I knew something was wrong when I spotted my brother driving around in a bright red convertible. I had no idea that the car would be the key to a treachery that I had not anticipated, as well as a scheme that Gran had started long before she passed away. Juniper is my name. I have been residing out of state for the past four years, and I am currently 26. To be honest, leaving my family and all the pain they caused was the best choice I have ever made. Not that I ever felt like I belonged to them. Maverick, my older brother, had always been the favorite of my parents. It would not even begin to describe him to claim that he was the golden child. I was simply there as a child. Gran used to joke that she was “spare,” but there was always tenderness in her voice when she said it.
I left in part because of that. That and my partner, Noel, of course. He persuaded me that it was time to live for myself and make a name for myself apart from my family. I moved to the city with him, leaving behind my parents, Maverick, and all the memories, after we packed up our small car. I once told him over dinner, “Noel, I promise, I just could not stay there anymore.” I can still picture him grinning at me across the table as his hand reached out to take mine. June, you do not have to explain it to me once more. Squeezing my hand, he had comforted me, “You did the right thing.” “You are not deserving of being the backup plan.
“My family and I had not spoken in four years. Less people were making calls, and texts were only used occasionally. My folks? To be honest, they did not seem to mind. I appeared to have simply vanished from their lives. Gran was the only one who maintained contact.
The only member of my family who gave me a sense of significance was she. She used to call me late at night to check on me and sneak me chocolate bars when my mom was not around when I was younger. Gran did not give a damn if I thought my life was a disaster or if it was dull. She did nothing except listen. Then one day I learned that she had passed away. Accidentally. Nothing—not a message, not a call. Is that really true? Of all places, I was perusing through Facebook when I came across a post from a former family member. Gran’s photo. A “Rest in Peace” note and a date.
My breathing stopped. I stared at my phone, waiting for things to make sense, but they didn’t. It felt as though my heart had been torn from my chest. I got up, put my phone down on the table, and whispered, “Gran’s gone.” Noel raised his head from the sofa. “What? How come you say she is not there?”