The Truth About Life

-Olivia:Chapter Eighteen-

Mommy and daddy drop me off at my aunt and uncle's house. They have a dinner party to go to that isn't for kids.

I told mommy I wanted to go to Cecil's house instead, but she said, "Cecil doesn't want to be bothered by you, Olivia."

I try not to believe that, but grownups always tell the truth, right?

I suck my thumb when we walk up to the door, my tummy starts to feel sickish. I hug Bonnie the bunny tightly to my chest.

"Olivia," my mommy's voice sounds mad, "Get your thumb out of your mouth, how many times do I have to tell you!"

My cousin answers the door. Maybe my uncle is gone for the night, maybe I can just sit on the couch and wait for mommy and daddy to come back. I walk inside and I hear my parents' car pull away from the house.

"Daddy!" my cousin calls, "Livy's here, we can play hide-and-seek now!" My thumb goes in my mouth all by itself.

"Liv, you're on dad's team cause you're the youngest! I'll count first and you guys hide! 1…….2……….3………"

My uncle tries to take my hand, but I cringe away, "Come on Olivia, I have the perfect hiding place."

He takes me up to the attic, it's dark and dusty and I can smell something stinky. I'm scared and I feel like I'm choking. My uncle starts to rub my shoulders, I make myself as small as possible, maybe I can turn invisible.

"Cecil!" I scream inside. I want to scream out loud, but I'm choking on my fear and nothing will come out.

I start to cry, and my uncle says, "It's ok Olivia, everything's going to be just fine."

I'm in the laundry room, cleaning out buckets and organizing shelves. The dryer is quietly tumbling, and the fresh smell of laundry soap reminds me that things once dirty can become clean again.

Maybe I can start with a clean slate, maybe I can be a better mother, a better friend, better neighbor, better daughter?

That list feels overwhelming, I have so many things to work on, to be better at. If I don't start working on something, I'll start losing things……. like my husband. I roll my eyes, heave a giant sigh.

I grab the ladder, lugging it over to the shelving above the washer. We have so much junk lining these shelves. There are totes labeled with Audrey and Chase's names, some scribbled hurriedly with permanent marker. One marked "Recipes." A stack of old records and CD's are stacked a bit precariously on the edge.

An old water-stained cardboard box with "Olivia's childhood memories" written in my mother's hand, sits heavily next to the CD's.

Old roller skates and soccer cleats are stuffed in between boxes. I run my hand over the box marked "1999", the year Gabe and I said our wedding vows. The year we made a promise to love each other through thick and thin.

Those promises are dead now. The love that was planted struggled to grow, and wasn't able to stand the test of time.

I stand on tiptoe, struggling to reach the smaller totes filled with the kids' old school projects. I feel the ladder teeter a bit and just crawl on top of the washer before I fall to the floor.

Now that I'm at this level I see something stuffed and shoved to the back and in between two old boxes. I reach my hand in the crevice and pull out my old and tattered Bonnie the bunny.

She's wearing a purple dress with a cream lace collar, and bloomers. (Thanks to Cecil's sewing skills) As a finishing touch, Cecil tied pink ribbons around the soft, floppy ears. Bonnie was a well-loved toy, her velveteen nose has rubbed away, her left eye is loose, her body's stuffing a little wonky looking.