One Year Ago

                We sat in silence only hearing the faint hum of the engine and the occasional thump from the trunk as boxes in the back tumbled. Neither of us had spoken a word for the past half hour, not because we didn’t want to, but simply because we didn’t know how to. We were practically strangers after all.

                “The trees are pretty,” his gruff voice broke the silence. It was autumn, in the mountains, which meant that the forest was displaying a colorful array of oranges, yellows, and reds as all the trees prepared to shed their leaves for the upcoming winter.

                I nodded in agreement. They were pretty, in fact, I had become so used to their vibrant array each year that I failed to notice just how pretty they were. I forgot that he wasn’t used to the scenery.

                He drummed his fingertips against the wheel to the faint beat coming from the car radio, trying to fill the silence. He was as uncomfortable in it as I was, but neither of us knew what to say.

                It had been months since we last had a conversation that consisted of anything more than passing comments strangers on the street would have for each other. It had been even longer since we had both been in the same space together.

                “Are you still singing?” he shot a glance in my direction. His eyes begged me to answer.

                “Sorta,” I shrugged my shoulders. I should say more. I should tell him how I had auditioned for a local competition at school, how I nearly won it. I would leave out the part about how I probably would have won it had I not choked on the last line. I wanted to tell him, but I couldn’t muster up the words.

                “You know,” he glanced in my direction with a goofy smirk displayed, “I used to be in a band.”

                I raised an eyebrow, “Yeah? What sort of band?” I already knew the answer to it, classic rock. But to throw a dog a bone.

                “Classic rock, we were pretty good too. I played the keyboard. Your grandmother told me that you were playing guitar. Maybe we could jam out together sometime.”

                Jam out. The innermost snarky teenager inside of me resisted the urge to cringe at his word choice. He’s trying, you should too. It had been the better part of a decade since we had been alone together and neither of us was the same person. We both had some learning to do.

                “So, the guitar?” he questioned, breaking the silence.

                “Oh, um, not really. I mean she bought me one, but mom would never let me take any lessons and she didn’t like it when I tried to teach myself. She said it was too distracting.” I shrugged it off as if it didn’t matter, but I always felt like if I was able to work with someone that could fill in the gaps for me that I would have been pretty good at it. It was just another way for my mother to make sure I was under her control. The less social interaction I had the better in her eyes.

                My response was met with silence. I noticed the slight whiting of his knuckles as his grip tightened on the steering wheel. We had avoided the subject of my mother since he picked me up, it was something neither of us wanted to discuss.

                “Maybe I could show you a little bit of what I know,” he said after a few more moments of silence passed.

                “I thought you played the keyboard?”

                “I did, mostly. But my dad, your grandfather, played guitar. Do you remember him?”

                “Not really,” I answered truthfully. I wouldn’t have been able to point the man out in a room if he were right in front of me. The only thing I knew about him was what my mother had told me growing up and that was that he wasn’t a good man. But what she told me wasn’t something I would put much stock in. She tended to stretch the truth or just fully reconstruct it especially if it allowed her to be seen in a better light.

                “You were young the last time he saw you, maybe four or five. I’m not surprised that you don’t remember him.” He glanced in my direction, and I could tell that he wanted to say something more but was unsure of how to proceed.

                He cleared his throat working up the courage to say whatever it is he wanted. “I know this transition is going to be a change for you, and I don’t want to pressure you, but your grandfather will be here visiting in a few days, and I know he would love to see you. He’s asked about you.” He paused, glancing in my direction. “Your brothers and I went as saw him a couple of months ago and they all had a blast.”

                Brothers. That word caught me by surprise. He and my stepmother had been married for quite some time now, but this was the first time the word brother hadn’t been used singularly when talking about my life. I didn’t know if I would even recognize them when I saw them, or if they me.

                My father had married his now wife on a whim, some have even referred to it as a shotgun wedding as a couple short weeks later they shared the news of her pregnancy. Just like my father, she had two children from a previous marriage. Boys, one only a few months older than me and the other a couple of years. I had never thought of them as brothers. It was nothing personal, we had just never really been given the chance to come together as a family. Until now at least.

                “You know what now that I think about it, it would probably be too much too fast. We can set something up with him once you’re settled.”

                “Oh no, it’s not that. Sorry, I was just thinking about something. I would love to see him,” I responded with a reassuring smile. I appreciated that he was thinking about my comfort and what I would want.

                “What were you thinking about, if you don’t mind me asking?” I could hear the hesitation in his voice. He was tiptoeing oh so carefully around me, not wanting to overstep in any way and make this drive any more uncomfortable than it needed to be.

                “How weird it's going to be to have brothers and a sister now,” I answered truthfully, seeing no reason to not.

                He shot a puzzled look in my direction.

                “I’ve never really been around any of them except for Nathan. It’s just going to be weird having them around.” I explained further. Nathan was my younger brother. Our parents had Nathan shortly before divorcing. He had made the move to my father’s a few months ago, I was too scared at the time to make that change.

                “I never really noticed, but I guess you’re right. It’ll be a transition for us all. Izzy is excited, she’s been telling all her friends at school.”

                Izzy was my half-sister. I hadn’t seen her since she was a newborn. I was surprised to hear about her excitement. “How old is she now?” I was ashamed to admit that I had no clue.

                “She’s almost 8 and going through a princess phase. Forewarning she’s fully expecting her older sister to play dress up with her, and she doesn’t take no for an answer. The boys are excited for you to take their place at the tea parties. I believe they are too cool to continue wearing play dresses and tiaras.” he chuckled. I could hear the admiration in his voice, and I couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of jealousy. She got the father that I never had the opportunity to have. He and my mother made that decision for me out of their own selfishness.

                “I’m excited to see her,” I responded through a yawn. I hadn’t slept much the night before from the nerves of seeing my father again after so long.

                “We’ve still got a few hours left of traveling, why don’t you try to get some shut-eye before we get there?” he suggested picking up on my yawn.

                I nodded; it wasn’t a bad idea. I’m sure I had a long night of catching up awaiting me once I arrived.

                “Alex?” He called my name. I glanced in his direction. “I’m glad you chose to come down here with us. I think it will be good for our family.”

                I shot a small smile in his direction before laying my head against the window. He sounded so sure that this would be good and I truly hoped it would be.