Page 26 of Karma's a Beach
I moved away, and I rarely come to visit. What was I expecting?
Oh, that’s right. I was expecting to trust my friends when they told me this was a girls’ trip.
“Say something, Liv,” Roxie urges. “I can tell you’ve got an entire dialogue going in your head. Are you okay?”
No. No, I want to scream at them, but what good would that do? I’d come off sounding like an ungrateful, crazy person.
“I just wish you all would have been honest with me, that’s all,” I say carefully. “I don’t appreciate the ambush.”
They at least have the decency to look guilty.
“You’re right; we should have,” Loren agrees. “But…you’re a flight risk, Liv. We wanted to do everything possible to get you here. And be honest. If you knew the guys were joining us, would you have come?”
No.
“We’ll never know now, will we?” I say instead.
“Liv, we all know you wouldn’t have. But this is going to be fun, I swear,” Vanessa says in earnest. “You’ll see. It’s going to be great. It’s going to be just like old times. Remember when we came here on prom weekend? That was one of the greatest weekends ever!”
It was, but I’m not ready to give in yet. I still have a little mad left in me, and even though I’m being a brat, I feel like I’m entitled.
“We’re not kids anymore. We all keep saying that,” I remind them. “Besides, you can’t go back. We’re not those people, Matt’s gone, and…I just don’t know how I’m going to write with so many people around!”
Bratty McBitchy, party of one!
“We promise to give you time to write. The fifth bedroom is now an office, so you can set up in there to work,” Van assures me. “It was always such a tiny room and barely fit a single bed, so my dad turned it into an office. It means one less bed, but no one’s missed it.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say that I do—especially since it means I’m now sharing a room with Roxie and the dogs—but I keep it to myself. The three of them are looking at me expectantly, and I hate that I’m the problem. I’m the one causing them all to hold their breath while they wait to make sure I’m okay.
I guess this is why I don’t come home more. In the last three days, I’ve seen a version of myself that I don’t like. I’m whiny and pitiful and emotional, and that’s never been me. And now that a metaphorical mirror has been shoved in front of me, I don’t like what I see.
So, starting now, it’s time to reach deep down and find the old me—the Olivia who was last at this house on prom weekend, and maybe the one who hopped on a plane and flew west so I could fully immerse myself in the stories I was going to write. I need to treat this trip not like I’m only here because of a funeral, but like I’m coming back to celebrate life with my friends.
All our lives.
Even the guys who I still feel are crashing this trip.
Smiling brightly, I ask, “Are we just going to stand out here all day, or are we going inside?”
The relief is palpable as I’m embraced in a fierce group hug before we release each other and start grabbing our luggage. When I turn and fully face the house, I’m overwhelmed. It’s a bit of a monstrosity that looks like a normal beach house was divided down the middle and a smaller section was inserted. At one time, I’m sure it looked modern, but right now it just looks odd.
The ground level is nothing but a split garage—one on each side of the house—with storage space in the middle. This means we have to walk up a divided set of stairs to the second level to get to the front door.
“Are your folks going to put in an elevator when they do the renovations?” Loren asks, because we’re all thinking about it as we lug our oversized luggage up the stairs.
“That’s the plan!” Vanessa cheerily replies. “I know this part sucks, but once everything’s inside, we don’t have to do this again. Our groceries will be delivered and they’ll bring it all to the door for us!”
We all sort of stumble through the door and I’m blinded by the view.
Literally.
The entire back wall of the house is glass, the floors are off white, and the furniture is all white. I imagine we’ll all be wearing sunglasses in the house during the day because it’s all so bright.
“We’re here!” Vanessa cries out, her voice echoing in the two-story entryway. “I can’t believe we’re finally here!” Then she’s hugging us again. “It’s official. Our vacation starts now!”
We all sort of scatter a bit to look around, and they weren’t kidding. Everything looks exactly the same as it did when I was last here. It’s a little like stepping back in time.
Which I suppose works with my whole going-back-to-the-old-me thing.
