt less like a hot, heavy dagger and more like a

rejuvenating burst of energy, hence the strolling. I felt relaxed for the first time, almost at home. I was, as I said, strolling down the street, on my way to meet Ben for lunch. This would be something like our tenth date. Yeah, it is a bit lame to keep track of dates but hey, I am lame. He was still as attractive, sweet, and as charmingly awkward as he had been the night I met him at the bar, so needless to say, he could also be a reason why I was a little happier to be out and about in 100 degree weather. This was totally the opposite of Seattle.

I rounded the corner onto Roosevelt, looking around at my rather brown

but still pretty surroundings. I had an address on my hand and I

squinted down at it, trying to find the place. I found it and stopped in front of what looked like a chain restaurant called 'Chipotle.' Having always been a little down on chain places in general, I climbed the steps warily and walked into the admittedly welcoming air conditioning.

"Lena!" a voice, almost too excited, called from the far corner of the place, "over here." I smiled and walked over to Ben, who I was almost positive was wearing a pair of black skinny jeans precisely for the reason that they did horrible things to me. I sat down next to him and looked expectantly around at what was looking cheesier and cheesier by the second. It was quite loud, and crowded, and while usually I didn't mind those two adjectives, it also had incredibly tacky tile art of what looked like Mayan gods on the wall.

Ben seemed to sense my disapproval. "So it's not the classiest place in the world, but let me tell you; you will never taste better food as long as you live." I looked at him in disbelief so he added, "I swear. Everyone in Arizona, and practically America loves this place. I know you've never tried it and I just thought I would bring some happiness to your life.." He looked surprisingly earnest so I grudgingly got in line with him. We were talking about the music scene, as per usual, when he looked around suddenly and told me, "I should probably order for you." I looked at him in surprise. "And how will you know what I want?"

"I know what's good. Also this place is confusing for a first-timer."

I crossed my eyes and tried to quiet my inner feminist, which was somewhat cursing in contempt for not being allowed to order. I was being dumb, obviously.

A few minutes later we were sitting back at the table with burritos the size of small children in front of us. He smiled at me, carefully picked his up, and dug in, looking surprisingly as though he were undergoing some sort of sexual experience. I hrugged, somehow brought mine to my mouth, and took a bite.

"Sweet mother Mary," I thought. This shit was good. I chewed in what I thought was a delicate, appealing way before diving in for another bite, and another, in some kind of cilantro and chicken haze, until I realized with slight embarrassment that I had eaten the entire thing.

Throughout this slight episode, I hadn't noticed Ben watching me with amazement and slight shock. When I wiped my mouth with as much decorum as I could muster and raised my eyes from my empty plate to look at him, he appeared impressed and more than a little amused.

"Okay. So. You were right," I said shamelessly, leaning back and trying my hardest not to pat my stomach in satisfaction.

"I told you!" he said, sitting up and smiling a gorgeous little grin. "It's the nectar of the gods."

"Why have I not gone here before?" I asked, playing with my much-abused napkin.

"I don't know man. You must just be really weird." Ben stood up, stretched, and picked up both our platters to bring them to the garbage can.

The rest of the day was just as entertaining as the beginning. He showed me around Phoenix more, the places not always gone to; record stores, little shops, and we went into an art gallery which had this massive M on the back wall. I was going to ask what it was but we didn't linger as apparently this was the 'sketchy' part of town when the sun went down.

We were walking down the street, just talking, when he reached for my hand, and I gladly gave it to him. I looked over and smiled, and he pulled me closer. It sounds surprising but there was even a little chill to the air as night drew in. Not much, just enough to make me glad Ben was there. I was going to ask where he was planning for us to go, or if he even had a plan, but I honestly didn't care. I was enjoying just learning about the city with a guy who I genuinely enjoyed. I hadn't noticed it in our very intimate first meeting, but he was seriously adorable, and sweet, and smarter than he looked. I really liked him.

However, although I might be a little biased, I think your father's better, but we will get to that next time. For now, just enjoy the company of Mama Santino and let her nurse your hangover. If you don't have one, then I overestimated Gibbs, although, I know I didn't.

I love you, baby girl.

"Mama Santino," I called, placing the letters in my backpack.

"Finished already?" she asked, wiping her hands on her pants.

"Tell me about this Ben character. If that's even his name."

"Oh lord. Your momma was head over heals for that one," she shook her head and sat down next to me. "He was a gentleman. Bit of a ladies man, though I never understood it. Everyone said he reminded them of Seth Cohen."

"Who?" I asked, confused.

"Seth Cohen. Oh, before your time," she laughed. "God, I am getting old."

"You can't be more than 45," I winked.

"Oh bless you child," she chuckled, pulling me close for a hug. "Anyway, there is nothing like a first love."

"So he was my mom's first love, not my dad?"

"Oh. You know those great love stories that change the course of history? Well I feel like that was your parents, and Ben is just the dud before your dad."

"My dad. Good old' Rusty."

"Pardon?"

"Rusty is my dad's code name and it bugs me. She doesn't trust me enough to tell me his real name. Not like I would know who he was anyways."

"Well if you mom came up with this, she had her reasons."

"How close were you guys?"

"We were exceptionally close. She was like a daughter to me. I hope you will be the same. If you marry Brayden, we'd practically be family."

I shook my head and let Mama Santino carry me back nineteen years with her stories and her memories.

I would definitely be back to see her before I left.