“I love my school,” I stated, “so I’m staying up that way.”
“Maybe come down for the summer? It’ll be great to have you here with me. What do you say?”
I paused a moment, leaving an uncomfortable silence. “Maybe.”
“Gary has a son around your age. He can show you around town,” she suggested, like this wasn’t some kind of a life-altering event.
“I usually spend the summer with Dad, so I have to ask him if he doesn’t mind,” I countered.
Dad hadn’t minded and a few days later, I was on the plane heading for my mom’s. Classes were over for the year, so I boarded the plane from San Francisco to upstate New York. I would be spending the summer there. I had always been a protective person and wanted to make sure my mother was doing the right thing. I had also always been a curious person, and I wondered what Gary was like. I sincerely hoped that his son, my soon-to-be stepbrother, wasn’t a total douche.
As the plane inched towards New York, I watched the sun stain the horizon with pink and blue. Now big puffy clouds decorated the perfectly blue sky.
I had my phone on airplane mode, so I had no access to the internet. Bored, I flipped through pictures on my phone. I looked at a few photos of myself, and though it was so vain, I knew I was beautiful. Even in this picture, with barely any makeup, the beauty of my pale skin and honey-brown eyes contrasted elegantly with my light red hair. I inherited my hair from my mother and my eyes from my father.
I scrolled through a few pictures of my dad and me. I had taken one when we were at a baseball game together, our faces framed with sunglasses and freckled from the sun. I frowned, remembering our conversation from a week before.
“Go to the east coast. See some new things. Meet some new people. You can always come here during the summer, and I can always visit. Your mother won’t mind having the extra help at her bed and breakfast,” my dad had urged.
“Are you sure?” I’d asked.
“Positive. Go have fun.”
I found some old pictures of my mom and me. I was a child, playing with toys in the office of the first bed and breakfast she’d opened. I had fond memories there. Meeting the exotic—at least to me—guests had always been a treat. My mother had been happy then, which had been nice. This was her passion, for sure. A passion which led her straight to Gary.
I looked through more pictures, searching for a photo of our last Halloween party. My best friend and roommate from college, Sarah, was by my side like she always was, holding the camera.
“Have a safe one out there. And don’t forget to call me if you need girl talk,” she’d said, giving me a hug before I left.
“I will be in touch with you a lot. I’ll need to talk to someone about all this new and random craziness,” I’d told her, grabbing my luggage.
I met Sarah my freshman year. I would begin my junior year after this summer, and we were as close as ever. She was a girly girl, with cherry-blonde hair and clear, green eyes. She played soccer, and though my mother had invited her for the summer, she couldn’t come to New York because she had soccer camp in preparation for the next season.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re making our final descent into JFK airport. Please make sure your seatbelts are fastened,” I heard the intercom blare.
Thank goodness. The fight had taken forever, or maybe I was just so anxious to see what my mother’s new life was like.
The airplane landed, and I followed the rest of the groggy passengers out of the plane. I turned my phone off airplane mode, and it began to vibrate almost immediately. I received several texts from friends, some notifications from social media, and a new number had called my phone several times. Puzzled, I dialed it. It rang for a moment, and then a deep voice answered.
“Amy?” he asked.
“Uh, yeah. Speaking. Who is this?” I questioned, skeptical.
He chuckled in an equally deep voice. “It’s Ashton, Gary’s son. I thought your mom gave you my number.”
Come to think of it, she had texted it to me. Shit. “Yeah. Sorry. I just landed,” I said, embarrassed.
“It’s all right. I hear people from San Fran are a tad airheaded,” he replied.
“Excuse me?” I blurted in disbelief, my face red with embarrassment.
Before I could argue, he said, “I’m at the entrance to the east gate. I’m holding a sign that says ‘Amy.’ Find me there.”