yours.

[53] Miles

I'm sad to see Jasper go, but I know he can't stay forever. I walk him out once the sun has set, just as my mom arrives home with Lesley in tow. They changed up the plans, I guess, I think to myself, watching my mother's black Tesla pull into the driveway. Now that I'm out of the way.

I make my way back inside my house, figuring it's time for me to start prepping dinner. It was fun last night, making a meal for my family -- something I really want to get back into. But when I step into the kitchen, I see I'm not alone.

Chelsea is standing at one of the counters near the far wall, staring down at a piece of mail. I come up beside her and peek over her shoulder teasingly, but my joke dies on my tongue as I see what the mail she's reading is. It's an envelope, addressed by our dad.

"Is it... another check?" I ask, even though I know it's not. His child support checks always come during the first week of the month, and we're already well into July.

Needlessly, Chelsea shakes her head. "No. Those envelopes are never this thick." 

I step into the space beside her and stare at the paper with her. There are endless possibilities of what could be inside -- a postcard, or printed photos, or money -- but I know it's wrong to have hope like this. He's never sent anything other than the bare minimum after ditching us, and I'm sure this time is no different. And besides, the envelope is addressed to Chelsea, not me. Meaning, of course, its contents aren't meant for me. Still, I can't stop myself from asking, "Are you gonna open it?"

Chelsea turns the envelope over in her hands, tapping the sealed edge with a finger. "I don't know. Should I?"

"I mean, if you want."

She grins up at me. "You just want to know what's inside, don't you?" she asks knowingly.

I nod, and her smile dims as she looks back down at it. "I just... I don't now what he could send, you know? He hasn't seen me since I was twelve."

"You're really no different," I sigh, leaning against the counter. "Still smart, still annoying, you've still got a stick up your--"

"Okay, no. No, I don't," she snaps, and I back off, smirking. "And that's not what I meant. I just... nothing he can say or do or send is going to make up for six years of not being here for me. He's missed everything, all the proms and homecomings and boyfriends I've had, not to mention Lesley's entire life..." She's getting heated now, and the red tips of her ears serve to prove it. "Maybe I shouldn't open it. I shouldn't give him the satisfaction."

I stare at the return address on the envelope, which I didn't really notice before. My dad's new home. Where he probably has a new wife and new kids and a new life that was just worth so much more than his old one. Worth so much more than us. I swallow, and the simple action hurts. "He'd never know."

"But I would." We look at each other, and I get where she's coming from, I really do. But the suspense is too much for me. I reach across her for the envelope, and she holds it away from me.

"What is with the keep away games today?" I grumble, lunging for it again.

Chelsea swats me away, still gripping the piece of mail. "Okay, okay, fine. I'll open it. But only because I'm curious, too." She reaches for the sealed flap on the back--

And then Lesley comes romping in from the garage, my mom following after her. "We're home!" Lesley announces.

Chelsea turns to look at me, shrugging casually. "Oh well," she sighs dramatically, "looks like you have to start on dinner. I'll open this--" She brandishes the envelope. "--after."