Maya

"Ma'am?"

I hear him, but it doesn't register that the man is talking to me, for a few too many seconds. I am not a ma'am. I'm twenty-three. Surely that is too young to be called ma'am.

I turn back and smile at the older man. He's likely in his fifties and is wearing a vest with the Amtrak logo and his name tag. John. His gray beard is well kept and I notice his blue eyes. I always notice features on people like that.

"Yes, sorry. One one way ticket to Portland, Maine," I say to him.

He nods and punches it into the computer. "We have just one train going there, it leaves at midnight."

  "Midnight?" I repeat. It's a bit after 6P.M. but I really just want to get out of there. I left my apartment with a backpack of personal items and went right to the train station. "Okay, one ticket please."

He nods again and prints the ticket and then takes my credit card. With the ticket in my hand, I thank him and turn away again.

  I have no where to go while I wait for the train, so I cross the station and sit down on a chair, at the end of long row. There are other people in the station - it's actually pretty busy. I look around, wondering where everyone else is going. I shut my eyes, remembering that no one knows I'm there. They won't find me. I have to make some phone calls. Like, a lot. But I can't call my friends while I'm still in town. Lindsey and Tamara would get here as fast as they could and try to convince me to stay. They wouldn't understand why I'm leaving. I can't stay, even though it feels so wrong to be going back to Maine. I know I should call my sister, to tell her that I'm coming. My dad, too. But it all feels so wrong, so I just sit there staring at the huge clock hanging from the ceiling, watching the minutes and hours go by.

~~

My sister's house is the type of house you'd see on TV. It's small but perfectly magazine-esque. Her husband is a landscaper, so the exterior of the house is gorgeous. I've never been here before. I've never been in my own sister's house.

Nella is seventeen months older than me, and everyone thought we were twins, growing up. We were the Becker Sisters, even up until high school. We grew up in Booth Bay, Maine, were everyone knows everyone. Our dad was a lawyer, and our mom was a preschool teacher. We had a nice, easy life. Until we didn't.

I have Nella's address, because she sent me birthday and Christmas cards the last three years. She had emailed me a photo of her house when she and her husband bought it, six months after they got married. The Christmas card that showed up at my apartment just three months ago included an adorable photo of her daughter, Willow, wearing Christmas pajamas, sitting under their tree, in their perfect living room. Willow is just two, and Nella is pregnant again, due this coming summer.

But I am not a part of my sister's life. I've been gone too long. I haven't visited. I knew better than to expect her to be happy to see me.

I knock anyway. I have no other choice.

I should have called Nella, on the train. I should have given her a head's up.

"Hello."

The guy that answers the door is of course George, Nella's husband. We've never met, but I have seen him on her Instagram. Of course I used to follow my sister and her perfect life, online.

George is tall and dark and has a big afro, and a bigger smile.

"Hi, I'm-"

"Maya," George answers, surprised. "Um, wow, was Nell expecting you?"

"No. No," I say, shaking my head. "Is she here?"

"I'm George, her husband. It's so weird, we've never met." He ignores my question about my sister.

"Yeah." I step back, adjusting my backpack over my shoulder. "Sorry."

And then George is hugging me. Like, full out squeezing my entire body. I just stand there in shock and wait until he steps back again, and then he grabs my hand and pulls me into the house. Of course he does, because my sister's husband is perfect, too.

The front door closes behind me and I feel too stiff, as if I'm not meant to be there. The house is gorgeous inside, too, but feels warm and lived in. I glance into the room that I can see, and notice toys on the floor, on some colorful foam mats. The sofa is beige and looks really comfortable.

"Wow," George says again, bringing me back to reality. "What brings you here?"

Of course he wants to know. I'm surprised he didn't ask before he pulled me into his house.

I sigh, not knowing how much to tell him. I need to see Nella. "Um, it was a really last minute decision."

"To come back to your hometown to visit, after being away for..." He lets his voice trail off and I know why. He doesn't want to seem like he's judging me.

"Four years. Yeah."

"Wow, yeah." George is still just standing there, looking at me. "Sorry, you and Nell look so much alike."

This surprises me, because I feel like I've changed so much since I left Booth Bay. When I left, I was nineteen, Nella was twenty. It was a few months before her twenty-first birthday, actually, and she was so mad at me that she didn't answer my calls, for weeks. When I left, I had so many reasons to get away from this small, coastal town. I'd made a life in New York, on my own. After the first few rough months, I was doing well. I made friends, I had a job, I was out on my own. I felt good, for the first time in a long time. I wasn't just Nella's little sister. I wasn't the daughter of the lawyer, who cheated on his dying wife. I was just Maya.

Now, it's as if George sees me as just Nella's sister, which throws me off.

"Oh, yeah," I say, tucking some blonde hair behind my ear.

Nella and I had the same blonde, thin hair and the same blue-green eyes, when we were younger. Our faces are the same shape and besides that she is a tiny bit taller than me, we are very alike. In New York, I died my hair brown. For two years, I kept it dark, and I wore glasses that I didn't need. I really wanted to be different. But I stopped dying my hair and let it grow out, and cut it short, only a month ago. I threw away the glasses, too.

There's a shout from down the hallway, and I am brought back to the real world once again. George smiles and turns towards where the sound came from. I realize quickly that is it likely, Willow, their daughter. Suddenly everything feels so wrong.

"I should go," I spit out, feeling dizzy.

   I can't be here. I can't be meeting George and Willow and pretending like I'm back for a visit. I have to go find my sister.

"Oh, no, Nella should be back soon. She just ran out to the market for some breakfast," George tells me.

It's just after 8A.M. I slept a bit on the train and got off in Portland, then took a bus to Booth Bay and walked from the bus station to this address. I did all of that like a zombie, without much thought. I felt relief to be out of New York, more than anything.

"She doesn't know I'm here. And I shouldn't be here, meeting you and her baby when she's not even here," I say quickly. My heart is pounding. I know Nella. She will hate this.

"I'll just call her-" George goes on. "She'll want you to stay."

I'm not so sure, but I nod anyway. He pulls out his phone and then puts it to his ear. "Hey babe. Um, so, I have a sort of surprise? I mean, it surprised me... yeah... so... your sister is here." I am just standing there feeling frozen. I know I should turn and run. I know I've messed up. "Babe, relax. Are you driving? Oh, good. Okay, just come home when you're done. You want her to stay, right? She's trying to leave." He looks at me and smiles, but he's sort of acting like I'm not right there. "Okay. I'll tell her."

When he puts his phone back into his pocket, he's grinning. "She says stay! She was shocked, of course, but there's no sense in you going to your hotel now. She'll be home in ten minutes."

My hotel. Right. As if I've booked a hotel room for my "visit". Of course I haven't. It's not a visit.

"Okay," I say, but I still don't feel right about being here.

"Put your bag down, and come in and meet your niece," George goes on, like this is not big deal.

But it is. It's a huge deal. Nella had been mad at me for a long time. She was mad that I left right before her birthday, with little to no notice. She was mad that I didn't come back for her engagement party or her wedding, all within the next year. And she was furious that I hadn't made much effort to have anything to do with her daughter. Nella has every right to hate me, and now I am back, and in her house.

What the hell am I doing?