× Mercury

The kitchen was alive with delicious smells - a turkey two sizes bigger than my head was roasting in the oven, every side dish imaginable scattered the island from all the salads (potato, pasta, crab, even the simple romaine with cut up tomatoes and cucumbers) to green bean casserole, glazed carrots, corn bread, cranberries, and every kind of potato conceivable from mashed, sweet, baked, and scalloped.

Grandma and I got up early to make the pies - coconut custard, deep-dish strawberry rhubarb, pumpkin, and chocolate pecan. They currently sit atop each other in the fridge, waiting to be eaten once everything else was dug into.

Thanksgiving in Grandma's household was always like an Olympic event that lasted the whole day that gave our stomachs a workout.

"Hey, hand me a knife," Anders said from the dining room table.

"Yeah, like I'm going to give you a knife," I laughed and continued to cup up the carrots. "Do you not remember what happened during Christmas break six years ago?"

Anders stood up defensively. "I still have my fingers!"

"Yeah, but the neighborhood cat will never be the same again."

I had spent the last three days on autopilot - too excited to see Grandma and my friends again to pay much attention to what was going on around me. I went to my classes and I took the notes, I went to soccer practice and did all the drills. But it was all a blur because I had more important things on my mine. Anders and I had left London yesterday and had gotten to Grandma's house pretty late Wednesday night. After the hugs and the "I'm so glad to see you's", the two of us went straight to bed, the long flight kicking us in the butt.

I cleared my throat. "So, uh..." I started, suddenly feeling awkward. "Why didn't you tell me you were bisexual?"

"I didn't tell you because it's a relatively new thing I discovered," he explained, taking a seat at the island counter in front of me. "And because it's not something I want to share over the phone or through email."

I just nodded. I wanted to know more, but I also didn't want to push him away. Before the air force, the two of us had been close. We shared everything with each other. Okay, maybe not everything, but the stuff that was totally acceptable to share with a sibling. But now that he had been gone for five years with little visits and contact, things had changed.

"One Friday night, we had all gone to a local bar and gotten pretty drunk," Anders said. "Long story short, I ended up sleeping with a girl named Arial. We had gone through training together so we were pretty close. I was surprised that it didn't happen sooner, if I'm being honest."

"Anders, you don't have to tell me this," I assured him.

"I know. But I also know that you're dying to know the story," he added, an eloquent smile on his lips.

When we were still living under the same roof, he could always see right through me. Knew when I was lying or feeling ill before I could even say anything. Knowing that he could see right through me after all this time sent comfort through my bones. And also uneasiness. If he could tell I wanted to know the story... what else had he figured out?

"I also had a good friend in the force. His name was Tommy," Anders continued. "A few weeks after the night I slept with Arial, Tommy was transported to a different country. I had warning, but that didn't stop the ache in my chest when he actually packed his things and left. I didn't sleep at all that night. My roommate had woken up and saw how messed up I was and we ended up talking. The next thing I knew, he was kissing me."

My brows rose from that statement.

Anders laughed at my expression. "That's exactly how I felt. It just happened so fast, and the part that scared me the most was that I enjoyed it. But even though I was clearly attracted to my roommate, I was still thinking about the night Arial and I had spent together." Then he chuckled suddenly, like the whole story was bizarre even to him. "After some experimenting, I figured it out. And it suddenly made sense why I found dudes attractive in high school but dated girls."

"So are you dating anyone right now? Arial or your roommate?" I asked.

"No," he said. "This is new territory for me so I'm just trying to settle in first. Although... Matt seems like a pretty cool dude."

"Yeah?"

"I actually talked to him quite a bit at that club we went to in London," he explained. "He was the one who gave me a ride back to your dorm since you rudely left me behind."

"How many times do you have to bring that up? I told you I'm sorry."

Anders smiled and stole a piece of tomato from the cutting board and popped it into his mouth. "I'll forgive you if you tell me where you went when you left the club. Does it have anything to do with that giant hickey on your neck?"

Right then, Grandma came in from the backdoor with a handful of fruits and vegetables. She was wearing blue jeans with some mud on the knees and a bright yellow T-shirt. Her short graying hair was pulled back in a small ponytail and her pale blue eyes were covered with small wire rimmed glasses.

"How's the garden doing this year, Grandma?" Anders asked, giving me a look that clearly said this conversation wasn't over, before he walked over to her and helped by grabbing some of the fruits in her hands. "I remember when I left for basic training you were complaining about how the cucumbers weren't doing so good."

"It's doing fantastic," she said as she put some red and orange peppers down on the counter. "Better than it has in a long time, even my radishes are popping up. The only problem now is the rabbits. They seem to like my strawberries the most."

The three of us fell into small chatter as I continued to cut up the carrots and dropping them into the salad.

This was what I missed the most, the aimless babble and just being together. It used to be like this a lot before my parents died and Anders went off into the air force. A few times a month the family would go over to Grandma's and play card games and cook a big dinner. Those traditions went away when the fire happened for obvious reasons. But I don't like to think about.

"Who's all coming to our Thanksgiving dinner, Grandma?" I asked as I grabbed a tomato and started chopping it up.

Grandma took a seat at the island and looked at the array of food ready to be placed on the dining room table.

"The usual," she said. "My poker buddy, Vern, and his wife Pearl. The twins Bertha and Betty. Oh, and I invited the neighbors across the street, Ben and Anna. Also Sheila should be stopping by."

I slammed the knife I was using on the cutting board and turned to Grandma. "Why didn't you tell me that sooner!?"

Even before I had my tickets to fly home for thanksgiving, I already knew that I wouldn't be seeing Coach Sharp. During the holidays, she visits her family in Washington. I guess that was an exception this time.

Grandma just shrugged. "I thought you knew, dear. Because you were coming down for Thanksgiving, she decided to spend the holiday with us instead of seeing her family. She always did act like part of our little family."

"What are you talking about, Grandma?" Anders said with a crease of his eyebrows. "Sheila is part of the family. She's our coolest aunt."

After hearing the good news, I couldn't stop smiling. The last time I saw Coach Sharp was... I couldn't even remember the last time I saw her. Grandma, my friends, my brother, and now Coach Sharp, this was most definitely going to be a good holiday.

"Lynn, why don't you go take a nap or call your friends on the phone or something before the guests come," Grandma proposed ten minutes later of tossing the salad and mashing potatoes. "You got up early and worked all day. You're only here for a few days, enjoy it."

So I took her suggestion and went to my room and closed the door, leaving Grandma and Anders to tend to whatever else needed to be done for the dinner.

Flopping on my bed, I grabbed my phone and looked through my contacts. I probably would have called my friends but I was seeing them on Saturday before I left. Besides, they were probably with their family enjoying their Thanksgiving anyways.

Instead of texting Jamie or Emily, I found myself typing a message to Jace. It was only one in the afternoon in California, so it should be nine over there in London and I knew he would still be awake.

How was practice today?

A few minutes later he responded.

Fine.

That was it, just one word. These past few days he'd been quiet and reserved, not talking to me unless I initiated the conversation. And even then, he only talked when he was supposed to and nodded at the appropriate times. When I asked him if he was okay, he just simply said he was fine, which I didn't believe. But I didn't push it. If he wanted to talk about it, he would.

I eventually found sleep because the next thing I knew I was waking up to see that it was almost four, the time when Grandma said the dinner would happen. Quickly fixing my hair into a messy braid and changing into shorts and a white turtle neck, I walked out of my room and into the hallway.

A turtle neck wasn't my first choice of attire, but the marks along my neck were still visible from that unfortunate drunken event I had with Niall in his room. It was bad enough that Anders asked questions, I didn't want my grandma's friend's gawking at the bruises as well.

Voices filled the house and I knew that the guests have arrived. In the living room I saw the twins Grandma was friends with sitting on the love seat and talking to Vern and his wife. I walked passed them with a small wave and into the kitchen where I found Anders, Grandma, and Anna getting the food out from the fridge and setting the long dining room table for dinner. My heart fell when I didn't find Coach Sharp.

"Good, you're awake!" Grandma said when she saw me watching them. "The dinner is about to get served so wash up and take a seat."

The Thanksgiving dinner was lovely as always. The food was delicious, everyone swapped stories about what was new in their lives, and I updated everyone on college life in London. My brother talked about his time in the air force and the twins, Bertha and Betty, shared their story about how they met Doris Day on the streets of Hollywood Boulevard a few weeks ago. And in the middle of it, Coach Sharp arrived with her special holiday recipe of marble pumpkin cheesecake and a bright smile.

After dinner, Grandma and her guests went into the living room to continue chatting while Anders, Coach Sharp, and I stayed in the kitchen to wash the dishes and put the leftovers in Tupperware containers.

"Remember when Mom always told us to wash the dishes after Thanksgiving?" Anders asked as he scooped the stuffing into a large plastic bowl. "At the time I hated it, but I would give anything to hear her nagging voice again."

I smiled at the memory as I dried a plate with a rag. "And then she would act angry when she caught us throwing bubbles of dish soap at each other."

We lapped into silence then, lost in old memories of Mom. That was all we had left of her; our memories. We lost everything in the fire that day except for the clothes on our backs - pictures, souvenirs from trips, home videos, birthday cards, anything that connected to our parents - all gone. I thought about Mom and Dad a lot and about all the happy and sad times we had together because I was afraid that if I didn't, I might lose those, too.

"Your mom was always like that," Coach Sharp added with her hands in the sink. "Always was a hard-ass but knew when to have fun. It was one thing I liked about her in college, even if I didn't like her that much."

"Why didn't you like Mom?" Anders asked.

Coach Sharp laughed. It was a light sound and anything but aggressive. "Oh, it's silly. See, your dad and I were best friends - did everything together. People called us The Duo," she said, a little sadly. "We were both in soccer so we would go out on our free time to practice together. And then your mom came into the picture and Ryan started spending his free time with her."

She finished one of the plates and handed it to me to dry.

"It had gotten to the point that I never saw Ryan anymore," she continued, grabbing a new plate and began to scrub. "I was jealous so I told him that I missed our time in the field together and he sympathized, promising to spend time with me, too.

"Well, your father thought I didn't like your mother and started seeing her behind closed doors," she said with a little laugh. "It was quite the show to walk in on the two of them on his bed and-"

"Whoa," Anders interrupted. "As much as I love hearing stories of my parents, I don't need to know that."

Coach Sharp looked at the two of us with a smile. "Sorry," she said, though I didn't think she meant it. "But it was all a huge misunderstanding. Your father thought it would have been better to keep the relationship a secret for my benefit, and even though I didn't mind them together, the thought was still there."

"I didn't know that..." I said.

"Yeah, well," she shrugged. "I thought their little fling wouldn't last because everyone knows secret relationships are more of a thrill than anything else. But the next thing I knew, they were getting married and you two were in the world."

× × ×

Later that evening I found myself snooping around.

The house I lived at with Grandma also used to be the house my mom grew up in, so being curious wasn't anything new. I had been doing it for the past three years and every time I went on one of those adventures, I always came back with something new, whether it was an old toy my mom had when she was a kid or even something as simple as a notebook from when she was in geometry - doodles and all.

I've looked in closets, the chest at the end of Grandma's bed, cardboard boxes in the spare room, even in the dirty attic, which was where I was at in that moment. I shifted through old music albums Grandma used to listen to, found every dirty knickknacks she owns, and every crate with old board games and loose papers.

The attic reminded me of a horror movie, cobwebs sticking to the corners and old creaking floorboards. The air was thick and smelled of dust and a hint of mildew. A yellow light bulb hung from the center of the ceiling, making the shadows move whenever there was an air current. None of that bothered me, though, not when I knew my mom used to come up here all the time to sneak out of the house when she was in high school.

I was in the middle of reading the spines of books on the shelf when the yellow light reflected off a zipper of a large leather bag and hit me in the eye.

There was a thick layer of dust on the top and two small pockets Velcroed shut. A long strap was attached to go over someone's shoulder and the initials R. A. B. scratched into the leather. The second my eyes landed on the three letters, I knew I had found something.

R. A. B. Rachel Ann Bell, my mother's first, middle, and maiden name.

I quickly unzipped the messenger bag. Inside I found little slots with electronics inside that I quickly realized were more than just that. The camera was the first thing I saw. It was a Minolta camera with a 200m lens. Also inside the bag were batteries, a detachable flash, filters, and different sized lenses.

"Lynn!?" I heard Grandma shout from downstairs. "Anders and I are about to start Pieces of April if you want to come watch with us."

I didn't respond, I was too busy looking at all the gadgets in front of me. Just beyond where the bag lay, I saw a tripod leaning against the wall along with a large strobe light. I picked up the camera and examined the condition. Aside from it being really old and in need of new batteries, I couldn't find a reason why it wouldn't work.

Footsteps sounded and Grandma's head popped up through the hole in the floor. "What are you doing up here?"

"Why didn't you tell me Mom was into photography?" I asked her.

Grandma climbed the rest of the way up into the attic and pulled up a crate before sitting down next to me. "I guess it never crossed my mind," she confessed. "She never did anything with it, just sat in her room collecting dust... much like it is now."

"How come?"

"Don't know. She got all this stuff when she was in high school, so work and boys probably got in the way of it. She must have forgotten she even had it. It's a shame, too, because from what I can recall, your mother had an eye for creativity."

I popped the door open of the camera and took out the roll of film. "Do you think there are pictures on here?"

If there was, then there might be a chance that I could learn a little more history from my mother through the pictures she took. It wouldn't be the same if she were to just tell me, but that obviously wasn't an option anymore.

"I wouldn't doubt it," Grandma said with a smile. "When Rachel first got the camera, she wouldn't put it down. She took pictures of everything. Went out and explored Hollywood just for the purpose of taking pictures. She always said that she was viewing life through a box, whether it was from her camera or the car window."

Looking through the bag, I quickly found the film container and popped the film inside before the light exposure could do any harm.

"Do you know a place nearby that still develops film?" I asked.

Grandma shook her head. "Sorry, dear, I don't. But I'm sure someone here in this big city must."

I sat on the dusty floor and looked at the small, black container and smiled. This little thing held my mother's history and I was only a develop away from it.

"Do you want it?" Grandma asked.

"What?"

"The bag with the camera. Do you want it?"

"Yes!"

Grandma laughed. "It's all yours. Your mom would want you to have it anyways."

"Hey!" Anders shouted from downstairs. "Is there a party up there I wasn't invited to or something? I'm only home for a few days and this is how you treat me? Bloody ridiculous."

Grandma shook her head and looked at me. "Just because he spend a week in London, now he thinks he knows their lingo. Now come on, we got a movie to watch."

And that's what we did.

After the movie, the news came on and the three of us played card games until we couldn't keep our eyes open any longer.

I went to bed early that night. Well, earlier than I had been since I had gotten to London. I fell asleep thinking about spending the whole day with Grandma and Anders and seeing my friends on Saturday and that I had to pack my things once again and go back to London.