Lost & Found

Lisa

Lisa’s POV

    As I closed the back door and my eyes adjusted to the sunlight, I saw my siblings dispersed all around the yard. Troy and Marc had a foam football and were playing keep-away with Charlie, our dog. Carter was trying to take a piece of rope away from Onyx, our foster pup. Ashley and Alyssa were picking flowers along the wooded line of the property. I could see the dozens of flowers they had already collected on the picnic table and, next to those, a handful of flower crowns.

    Flower crowns. For some reason those held some vague memory in the back of my brain. I remember a short girl with a flower crown atop her head. She had blue eyes and a smile that could easily turn any frown upside down. I quickly shook the image away, thinking it was nothing. I glanced downwards and saw a shadow that wasn’t my own behind me. Our parents weren't home, so only one person came to mind.

    “Nice try, Lindsay,” I said as I turned around.

    “Aww, you’re no fun, Lisa!” my other sister, Lindsay, complained.

   “I’m more fun than you are! And sneakier, too,” I teased. She groaned and rolled her eyes before going down to join the twins. I just laughed at her immaturity.

    Lindsay has always been the most childish, given the exception of the three actual children. She was definitely the troublemaker when we were in high school. She would keep our parents up late worrying when she snuck out the window or would get her phone taken away when she stayed up past midnight texting instead of finishing her already-late homework.

    Then there was Troy. Only a year older than I was, he still acted like a dad. Despite buying his own apartment last year, he loved coming over and torturing all of us with his terrible dad jokes. On top of his dad act, he always has a cool, level head on his shoulders, even when everyone insists on making his life difficult. I can't remember ever seeing him lose his temper over anything, even when Mom and Dad made him babysit the then-young twins instead of letting him go out with his friends.

    After Lindsay came Marc, easily a stranger to his classmates. If I’m being honest, I don’t think anyone in the family knows him that well either. He doesn’t talk much about school (or anything, really), and I never ask. He’s the kind of kid who would rather hang out in the virtual world than go out into the real world, yet he never once considered joining the Gaming Club at school. Doesn’t like connecting with live people much, I guess.

    Ashley and Alyssa are the pair of twins. Attached at the hip but very different. Ashley would be texting her friends and inviting them over while Alyssa looks for a quiet place to read. It's not that Alyssa is without friends or Ashley is friendlier, they've just always been that way. They have their moments, but generally, this is what I expect when I wake up in the morning.

    Lastly, there’s little Carter. Already turning six, and definitely going to make a name for himself. He was so excited when he could sing the alphabet before any of his kindergarten classmates could. He's already building Lego cities with skyscrapers and made-up businesses, all so he can destroy it all with his fuzzy bear-zilla.

    It's hard for a lot of people to realize we were all raised under one roof, the same two parents. Sometimes, I don't even think our parents believe they raised seven wildly different personalities using the same methods each time, but they did. Chaos just became a regular visitor, noise became a permanent resident. I love it all. Every day brings something new to the table.

    “Hey, Lisa!” Troy shouted from the yard. I turned to him and he continued, “Grab two Cokes from the fridge, please!”

    I rolled my eyes but, since I was feeling nice, went inside. When I opened the fridge, an old photo album toppled down and landed at my feet. What it was doing on top of the fridge, I don’t know, but I picked it up and couldn’t help but look at the pictures. The first several pages were of all us kids on vacations, playing in the yard, some baby photos, old school pictures, and some Christmas cards from years past. There were numerous individual pictures of everybody. Except me.

    I didn’t start seeing pictures with me in them until I found some family photos from 2013 at Troy’s twentieth birthday. It immediately struck me as weird. I put the photo album back and grabbed the two drinks. Upon getting back outside, Troy and Marc were walking up to the porch, Charlie bounding behind them.

    “Keep that up and I bet you’ll make the team next year,” Troy commented, obviously out of breath. He tossed the foam football back to Marc.

    Marc scoffed and nervously turned the ball over in his hands. “Yeah, right. Because playing Monkey in the Middle with a Nerf football and a dog is definitely going to prepare me for being tackled by a 200-lb linebacker.”

   I frowned but Troy gave him a supportive pat on the back. Marc gave half a smile before heading inside, taking his drink with him. I handed Troy the second and leaned on the porch railing.

    “Hey,” I started, eyes wandering. Charlie shot up and shoved his big Husky head under my hand. I knew he wouldn't stop, but couldn't focus long enough to give him more than two pats on the head.

    Troy popped open the can and took a loud gulp from it. Ignoring my initial remark, he said, “Thanks.”

   “No problem,” I replied, though I couldn’t stop thinking about the photo album. After a long pause, I asked, “Think you could answer a question for me?”

    Slightly confused, he squinted at me and said, “I could try.”

    “Do you remember anything from when we were little? Like, ages five to ten?”

    “Um…” Troy scratched the back of his head, trying to remember anything.

    “It’s okay if you don’t,” I assured him, not wanting him to think too much of it. “I was just wondering.”

    “Sorry, Lise, can’t say I do,” he told me, an apologetic look in his eyes. “Why? What made you think of it?”

    “Nothing,” I said, mind already moving on to the next possible idea. He was about to retort when we were interrupted by a shout. We looked up and saw Carter on the ground, hands clasped around his knee. As we headed over, I still thought about the photo album. I probably wasn’t going to get much sleep tonight.