Page 11 of Lost and Found

Dani

Ipause at the front door of the house that's been my home for the past four days and pull in a deep breath. Four days and I already dread walking into this place. It's a sprawling two-story mansion with enough space for a family of fifteen, and it still feels tiny when my sisters and I are all home.

Even though it's new construction built with all the finest materials and the latest technology, it feels haunted by my dead father and his plans for me and my sisters.

It makes me feel so icky, in fact, I'd rather be back in the woods arguing with Ranger. I can count on one hand the number of people I hate, but that guy could definitely make the list given time and opportunity.

I put my hand on the knob and step inside to blissful silence. I let out the breath I'd been holding and shut the door behind me.

"For God's sake, Honey," Goldy says in her calm, rational voice. "There's a schedule on the wall. Right here." There's a thump, probably from Goldy smacking the wall for emphasis. I don't think it's from Goldy thumping Honey. Hopefully, we've all grown out of the violence of our youths and Goldy, as the oldest, was always the least likely to hit.

I glance at the door and consider going back to the woods until they leave, but I need a shower and breakfast. I'm going into town today and I'm leaving my resume with every potential employer I can find. It's time I accept I'm never getting my old life back and move on with this new one.

"My stomach doesn't operate on a schedule, Goldenrod," Honey's voice and tone are as sweet as her name, which means she's good and pissed. As the youngest, Honey learned superior deflection tactics from an early age. "Is it really such a hardship to have me in the kitchen toasting a bagel at the same time as you?"

I glance down the hall toward the wing of the house where my bed and bathroom are, but my stomach rumbles. I need food more than I need to avoid my sisters this morning.

"If all you were doing was toasting a bagel, it wouldn't be a problem," Goldy says as I walk through our living room, weaving between the four couches. Each of us brought our own furniture when we moved in and, since none of us are planning to stay here longer than a year, the couches are staying. "You using the last of the soy milk for your coffee is the problem. Especially when I'm the one who bought the milk."

"Have my coffee, then."

"With the fifteen tablespoons of sugar you put in? No thanks."

I step into the kitchen to see Honey, her long, black hair in two braids, sitting at the kitchen island, calmly sipping from a mug while Goldy stands on the other side of the island holding up the carton of soy milk.

They turn to me, Goldy's lips pursing like a fish out of water, and Honey's ivory cheeks pinking, the stud in her nose twinkling in the kitchen light.

"Sweetheart." Honey leaps from her seat in one lithe, fluid movement, her delicate limbs almost doll-like, and rushes over to me. "I'm so sorry. Where did you go?"

"It's fine." I wave a hand for emphasis. Easy, breezy, not traumatized by a minor argument. That's me. "I hiked up the mountain and slept at a campsite."

"You slept outside?" Goldy presses a hand to her chest, her eyes going wide, her voice as distressed as if I'd told her I'd taken on six different opponents at an all-night fight club. She's already dressed in a button-down blouse, her straight platinum blond hair in a tidy bun, her face made-up, even though she works from home and, as far as I can tell, has had zero video calls.

She's an assistant to several business owners, including my cousin, Brittany Oakley, who's opening a preschool in Catalpa Creek.

"It's okay, Goldy. I've already checked myself for ticks and pulled all the leaves out of my hair. Nature is staying outside."

"I'm not worried about the nature, Dandelion. I'm worried that our argument upset you so much you felt you had to leave the house and stay out all night."

I'm still embarrassed about my reaction to the sister brawl that erupted last night. I don't know what it was about and I don't want to know. I'd gone to bed early and lay there listening to my sisters scream at each other.

It took me back to my childhood when I'd lived with constant tension and the horror of the two people I loved most in the world trying to destroy each other with words and petty slights.

My parents' fights had been epic and terrifying. The middle child in a family of five daughters, I'd always been the least able to handle their arguments.

My sisters' argument last night made my skin itch, made me feel like the walls and ceiling of my room were closing in and I couldn't remember how to breathe. And then I remembered that I'm an adult now and I don't have to stay in a situation that makes me uncomfortable.

Except, I'm also dead broke and can't afford a hotel room.

"I overreacted." I walk to the fridge, open the door, and stick my face in so they can't see how red my cheeks are or the tears of embarrassment in my eyes. "Really. I'm fine."

"You always hated it when Mom and Dad fought," Honey says in a low voice.

"We all hated it," Goldy says. "But I do remember Dandelion trying to live in the play set out back so she wouldn't have to hear them."

I grab a yogurt Clover bought for me. She hasn't asked about my financial situation, but she makes sure to tell me she got food for the 'whole house' every time she comes home from the grocery store.

I pull a spoon from the silverware drawer and sit at the island next to Honey.