Sydney Bay Janes

"How was your flight?" 

I picked my head up from the window and put on a faint smile.

"It was nice, yeah," I answered.

That was the first thing my mother's sister said the whole ride from the airport. Well, other than "hi."

I don't know what her excuse was, I just was in my head. The move was obviously unexpected, I needed a plan, but at least I was away from him. That's what I kept telling myself.

We got out of the car and I stood outside of a normal Nevada home, it was nothing special. I liked it. The stone details that made up the foundation and overall exterior looked pink. There was a chimney, two car garage, and the roofing was barrel tiles, giving it that Spanish-style home feel. Not a lot of windows of the face of the home, and the door looked like a cage or prison cell. All that and not a single touch of greenery, that's actually what I first noticed - no life to the house.

"Syd," Delaney called from the front door. "This way."

I snapped out of my head and carried my bags inside.

"This is a nice place, Delaney, thanks for letting me stay here," I said, dropping the groceries she stopped for on the counter top.

She made an animated face and giggled. "Feel free to call me Aunt like you used to," she giggled.

I faked a laugh back. "Thanks."

She slammed the refrigerator shut and said, "And stop thanking me!"

I looked at the stainless steele fridge that was almost naked with the exception of a business card to some lawn care company.

"Come," my aunt squeaked, "let me show you around."

She was far too excited, but I appreciated her hospitality; I made a mental note to thank her later.

From the kitchen, we passed this sliding glass door that led to the poor backyard.

I leaned against the beige wall and blinked.

Delaney stopped talking about herself for a minute and joined me in observing the wasted potential that is her yard.

"I know," she exhaled, "waste of space, huh?"

My thoughts exactly.

"I know. I was meaning to get to it, but life. My last fiance started a project, when we split, he took the ideas with him. My current boyfriend gave me a card to his landscaper."

I lit up. "I saw that, you should call him," I suggested.

She smiled up at me as I was five-seven to her five-two.

"Maybe I will," she hummed. "Alright, your room - let's go."

*

I stood back while Delaney struggled to push the door open to the last bedroom on the right side of the narrow hall. It got awkward, I looked away, patting my thighs.

"Finally," she huffed, shaking the ashy brown curls from her face.

I plastered on a close-lipped smile and walked in after her to a sweltering room full of boxes and abstract art. Some pieces better than others.

"These are beautiful," I complimented, looking around at the paintings.

The ones that caught my eye were the ones of women's vaginas, she had them in every shade and size you could imagine - they even showcased different pubic hair cuts from clean shaven to a full bush, a landing strip, or triangle.

I sort of laughed and then peeled my eyes away.

"Those are some of my best sellers," she said. 

I looked confused.

Seeing my stuck face, Delaney kicked some boxes to a corner and explained. "For my small business," she let me know and I nodded slowly.

"No, I love that. I'll have to purchase some, spread the word. I didn't know you were so talented," I spoke.

Delaney laughed short. "Well that's because your father branded me the hoe-- oh. I'm sorry, Sydney."

Uncomfortable, I crossed my arms over my flat chest and swallowed hard. "No, uh, it's okay."

And she looked sorry.

There was a moment of silence where she just moved her lips as if she was ready to linger on it, but read my facial expression and chose not to.

I didn't ever bring up my parents or like to think about what happened, anymore. Plus Delaney's the only other person who knows what happened. I like to keep it that way.

"So," she sang, clapping her hands together. 

I got myself together and waited for her to continue.

"I'm going to let you get settled. Um, just, yeah, push that shit out of the way. Chicken fajitas for dinner cool?"

"Yeah," I agreed, throwing a suitcase on the platform bed. "I'm probably gonna nap, I'm... tired."

"Certainly! Take your time, dinner will be out when you're ready. Uh, yep, just holler if you need me."

I waved her out and lowered my bottom onto the bed where I sighed deeply and tucked strands of hair behind my left ear.

"Syd," my aunt called my name, popping her head back in.

"Yeah?"

She patted the door and then said softly, "I'm glad you're here."

I didn't wake up until around ten at night. The first thing I did was call Chyna.

"No way you're calling me from Heaven," she teased.

I rolled my eyes and sat up. "I knew you'd freak, but I can explain."

"Explain what: how you up and moved to a whole other state?"

I pulled my lip as I waited for her to finish.

"That's fucked up, Syd. I been worried sick about you," my best friend nagged.

"You're right," I said, vibrating my lips. 

"I saw the news," she told me. Shit.

"Is it bad?"

"Um, it's not boring, I'll say that," she said. "Girl, even The Shaderoom talking about his ass. You okay?"

"God. I'm fine. I just can't believe this happened."

"I would like to know exactly what happened."

I tossed my head back and groaned. "Chy, I really don't wanna relive that trauma right now."

"You know me, I'm nosey. Spill."

"He was just drunk-"

"Did he put his hands on you?"

"I-- yes." I almost lied but she would've knew it and gotten mad.

I heard her sigh like she was disappointed. "You don't deserve that. What are you going to do?"

"I already did it, I left him. That's it, I just wanna wipe my hands clean of Tony Becker."

"I guess. If it was me, I'd torture his ass. Why do you put up with that?"

"Drop it, Chy."

"Sydney, is that you up? Dinner!" Delaney yelled from beyond the door.

"Who's that? You can stay with someone else, and not me?" Chyna raged.

I rolled my brown, tired eyes at her. "He would've found me, Chy."

"So? I got a gun," she sassed but was oh so serious.

I pulled my knees to my chest and just let out a bored, "Yeah."

"Well, he's taken care of now. I think they takin' his ass to rehab," she let me know.

"Pssh, yeah, like it'll work this time."

"Shit, I hope. How about his baby momma?"

"No clue, she just left him."

"Hm. She ain't been active online either after posting her statement about their breakup."

"I hope she'll be okay, that poor baby," I let out.

"And you?"

I stared out of the window. "I'll be fine. I miss you, though."

"Girl, you do not miss me already," she made me laugh.

"I do. Come see me one day?"

"Just say when, stink," Chyna replied. I couldn't see her but I could tell she was smiling.

When I didn't say anything back, she grinned, Chyna spoke up. "Alright, I'll let you go. Talk soon?"

"Duh," I responded.

She laughed. "Love you, mean it."

"Love you, too. Bye."

With that, I pushed myself off of the eco-friendly mattress and let out a yawn.

I still couldn't believe I up and went to Nevada of all places. Well, it wasn't all bad, just I thought if I was ever going to run away it'd be somewhere far that Tony would never think of. Although, I don't exactly see myself settling down in Ohio or some place like Maine or Kentucky.

I met Delaney in the kitchen. Her cheap body spray hit my nose and got in my mouth.

"Oh," I gagged. 

She was in a little black dress and pumps, her hair pulled back in a bun with a pencil through it.

"Going out?" I asked.

She put in her last earring and grinned. "Yeah, with Tom."

I lifted my chin and wandered over to the stove where I noticed the chicken strips.

"Can I-"

She cut me off to say, "Yeah, help yourself!"

I took one off the skillet and bit into it.

"Cold," I sounded.

"Sorry. Eh, pop it in the air-fryer, good as new."

I laughed and did as she said.

While that heated up, I sat at the bar stool and tapped my finger nails on the hardware.

Delaney must've sensed I was bored and felt bad.

"I can't go out, you just got here. We should talk, right? Get to know each other, better?" she mused, squeezing my hand.

I stammered. "I-I guess."

"I like that. Ugh, where do I begin?" she asked, taking the stool next to me. "Have I ever told you about the time your dad ripped his pants and your mom peed herself, laughing so hard. . ."