Homebound

Reunited

Ana's hiding. Well, as successfully as she can in a room full of people.

She's not afraid to admit she's being a coward. She is a chicken with a capital C, but after her brief encounter with Preston earlier, she has every right to be.

He's so intense. Being near him is just too much for her to deal with.

Add to it her internal guilt for practically erasing someone as special as Dayton from her life, and she is a mess of jitters. Listening to the stories people shared of how they remembered him broke her heart. Yes, she knew him, but only as young kids and teens. It seems like the adult version of Dayton is a stranger and that leaves her hollow inside.

She takes a small bite of the pie, her mother she figures, had placed in her hands. Instead of tasting the tartness of the cherries, she tastes the embarrassment of her interaction with Preston. She must have looked like a blubbering idiot with her stuttered hello to him. The wobbly hand shake she gave was nothing compared to the, I'm indifferent to you, hug she originally planned to give him. She just couldn't help herself. Preston always had the ability to wreck her nerves. Not to mention his touch messed with her body. Just that short grasp of her hand sent her body into overdrive. That was something she hadn't felt with either of the two boyfriends she'd had since Preston.

No wonder those relationships never went anywhere.

Deciding to give up on the pie, she weaves her way through the crowd stopping only to discard the remainder of her dessert, and steps out the back door of the Solomon's home.

She notices the yard has been mowed recently and a few of the cracked bricks that enclose it have been replaced. Her eyes travel to the mango tree that sits in the far corner and she smiles. How many times had the five of them fought for the ripest mango? Too many to count.

Stepping off the back porch, Ana makes her way toward the tree and the swing that still hangs from it's thickest branch. She runs her hand along the faded wooden seat and up the slightly frayed ropes before turning around and taking a seat. She toes off her heels and lets her feet sink into the warm grass before using them to push her into a slow but steady swing.

As she swings back and forth she allows her eyes to roam the yard while memories assault her. The sound of children laughing as younger versions of herself, her sister, and the Solomon boys played chase master or water balloon fights. The smell of freshly grilled chicken and steak during all those family barbecues they shared. Late night ghost stories while they all camped out in a tent.

She raises her head and imagines an eleven year old Dayton taunting her seven year old self saying girls couldn't climb as good as boys, then watched in surprise as she showed him that girls could by climbing up next to him. She then remembers that particular taunt landed him a trip to the hospital after he fell and broke his arm. A tear rolls down her cheek remembering how he wouldn't let anyone sign his cast before she did because he wanted an autograph from the best girl tree climber he knew. Once she did he made her promise never to climb it again because he didn't want her hurt like he had been.

That was Dayton, always challenging her but at the same time protecting her. He was like a big brother to her in every sense of the word. Especially once they got older and boys started to take interest in her. It only worsened when he and Alia began dating because he said it officially made him her big bro and no douchebag was gonna get anywhere near breathing distance of Ana. Needless to say, she hadn't much of a chance to date anyone once she was of age because Dayton or his brothers were quick to run them off.

That is, until she started dating one of them.

As if her thoughts conjured him, the back door creaks open and the man himself steps out. Even with the distance, Ana can feel his eyes on her. She notices that Preston discarded his suit jacket somewhere and has rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt. His black tie hangs loosely from his neck and his hair is a bit wild as if he had been running his fingers through it.