Page 15 of Rootbound
Nine
Tait
Once I get inside the cabin, I immediately set to unpacking. When I turned thirteen, my mother gifted me withThe 7 Habits of Highly Effective Teens.I know, I know, very moving stuff—just what every thirteen-year-old dreams of. I only ever skimmed over it, but I memorized the main ideas in case she ever prompted me. “Do First Things, First” has been my go-to life hack since.
Which is why I immediately set to settling and getting familiar with my surroundings. Having spatial awareness, first, is what grounds me. Once I unpack my equipment, clothes, and toiletries, I decide to rearrange the living room area a bit to better highlight the giant steel and glass doors that look back out over the pond. The way the furniture currently sits, it leaves a gaping area in the middle of the room.
Space is great, but not empty or unusable space…
Deflecting again.
It’s ahabit I’ve accrued, fitting myself into a space and immediately making it my own. I try to find the best in it, highlight the good and the beautiful. It’s something I absolutely cannot do here, though. I cannot ignore the hurt that this family has caused by their apathy, simply because it feels nice and looks better that way right now. After all, you can hide all the wires in some cute aesthetic way, throw them in some well-fitting basket, but if you unplug them altogether, things are no longer functional.
A wave of reality balloons its way through me and I have to sit down. I feel like I’ve been watching my life over the last twenty-four hours from underwater—clear enough to make out the shape of what’s going on, but not exactly cognizant, either.
As soon as I exited the truck, I thought my legs were going to buckle beneath me. Luckily, that feeling was immediately replaced by annoyance when Henry abandoned me to face everyone alone. I’d expected his looming presence to help give me a reason to hurry off to wherever my place was and get set up. I had no idea they’d lend me my own vehicle. Plus, he’d been privy to my sweaty hands and anxiety, so I’d hoped he’d stay and be my buffer.
The exchange replays in my mind…
A gangly boy—probably as tall as Henry but half his body weight—gives me an emphatic, whole-body wave, taking the porch steps in two strides before he envelopes me in a bear hug… or, more like what I would imagine a giraffe hug would feel like. Grace meets me with, well, grace… har har.
I don’t blame her for my mother and father’s split, just like I don’t blame “the other woman” entirely for mine. It always takes two, and we’re all adults who don’t require anything of oneanother at this point, other than mutual respect. But, she offers a warm and kind smile, eyes glossy.
“It is so great to finally meet you,” the boy says. You have no idea how long we have wanted this. As soon as I found out I had sisters out there. Tell me everything about California. Do you know how to surf? I’m kidding, I’m sorry. The production crew is normally here regaling me with tales of the Golden State, but it’s off-season and I’m bored of all these same faces. You are beautiful, by the way. OH! I’m Grady!” Grady says without a breath.
“Th-thank you. It is really nice to meet you, too. I’m Tait. I’m really looking forward to photographing this place.”
“We are really grateful that you’re here,” Grace says softly.
Grateful? That catches me off guard. I should’ve said I’m grateful for the opportunity to work here. I didn’t do anything for any one of them by coming here, so whygrateful?
“Grady, let’s get Tait a truck and let her go get settled,” Grace says, eyes staying on me.
Grady leaps back up the steps in about one-and-a-half strides this time and heads inside. Grace keeps me under her gaze, assessing. She’s very pretty, kindness exuding from her and Grady both. The smile lines all around her eyes and bracketing her mouth are deep, her chestnut hair corkscrew-curly. The furthest thing from the dark, icy beauty that my mother possessed.
“Charlie’s up on the ridge today. He didn’t know you were coming, otherwise I can promise you, he would be here himself. He’s going to be so happy to see you, and so happy you decided to surprise him.”
I feel my face smile awkwardly, so I look down at my feet. She’s being perfectly polite, not pushy, and clearly wants to welcome me… I manage to say “Thank you,” stiffly.
Just then, Grady emerges with the keys. I hold up myhand, desperate for him to understand, and—oh thank God he gets it—he tosses them promptly.
“The fleet trucks are in the stone building over there. If you stay on this road, you’ll come to a pond with two cabins; yours is the second,” he shouts to my retreating form.
It’s then that I notice that a secondary stone barn structure has been built out behind the main house. The driveway has been continued on over to it. It matches the original barn almost exactly, but since I know the original one to be the stables, I figure that the other must be the garage.
I march in the direction of the barn, clicking the button to find out which truck is mine, get in, and do my best not to peel out.
It’s not until later that I realize that I didn’t manage a goodbye, or even a brief chat about my outline for the photography. I only knew that I needed to catch my breath and get back into my own space.
So now, here I am. Sitting on the leather couch, looking out the giant steel sliding doors at the pond, attempting to catch that breath still, when…
“I’M… COMING… OUT! I’M COMIIING OUT!!!”
“I’M… COMING… OUT! I’M COMIIIING OUT!!!”
… plays from somewhere around me. I briefly wonder if this is the beginning of the psychotic break/aka shit-splosion Ava promised I was headed for before I hear aknock, knock,and a female voice shouts, “Sorry!!! I forgot about the doorbell! I know it can be jarring.”
Still in shock, I rise rigidly and open the door… only to stare into a face that looks almost identical to mine, but in, like, fifteen years.