Page 21 of Coastal Rewind

“Tell me about it,” I mumbled.

“Come to my dad’s on Sunday for dinner. She’ll be there. I can’t promise she’ll say yes, but it doesn’t hurt to ask.”

“You think there’s a chance?” My tone was hopeful, which was dangerous for me. I tried not to hope for anything since most of the time it blew up in my face.

“With Ryleigh there’s always a chance. She shows up for people she cares about.” He winked and pushed off the railing.

nine

Ryleigh

I walked out onto the back deck at my dad’s house and sat on a lounge chair in front of the pool. I tucked my legs up to my chest and hugged them before resting my chin on my knee.

As much as I loved traveling and seeing the world, these past two weeks had been nice. Spending time with my siblings; getting a more detailed glimpse into their daily lives. It felt so…normal.

That concept was hard for my brain to process.

I squeezed my eyes shut and begged the universe to rewind the clock. Back to before. When I still had hopes and dreams. When I didn’t suffer from the constant fear that I would die having barely lived. Rewind back to when my mom was alive. Back to when we all lived in one loud, chaotic house.

“Hey.”

I wiped the tear off my face and glanced up to see Owen standing in front of the french doors that led into the house.

“How’d you know I was crying?” I asked, rolling my eyes.

“I could sense it.” He tapped his temple twice with a smirk.

Owen and I had always had that weird twin telepathy thing going on. Growing up, we couldn’t have been more opposite. He was popular and cool while I hung out in nature and wrote poems. Most of the time he got made fun of for his weird sister, but at the end of the day he was my best friend.

“So, what’s going on?” He sat down next to me on an open lounge chair and propped his feet up, tilting his face to the sky.

I shrugged. “Nothing, just thinking about leaving.”

“You don’t have to, you know. You could stay. Do photography. Have a life here.”

I glanced over to Owen but I couldn’t see his eyes through his sunglasses. “You know why I can’t do that,” I whispered.

“I know why you think you can’t do that, but did you ever pause to think it’s time to stop running?” Owen lolled his head over to me.

“I’m not running.” My tone was defensive. “I’m simply living life how Mom told me to.”

“Mom never said live in a moving house and never make a single meaningful connection.”

He was right. I knew he was right, but I still couldn’t bring myself to stay. When I thought about putting down roots, the sadness crept in. The idea that I would watch everyone grow old with their families and I’d be alone.

“What’s the point?” I asked, blowing a loose hair out of my face.

“The point, my dear sister, is that you can meet a nice man and be happy. I know you. You’re not happy in constant solitude.”

“No man wants a woman who is broken.” My voice was so low I wasn’t sure he heard me, until he sat up and pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head. His eyes were glued to mine and they looked pained.

“You’re not broken.”

“I am.”

“Ry, we can talk to more doctors. Modern medicine is a lot better than it was twenty-three years ago. You’re not her.”

Owen was the only person who knew my secret besides our dad. A few years ago, Owen came out to visit me when I was in Colorado working at a resort. We were watching the sunrise on the top of a mountain with a bottle of bourbon. The beauty of the sun peaking over the snow-capped mountains was too much and I had burst into tears.