Page 26 of Sunset Catchers

Which is sort of a lie. My mother did have another child. But I don’t have a sister. Not in the relationship sense of the word. Not in the let’s braid each other’s hair, and is that my top you’re wearing?! sense of the word.

Only in the we grew in the same womb way.

“So, it was just you and your parents growing up?”

Levi notices my increasing stiffness.

I’m sure my aura is betraying me somehow, blazing bright red at this instant. I hate it. I hate that a simple question is so complicated, so layered for me. I also hate how limiting it is.

It’s always questions about parents. Plural.

Sure, technically, it takes two people to make a kid, and even that’s nuanced, but then when it comes to raising them, all bets are off. I’m in a singular type situation. I only ever had my mother, and even that is a stretch.

I ponder my options.

Saying yes is the easier route. Especially if this question is the end of it. But then, if more comes, it gets awkward because then if people follow up with another classic question and ask what my parents do for work, it will come out.

That I only have the one parent. Singular.

It will lead to even more questions, or to the silent arbitration of my life. Those options suck. And it’s not that I’m ashamed, but there’s also nothing to be proud of here.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Levi offers.

“Cool,” I say, then pop a fry in my mouth.

And right there, in his sun-soaked face—regret. He so wishes he could take it back. It’s one of those weird social rules everyone follows that I don’t understand. People will ask you questions, then end it with, “It’s fine if you don’t want to tell me.” They’ll issue an invitation followed by “I understand if you already have plans.” Yet, they never expect you to reach out and take the get out of jail free card

they are giving away.

Well, if it’s all so fine and understandable, great. Awesome.

I don’t want to tell you and bummer, I do already have plans.

I always, always take the easy way out. You can’t throw a lifeline to a girl who’s always a bit drowning and be surprised when she grips with both hands.

That’s the only way I know how to stay afloat.

We talk about the cottages, leaving personal subjects behind while we finish off our burgers.

“We should probably get going for the marketplace pick up,” I say after noticing the time on my phone.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Let’s go.”

Later that day, I’m dipping foam brushes into small cans of paint tinted with the different color options I chose.

While everything has been painted a fresh coat of white primer prior to my arrival, I didn’t plan on any being left behind; every wall was getting some color.

I love using paint to add color to homes. It is easy and inexpensive. Plus, white walls are so boring and can also get dirty so easily, which isn’t great for a rental property. This is the perfect opportunity to play, since it isn’t anyone’s permanent home. I can make bolder choices. Nobody will stay here long enough to get sick over a potentially bright yellow living room.

I take a few steps back to get a better look at the dark pink color I’m considering for the bedroom in my cottage. It’s really pretty, and I feel good about it, but I want to wait a couple of days before making any final decisions. I need to see how the shade will shift at different times of day and with different lighting, before fully committing.

I gather a few more brushes and the remaining paint cans, and make my way outside. I still need to get the swatches up in Levi’s cottage.

After unloading the furniture we bought off a local from his car, which we’d barely managed to fit in, we’d each gone to our own cottages to spend the afternoon apart. I used those hours to scour online ads and scored a dresser that would go perfectly in my bedroom and a pair of vintage armchairs for Levi’s living room to be picked up tomorrow. And also to move along some projects for Petra and Maurice.

I knock on Levi’s door, and it immediately opens. My coworker, it seems, from the open laptop and notebook on the table, has been spending his free time working on his day job.

He looks a bit aloof.