Lock and Key(118)

At least, that was the final thesis of my English project, which I’d handed in during the last week of classes. We’d each had to get up in front of the class and do a presentation that showcased our research and findings, and for mine, I’d brought in two pictures. The first was of Jamie’s extended tribe, which I put up while I explained about the different definitions I’d gathered, and how they all related to one another. The second was more recent, from the eighteenth birthday party Cora had thrown me at the end of May. I’d told her not to make a fuss, but of course she’d ignored me, insisting that we had to do something, and that I should invite anyone I wanted to celebrate with me.

In the picture, we’re all posing by the pond, one big group. I’m in the center, with Cora on one side, Olivia on the other. You can see Jamie, slightly blurred from running back into the shot after setting the timer on the camera— he’s standing by Harriet, who is looking at me and smiling, and Reggie, who is of course looking at her. Next to them you can see Laney, smiling big, and then Gervais, the only one eating, a plate of cake in his hand. Like the first one, which I’d studied all these months, it is not a perfect picture, not even close. But in that moment, it was exactly what it was supposed to be.

It was also, like the one of Jamie’s family, already changing, even if that day we hadn’t known it yet. That came a couple of weeks later, when I was leaving for school one morning and found my sister sitting on her bed, crying.

“Cora?” I dropped my backpack, then came over to sit beside her. “What’s wrong?”

She drew in a big, shuddering breath, shaking her head, clearly unable to answer. By then, though, I didn’t need her to; I’d already seen the pregnancy-test box on the bedside table. “Oh, Cora,” I said. “It’s okay.”

“I—I—” she said, sobbing through the words.

“What’s going on?” Jamie, who had just come up the stairs, said as he came into the room. I nodded at the test box, and his face fell. “Oh,” he said, taking a seat on her other side. “Honey. It’s all right. We’ve got that appointment next week—we’ll see what’s going on—”

“I’m fine,” Cora sputtered as I grabbed her some tissues. “I really am.”

I reached over, taking her hand so I could put the tissues into it. She was still holding the test stick, so I took it from her as she drew in another breath. It wasn’t until after I put it down on the bed beside me that I actually looked at it.

“Are you, though? ” Jamie was saying, rubbing her shoulders. “Are you sure?”

I stared at the stick again, double-checking it. Then tripling. “Yeah,” I said, holding it up, the plus sign more than clear as Cora dissolved in tears again. “She’s positive.”

She was also sick as a dog, morning and night, as well as so tired she couldn’t stay up much past dinner. Not that I’d heard her complain, even once.

All of this had got me thinking, and a few days before my birthday, I’d sat down at my desk to write a letter, long overdue, to my own mother, who was still in rehab in Tennessee. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say, though, and after sitting there for a full hour, with nothing coming, I’d just photocopied my acceptance letter from the U and slid it inside the envelope. It wasn’t closure, by any means, but it was progress. If nothing else, now we knew where to find each other, even if only time would tell if either of us would ever come looking.

“Got it! Let’s go!” I heard Jamie yell from inside. Roscoe perked up his ears, and I watched him run, tags jingling, across the grass to the house.

It was only then, when I knew I was alone, at least for the moment, that I reached under my gown into the pocket of my dress. As I pulled out my key from the yellow house, which I’d kept on my bureau since the day Nate left, I traced the shape one last time before folding my hand tightly around it.

Behind me, Cora was calling again. My family was waiting. Looking down at the pond, all I could think was that it is an incredible thing, how a whole world can rise from what seems like nothing at all. I stepped closer to the edge, keeping my eyes on my reflection as I dropped the key into the water, where it landed with a splash. At first, the fish darted away, but as it began to sink they circled back, gathering around. Together, they followed it down, down, until it was gone.