Flock (The Ravenhood)

“Because I don’t know him.”

“So, when do you start your job?”

“My shifts will be from three to eleven, but I’ve got orientation tomorrow.”

“Call me when you get off. I’ll let you unpack.”

It strikes me when we disconnect that I’ll be stuck with the silence in the room, of the house, and utterly alone. Roman didn’t even have the decency to meet me here to get me settled.

“Cee?” Christy’s voice sounds as uncertain as I feel.

“Uh, shit. Okay, I’m feeling it now.” I open the French doors that lead onto my private balcony and stare down at the pristine grounds. In the distance is nothing but a blanket of the greenest grass cut in a diagonal shaped pattern, beyond is a thick forest of trees that surround a cell tower. Closer to the house is a well-kept garden that screams southern opulence. Wisteria covers several trellises that canopy statuesque fountains. Hedges covered in trimmed honeysuckle trickle over sporadic fencing. The scent of several blooms wafts to my nose as the breeze hits me in hushed welcome. Plush seating is placed strategically throughout the manicured garden, which I decide will be my reading nook. The large, sparkling pool looks inviting, especially due to the budding summer heat, but I feel too ill at ease as a new resident of the palace to think of it for personal use. “God, this is weird.”

“You’ve got this.”

Her nervous tone is unsettling, and we’re both unsure at this point, which instills more fear in me.

“I hope so.”

“A little over a year and you’re home. You’re almost nineteen, Cee, if you hate it, you can leave.”

“True.” It is the truth, but my agreement with Roman is a different story. If I go back on spending my time at the plant, I lose a fortune, a fortune that could erase my mother’s debt and set her up comfortably for the rest of her life. I can’t—won’t—do that to her. She’s worked herself stupid to care for me.

Christy reads my hesitation.

“This isn’t on you. It was her job to raise you, Cee. That’s the obligation of a parent, which you should never feel obligated to repay.”

It’s true, and I know it, but as I survey Roman’s lifeless palace, I find myself missing her more than ever. Maybe it’s the distancing and treatment from my father that makes me feel such gratitude for her. Either way, I want to care for her. “I know my mother loves me,” I say more for myself than for Christy. Mom’s withdrawal, from life, from me, after all our years together was a cruel and confusing surprise.

“Well, I for one, wouldn’t blame you if you liberated yourself. I love your mom and all, but they both seem worthless at this point.”

“Roman is tolerable, strict, but we managed a few summers. Well, we managed to avoid each other for a few summers. I’m not looking to bond, just survive. This place feels…cold.”

“You’ve never been there?”

“No, not this house. He didn’t build it until after I stopped coming for the summers. I think he lives mostly out of his condo in Charlotte.” Across from my bedroom door a few feet away sits another. I open it, relieved to see it’s a guest room. To my left at the top of the stairs is a mezzanine overlooking the bottom floor foyer leading to a long corridor with more closed doors. “It’s going to be like living in a museum.”

“I hate this.” She lets out a sigh, which is more like a whine, and I can feel her bitterness. We’ve been friends since middle school and haven’t been separated a day since we met. I don’t know how to do life without her, and quite frankly, I don’t want to. But for my mom’s well-being, I will. A little over a year in a sleepy town nestled in the middle of the Blue Ridge Mountains and I’m free. I can only hope the time flies.

“Just find yourself a distraction. Preferably one with a penis.”

“That’s your solution?” I make my way back into my bedroom and onto the balcony.

“You would know if you would give just one the time of day.”

“I have, and you saw how that worked out.”

“Those were boys, find a man. Just wait, girl. You’re going to tear that town up when they get a look at you.”

“I couldn’t give a shit right now,” I stare at the spectacular mountain view just beyond the private forest. “I’m officially living on the opposite side of the coin. This is so weird.”

“I can only imagine. Chin up. Call me after orientation tomorrow.”

“’K.”

“Love you.”

CURSING LIKE A SAILOR, I park in the last row at the plant and quickly make my way through a sea of cars into the lobby. The last thing I need is a lecture on timeliness after a stale and uneventful dinner with my father last night. That hour or so I wa