Moving from San Francisco, CA to Marietta, GA was a bit hard to process. Mera was ecstatic though. She jumped around as we waited in the airport, much to the chagrin of passerby’s.
“We’re moving to a new house!!” she was singing at the top of her lungs, “We’re moooooving!!”
She grabbed on to my leg and hung on.
“Mera,” I said, “You have to be quiet if you want to move to the new house.”411Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmOlZXlyC74
Her eyes went wide, and she stared up at me. She nodded quietly, and put a small finger to her lips.
“ATTENTION ALL PASSENGERS FOR FLIGHT E-13 TO ATLANTA: YOU ARE BOARDING NOW. REPEAT, PASSENGERS FOR FLIGHT E-13 TO ATLANTA, YOU ARE BOARDING NOW.”
With a relieved sigh, I picked up Mera and dragged our luggage to the boarding dock. We found our seats and I gave Mera my iPad to keep her occupied. The plane took off, and I prepared myself for the five hour flight.
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Five hours later, our plane landed in the Hartsfield-Jackson Airport in Atlanta GA. I picked up our luggage and my car, (Which had luckily survived the tornado and had been shipped along with me), and I drove out of the city. It was just like I remembered it, the Georgia Tech Building glowing in the night, IKEA, the big fountain park, and the Aquarium. Mera was asleep in the backseat, and I was glad of that. I needed time to think. Furniture had been shipped to our house ahead of time, and put in by the nice workmen, so that was the least of my worries. I was home, where my friends were. My friends that I had hurt when I had left without explanation. Beth, Victoria, and Ron. A thousand things ran through my head, all merging together and giving me a hell of a headache.411Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOEKsON57JL
I pulled into our driveway at around 11 pm. It was 3am in Cali, so I was pretty exhausted. The time difference was already taking effect.411Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgGcY0XhNU7
The house was small, two stories, with cute little shutters and a cute little front yard. There were three bedroom, two bathrooms, a large kitchen, and a big living room. A didn’t have time to explore the rest of the house. I laid Mera down in her bed, and retired to bed myself. I could feel the jet-lag already taking effect, and it soon put me to sleep on a familiar bed in an unfamiliar house, in an all-too-familiar town.
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When I woke up, something was lying next to me. No, someone. I opened my eyes groggily and looked around. A generic room; a big bed, two nightstands, a dresser, desk, chair, doors leading to who-knows-where, and in the bed next to me, a tiny person. Meredith must have snuck into my room in the middle of the night. I didn’t blame her; I wanted to sneak into someone’s room too. I sat up and pulled the blanket over Mera, and then I set out to unpack my things.
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The first three weeks of living in our new house was very uneventful, as September usually was. I had no trouble looking for a job, just a few emails to let my publishing company know that I had moved. Mera played outside a lot, the neighbor kids down the street loved her. They were a sweet family of six, with four children aged 15, 13, 11, and 10. The oldest, a girl, was extremely helpful and babysat Mera sometimes. But after three long weeks of practically nothing, I was restless. I asked out neighbors about a church we could go to, and they directed me to their home church; Stonebridge in Marietta. I consented to go.
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Worst mistake I ever made.
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The church itself was great, amazing even. But there I met three people that I had tried so hard to forget, but I just couldn’t.
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