Mom made Jonah this way with me. She told Jonah every time we left the house together that I was his responsibility, his soul mate, and that he had to take good care of me. She used to tell us stories of my birth, how I didn’t cry when I was born. She believes it’s because I was happy to be here, that I was supposed to be here, with Jonah. She told us I had severe colic, and that I cried constantly in pain until Jonah sat beside my cot and stroked my tummy. She was convinced only his presence would soothe me. Jonah loved hearing those stories and took them all to heart, which made life difficult for me. He was over-protective and mean to anyone who wanted to play with me, which meant when he wasn’t around I, spent a lot of time on my own.
“It’s a small truck for removals, honey,” Dad said, chomping down on a piece of toast and washing it down with black coffee that made his kisses smell like he ate the stuff straight from the jar. I remember bouncing on my seat trying to look over them out the window, but Mom blocked the view.
“It doesn’t matter how big the truck is, as long as we get rid of that awful Keith. I hate that I have to look at him every day.”
Keith Moore had always lived across from us. The house used to belong to his wife, Marie; it was left to her in her folks’ will. She married Keith just before I was born but Mom always had something to say whenever she saw the duo.
“HER MOTHER WOULD TURN IN HER GRAVE IF SHE KNEW HER DAUGHTER FISHED AT THE BOTTOM OF THE POOL AND SCRAPED THE DIRT OFF THE BOTTOM.”
“HE ONLY MARRIED HER FOR THE HOUSE SO HE CAN MOCK US.”
“WHY CAN’T HE JUST OVERDOSE ALREADY?”
Marie was a quiet woman who wore huge sunglasses to cover up the bruises on her face. One day I woke early, anxious for the first day of school, and saw her loading her car with suitcases in a hurry before getting in the car and driving away. I never saw her again. I overheard Dad telling Mom she was in New York now and was never coming back. Mom was thrilled, hoping it meant Keith would have to move, but he didn’t. She left him the house and everything inside but her clothes. Dad had tried to help her when he saw she had new bruises but she was terrified of her husband; even I could sense it, and I never knew much about the emotion until I got older.
“Well, I’ll find out what’s happening today. Now kiss me, I have to go to work.”
My nose scrunched, knowing she would be getting a coffee kiss, and I’d be next.
After Dad left for work, Mom told me to go play outside while she spoke to Jonah. I’d been out in the yard for five minutes. I’d just buckled my roller skates into place when the removal van pulled away giving me a full view of the Moore’s house, and on the top step stood a boy. My heart did a funny flip; I’ve been searching for that same feeling for the last ten years but I’ve never felt the impact of another’s soul like I did that day. I still feel it when I think of the moment I first saw him. I revisit the memory just to touch the feeling, if only for a fleeting moment.
Light blond hair lay in chaos over his head, drooping low into the clearest blue eyes I’d ever seen. I couldn’t move, and when he noticed me, time appeared to stop. I would have believed my heart stopped beating in that moment if I hadn’t felt it frantically pounding in my chest.
Ten years old, but I knew what was happening went beyond our innocence. Age didn’t matter; it was fate. It was souls realigning and engaging each other.
Mom talked about soul mates my whole life. She believed that soul mates didn’t have to be your husband or wife, but you could find them in a friend or sibling, and she constantly told Jonah I was his and he had to look after me. HOW WRONG SHE WAS.
A shadow fell over my body and the boy’s eyes came into focus as he said, “You smell so sweet. Like coconut cake. Have you been baking?”
I couldn’t speak for a minute, but he grinned down at me then took my hands in his and helped me to stand on my skates.
“I’m Dalton. I just moved in with my uncle.”
“I’m Jonah,” came the booming voice of my brother, breaking our connection by tugging my hands from Dalton’s. “She’s my sister and she’s only ten.”
Dalton’s eyes bulged slightly. He stepped away from me and I hated my brother in that moment. He was thirteen and going through a phase where he was beginning to date girls, so he thought all boys thought about girls in the same way he did. As playthings.
Jonah and Dalton stood at the same height, and I would have guessed Dalton was the same age as Jonah, but age doesn’t matter when it comes to fate, and in a few years that gap wouldn’t seem so glaring.
When my Dad came home and informed Mom our street had gained a Moore instead of losing one, and the reason he was there, she forbid both Jonah and I to have anything to do with the new boy. Jonah wasn’t one for following rules, and I followed his lead. There was nothing that would keep me from Dalton. I was infatuated.
Things got better for me when Dalton moved in across the street. He and Jonah got on brilliantly and eventually Jonah trusted Dalton around me and let me tag along with them when they went out on their bikes, or swimming in the lake. We were a trio and I loved it, because even that young, I loved Dalton Moore more than I loved anything. He made me laugh with his cute humor and mannerisms. He was caring and gentle, with a beautiful nature. Generous and gracious was part of Dalton’s daily routine. Despite how rude my Mom could be, he always had a smile and a polite word for her.
He worked hard in school and was a huge hockey fan. He played for our school team and took it insanely seriously. That was his dream - to leave the Moore name behind him and have a professional hockey career. He was good enough for that, too. Jonah also played on the team but was more a relaxed player, skipping practices, and trying to encourage Dalton to do the same, but Dalton was extremely focused. When he wasn’t consumed with practice he spent all of his time with us, and I craved his company. When I wasn’t around him for a long period of time, I became sullen and lonely, which I know isn’t healthy, but it was just the way he made me feel when I was around him. He was like the sun, and I was a flower waiting to bloom in his presence.
There were times when I wasn’t allowed to go with them on some of the boy trips, and it felt like torture. My hormones in disarray, it made me mad at Jonah for making me a loner. I should have had girlfriends to do things with, but I didn’t. I had those two and no one else.
Jonah used to sneak out at night and climb the big tree outside Dalton’s bedroom window. I hated when he did that. I could see Dalton’s room from my own and we spent many nights writing messages to each other by holding up pieces of paper with words written in bold black marker, but on the nights Jonah climbed that tree, moments later they would both climb back down and be gone for the night. I never knew where they went or what they got up to, but I was jealous I wasn’t involved.
“YOU’RE YOUNGER THAN US, ALEX. THERE’S THINGS YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND YET, AND THINGS I DON’T WANT YOU TO KNOW ABOUT.”
Dalton’s words hurt because I knew what those things were. Lisa Marie made it her mission to let the whole female population of our school know she used to meet up with Dalton, that she was his girlfriend and they did things, things I was too young to do for him. It slashed at me like a whip every time I heard the rumors. One night I saw her outside his house. She was giggling, trying to climb the tree up to his room - the tree he had been teaching me to climb. My heart felt heavy in my chest. Emotions are so intensified when you’re young. It felt like the world would end on so many occasions through my awkward years, waiting to be old enough for Dalton. He angrily shouted down at her from his window, and then seconds later appeared at his door, hurrying her inside. I hid behind my curtain when I felt his eyes scan my window. I was twelve and heartbroken. My soul suffered so much in the early years; it was scratching to tear from my body and rush to him. I wanted to be old enough for him. I would have let him do anything he wanted with me, old enough or not. I was his and he mine.
I’d asked him if the rumors were true, and he stroked my cheek and laughed.
“DON’T BELIEVE EVERYTHING GIRLS TALK ABOUT, ALEX, BUT BELIEVE ME WHEN I TELL YOU THAT WHEN YOU’RE OLD ENOUGH, I’M GOING TO MARRY YOU.”
My spirit felt lighter at his words but soon grew heavy when Jonah walked up behind me, and Dalton snatched his hand back so fast it was as if my flesh rebuked him. His friendship with Jonah was more important to him than us being together. I’d waited so patiently and feared I’d always be waiting for Dalton Moore to really see me.
I made it my mission to learn how to climb that damn tree, and to never let Jonah stop me from marrying Dalton Moore.
I quickly shake away the memories trying to drown me and slide the windows wide to get some air in this place. All the furniture is the same, only more worn. How could we have left him like this?
I notice one of Dad’s sweaters on the back of his armchair and a tear leaks onto my cheek. My feet carry me across the room and I pick it up, inhaling his scent. It smells the same as he always did. This was going to be harder than I first thought. I wish I’d taken Leon up on his offer to come with me. I met him when I moved into my apartment building; he was my neighbor, and extremely loud. I’d put up with the music for the first couple of nights, but by night three I was going to tear my hair out. I banged so hard on his wall that he came to my door carrying the broken picture that had fallen at the vibrations of my fist. My hair was all over the place and I was wearing odd PJs with no bra underneath, and I only had on one sock. The smirk on his face made my blood boil. I was sleep deprived and exhausted.