Mother sighed as father and his friends crammed the last load of boxes into the rental truck, “We shouldn’t have to move away from our home.”
Father stepped forward to wrap a dusty arm around her, embracing empty air as she stepped away. “Honey, we’ll make the new place home. Wherever we are with our girls will be perfect.”
She looked toward us, our hands linked together and ready for adventure. Her eyes rested fondly on me for a moment before settling on Maggie with adoration. She reached out to help Maggie into the car as father offered me his hand.
“I guess anything is worth it if we can still keep them happy.”
I smiled up at her reassuringly as we rounded the car. She didn’t see it. She rarely noticed much about me unless someone else pointed it out to her or I stepped into Maggie’s spotlight. Lately, the move had taken over her every waking hour. I was used to feeling overlooked but hoped our new home would magically bring me back from the brink of invisibility.
The apartment had three bedrooms. Our parents got the slightly larger master bedroom with tiny en suite bathroom. Dad would use one of the others as his home office. Maggie and I chose which one we would share. It had soft green carpeting like a dense layer of moss on the forest floor. When confessed the reason for our choice it, father offered to paint the walls blue like the sky. Mother vied for pink, but Maggie won her over in the end.
As father started the car, mother turned toward us, “Say goodbye to the old house.”
“Goodbye,” we repeated obediently.
Father’s friend who was driving the truck waved back and tooted the big truck’s horn. Then we pulled away from the curb. My sister and I joined father in looking ahead toward what was coming. But mother watched the house until it disappeared from view. Then she blotted her eyes and turned on the radio. Father glanced at her as if he wanted to ask something, but she shook her head. As Maggie and I felt too excited to speak, the radio provided the soundtrack for our arrival at our new home.
—-
Mother sighed again. It became her signature sound that year. She never actually complained, just sighed heavily to remind us all that her life had fallen apart.
“Livvie, please,” father whispered as he tilted his head back toward us and raised his voice, “Yay! We’re here!”
“Here!” Maggie parroted excitedly, squirming to get free.
“We’re here!” I joined the chorus.
Our parents hopped out to release us and we all looked back toward the main street, waiting for the truck full of our worldly possessions which had been deemed worthy and able to fit into our new home. Mother held Maggie close to her heart while Father restrained me with one arm. The other hand blocked the sun from his eyes as he peered anxiously into the distance. We were rewarded as the large yellow truck turned the corner and pulled into two spaces near us with unnecessary grinding of the brakes. I cringed. Maggie covered her ears and started wailing.
“It stopped, honey, it stopped.” Mother whispered over and over until the cries faded into dull whimpers.
“Sorry,” the driver contorted his face apologetically as he leaned in to reassure my sister, “It’s okay, I’m just not used to the brakes on this beast. Probably best I only have to drive it back to the depot after this, huh?”
He mugged another face for her benefit and she forgot her fear enough to laugh with him.
“That’s what I like to see. A happy little girl who gets to sleep in her new bedroom tonight, surrounded by all her familiar stuff, eh?”
“Stuff!”
I still wonder if Maggie meant to express understanding or if she liked to repeat words that sounded fun to her at that age. Her vocabulary has improved greatly between then and now.
“Let’s get the girls’ room setup, so they can play while we work,” Uncle Bert suggested as he hopped down from the passenger side of the truck.
Mother lowered Maggie to the ground, “Take your sister’s hand.”
She didn’t need to ask us twice. We gravitated toward each other and clasped hands. We huddled close to the side of the car to watch her grab her bag and put it over her shoulder. Then she started digging around in there, which excited Maggie. She started dancing in place.
“Candy?”
“Not now, honey, I need to find the keys,” Mother gave an exclamation of success as she pulled her hand out of the bag with them jingling at the end of a large plastic house that flopped in her hand.
She rolled her eyes at the ridiculously large “gift” from the realtor and reached out her free hand. I took it and followed obediently, holding tightly to Maggie as we cut across the parking lot. Father and his friends’ voices faded as we neared the large brick building. The facade had been recently updated to reflect a distinguished charm, but it was lost on the eyes of those disappointed in their lot in life and on small children who are more interested in claiming their new home in whatever creative way strikes their fancy.
We let my mother into our plans almost as soon as she opened the door. Without letting go or exchanging a single word, we raced across the barren living room toward the patch of light left by the window in our very own bedroom. As soon as we stepped into the light, we froze for a second. This time we exchanged a single word.
“Dance?”
We nodded in agreement and started dancing in the light. Our audience of one watched us for a moment, enchanted by our silent dance party. Then she pulled out her phone, selected a playlist and joined us in the dance. Normally, an adult joining such a party might break the magic spell of childhood, but in that moment, when she allowed herself to be free, we loved her more. Her freedom and our dance party didn’t last long.
“Oh good, she left the door ajar,” Uncle Burt’s voice carried over the music.
Mother rushed to turn it off and brush stray hair back from her eyes before they reached the door. She just barely made it.
“Girls, come stand with mommy,” she gestured for us to step out of our patch of light.
We didn’t want to, but the intense look on her face convinced us. Moments later Uncle Burt backed through the door, balancing one end of a jumbled mass of wood. Father held the other end, calling out directions to help Burt avoid whacking into anything sneaking up behind him. They navigated through our patch of light and gently placed the bundle on the ground, detaching the tape from the pieces and beginning a discussion about how best to turn them into our new bunk beds.
Then Jimmy appeared with a toy box. He winked at us as he deposited it in the far corner of the living room.
“Don’t say I never did nothing for you, kids.”
If he expected a response, the closest thing he got was our footsteps pounding across the hardwood to see which of our plastic and stuffed friends made their way into this hiding place. We weren’t disappointed. Soon, we were wrapped up in the stories we told with our friends to help us see them better. Wrapped up in our imaginations, the activity around us barely attracted our attention for the rest of the morning.
~~
After sharing lunch with our very sweaty, but reasonably priced moving crew, our base of operations moved to our bedroom. They carefully placed each piece of furniture almost precisely as it was in our old house, except we now had a bunk bed on one wall instead of a crib and a mattress on the floor. Since Maggie was barely out of her crib, it was decided that I would sleep on the top bunk. I wasn’t sure I liked that idea, so when they closed the door behind us, I climbed up to check it out. I promptly climbed back down to where Maggie lay examining her new space.
“I don’t like it at all,” I informed her.
“Me sleep,” she offered fervently.
“You’re tired already?”
She shook her head. “Scared. Need you.” She turned those pleading eyes on me.
“You want me to sleep in your bed tonight?”
“Please?” She buried her head in my chest, wrapping her arms around me.
“Okay. But we can’t tell mother and father.”
She gave me a confused look.
“They might tell us no, so I will sneak down after they kiss us goodnight.”
“Okay.” She replied.
Then she hopped out of bed and started talking excitedly about all the familiar things in our new room.
~~
I didn’t forget my promise despite how weary we were from the day’s excitement. Mother and Father tucked us in, showered us with smooches, and then hovered outside the door for a few minutes, listening. When their footsteps finally padded down the hall to their own room, I carefully crept down the ladder. Maggie let out a contented sigh as we wrapped up in each other’s arms to the face the unfamiliar together.
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