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The problem with moving boxes was that they seemed to multiply like roaches.
It seemed like for every cardboard carton Sonya delved into, there were two more waiting for her, and then two more…
There had been a time, almost two decades before, when she probably could have packed everything she owned in a couple of duffle bags and been more than content. Of course, that had been before. Before the interrealm war, before the world had seemed to shift on its axis, before marriage and a child had made things so heartbreakingly complicated.
Before they had fucked things up so badly they couldn’t put them right. No matter how much she regretted, they couldn’t.
So here Sonya sat, in the living room of her newly assigned bungalow, sorting through boxes, and trying to put her life back together. Cassie was at school, and she had opted to go to the Venice Beach condo for the weekend to be with Johnny. The bedroom she’d picked in the new house was stacked with yet more boxes that would probably still have the packing tape on them come Christmas time. It hardly mattered. In a few weeks Cass would be leaving for the junior academy, and her daughter had made no qualms about how she felt about her mother’s choice to return to base life.
How could she explain that after everything, with the ink barely dry on the divorce papers and the tabloid rumours still raging, that being on base felt…safe and ordinary? Or maybe a way to feel like she was getting back to being normal. It was near impossible to explain to a sixteen-year-old and there was no way Sonya could talk to Johnny about trying to explain. He was barely speaking to her, and as much as it made her heart ache, she understood why.
The box Sonya was currently unpacking held dishes, plates and cups she’d barely use given her penchant for eating at the mess hall. More to distract herself than anything, she was forcing herself to put them away anyhow. Sorting through the kitchen wear felt like a penance, and she was just willing enough to put herself through it. If for nothing but to convince herself she was moving forward.
Reaching for another plate, her fingers brushed something cool steel and she realized the bottom of the container held an assortment of items from their junk drawer. Digging, she unearthed an old bottle opener, then a container filled with takeout chopsticks. She could never bring herself to throw the extra ones sent with their meals out, and now it looked like she had enough to last her until the next armageddon. Birthday candles, duct tape, an ancient bottle of crazy glue…
And then, at the very bottom, her hand closed around an oblong object, hard to the touch, the surface slightly dented. Even before she’d pulled it out, Sonya knew what it was and she almost let it go.
One of Johnny’s sunglasses cases.
How it had wound up in the junk drawer, she’d never know, but in another life it wouldn’t have been surprising. He paid a fortune for the latest styles and the casual way he often left them around the house was enough to make Sonya’s blood pressure rise more than once.
On appearance, the leather case was pitted and slightly out of shape, obviously old enough that he had forgotten it was in there. Opening it revealed why the sunglasses inside (while still stupidly expensive) were cracked and one of the ear bands was broken. Sonya traced the edge of the frame with her thumbnail and tried to blink back the angry tears collecting in the corners of her eyes. At that moment, she was reminded how raw and unfamiliar everything felt. The small apartment felt stifling, and the urge to let herself drown in memories was a heavy weight on her chest.
Rising, she headed for the kitchen, fully intending to toss the case in the garbage can. Once there, however, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. It was too much, too soon and as angry as she was, it felt too final.
Instead, Sonya did an abrupt face and headed for the bedroom. She’d finished unpacking it that morning and the bed was freshly made, corners tight and neat. The good thing about living mostly alone was that there was no one there to see her tuck the case under the pillow on the side that would have been Johnny’s. Laying down, she stretched out on her side and closed her eyes.
Then and only then did she let herself finally cry.