Annaka

off, so I assumed she must have already gone to bed. When I got inside, they suddenly flicked on.
“Shit,” I muttered to myself. I saw Mom waiting for me.
“You know, it only takes five seconds to reply to a text,” she said. “I’ve been stressing about you.”
“Sorry. I was at Tia’s.”
“And you couldn’t have told me that?” She crossed her arms. “It’s really not that hard to communicate, Anna.” Then she came closer and smelled my breath.
“And you were drinking?”
“I….”
“Don’t lie.”
“Yes. We had one drink.”
Mom gave me a serious look for a moment, then it was followed by a sigh.
“I’ll let it go. This one time. I know the last couple days have been difficult, but don’t make this a habit, Annaka.”
I hated my full name. Mom only used it when she was upset, and this was my warning.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. It won’t happen again, all right?” I said as I tried to make my way upstairs.
“Anna, wait,” Mom called out. “We need to talk for a minute.”
My shoulders dropped. I didn’t know what else there was to talk about.
“What is it?” I asked, coming back down the stairs.
“Listen, I was talking to Lillian today…. Your grandmother
—she’s, well, she’s doing a lot worse than I thought.”
“What do you mean?”
“And I heard something happened outside earlier tonight.”
I sighed. “Yeah.” I wanted to forget that happened, but I knew I couldn’t lie to myself. “She…didn’t know who I was. Treated me like a complete stranger.”
It hurt. A lot. My eyes began to tear even thinking about it. Nan’s eyes didn’t light up the way they used to when she looked into mine. She didn’t ask me how my day was, or even wonder if we shared a past. I was a stranger to her, and it dug deep. More than I thought it would.
“I’m so, so sorry, Anna.” Mom looked at me. “I know what we spoke about on the drive, but a part of me was holding hope.” She shook her head. “I wanted you to have more time with her before this happened. I’m sorry.”
I didn’t know what to say. We had so many opportunities to return here and visit, but Mom never wanted to. Mom had Halifax as her home base when it never felt like home to me. Home was in Yarmouth, where the houses were by the shore, where a community actually felt like family, where we could rest in a field to see the stars in the sky. Yarmouth was a place of magic and nostalgia, but now it was filled with so much grief and loss. This wasn’t home anymore. I wanted to go back to Halifax, finish school, and leave the past behind, as much as it hurt.
I shook myself back to the present. “What else did you want to talk about?”
Mom paused, and then she sighed and said, “Listen, we’re going to have to get comfortable here.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What does that mean?”
“It means we have to stay here for a while.”
“What do you mean ‘a while’? I have to finish grade eleven. I was planning to get a job and save up money this summer. For university.”
“I know, I know,” she replied, putting her hands up like she was surrendering. “But we can’t always catch the curveballs. Life isn’t always as straightforward as that.”
“You mean not for me,” I retorted. “You always did what you wanted to do. I never had a say. I never had a say about moving to Halifax. I never had a say about leaving Grampy and Nan. I never had a say about any of it.” Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the long drive, but the idea of staying made me feel anxious. I loved the Yarmouth of my childhood, but with Grampy gone, and with Nan not even remembering who I am…I felt like I could barely process any of it.
“Listen, Anna, I know this is a lot—”
“It’s always a lot with you,” I growled. “It’s never anything easy.”
I stormed up the steps and made my way to the room at the end of the hallway. I opened the door to see fading yellow walls, blue blankets on the bed, and the familiar curve of the ceiling. It was the first bedroom that I ever called mine. Most nights Grampy would read to me until I fell asleep. It dawned upon me that tonight wouldn’t be one of those nights. It would be a sleepless one. I noticed a black dress lying across my bed beside my suitcase. I wish Mom didn’t feel like she had to micromanage me.
I moved my suitcase towards the closet. When I pulled open the door, I could see my name on the wall in Grampy’s handwriting. Beside my name were measurements with their corresponding years: 2007, 2008, 2009, and 2010. My frown faded when I saw it; they never erased it, never painted over it. They kept it all there. I remember Grampy was always so excited every few months to see how much I’d grown. I always wanted to be as tall as him, but I seemed to stop growing a few inches shorter than Mom. Seeing that took me away from my anger, and put a smile on my face.
I moved my suitcase into the closet and as I got further inside, I saw even more measurements.
“Wait a sec, these aren’t mine,” I said out loud.
It was my childish printing instead of Grampy’s neat script. Above the measurements I read his name in my messy writing: Clay.
Could he still be here? I wondered. As soon as I did, I tried to bury that thought. There was already so much going on, and I couldn’t carry that question on top of everything else.
I tried lying in bed but sleep was the last thing I could focus on. I couldn’t come to terms with the fact that Grampy was gone. I couldn’t admit that this house was missing a loud voice. Moonlight splashed on my