CHAPTER SEVEN

The seventh chapter of "Phoenix Parker"

7

Killing them instantly. Killing them instantly. Killing. Them. Instantly. Those words kept repeating over and over again in my head. Danny picked up Olive and Lizzy and dropped them off at their houses. Then he drove me to his house. His dad came up to hug me. I guess he knew. I was quiet the whole ride back. I didn’t cry, I didn’t sniffle, I was just . . . silent.

I was over at Danny’s house so much they even had a room for me. It’s decorated with light pink and baby blue everything. The pillows on my king-sized, heart-shaped bed were light pink and the blanket was a fluffy, solid baby blue. There was a white make-up table and a baby blue stool. The outer painting of the mirror connected to the vanity matched the stool. The walls were painted a soft pink. Tim, Danny’s dad, had the whole room decorated and painted specifically for me. He treated me like I was his daughter.  

Danny’s mom left when he was eight, so his dad never ended up having more kids after Danny and Dana. His older sister, who was in college. My room was right next to Dana’s. Danny’s room was right across from mine. Tim’s room was on the first floor, all of ours were on the third floor, the butler’s room was on the second floor, and the other bedroom was vacant and on the second floor. Made up specifically for guests. They throw a lot of parties. Tim has a lot of friends, and so do we, so having a huge house was good for parties. Danny having a cool dad also helped. 

While Tim was hugging me, he asked me if there was anyone related to me that could look after me. I told him my Maw Maw. She practically raised me anyways, I was always up at her house when I was little.   

The next day, Maw Maw moved in with me. Danny and Tim helped. When we were done, Tim put his hand on my shoulder and looked down at me. (Tim’s about 3 inches shorter than Danny, who’s 6’2, but still kinda tall to me. He looks like an older version of Danny). “If there’s anything you need buttercup, you know me and Danny are right down the street, and you let me know.” He hugged me tight one last time before he left. “Alright kid, I love ya.” I slowly nodded my head.

“Ditto,” I could barely get out.   

3 years went by and I couldn’t even get out of bed on my birthday. Then, my 19th birthday hit, and Danny and Olive dragged me out of bed and we celebrated my 19th living it up! Hitting dance clubs, jumping out of planes, and just, living life to the fullest. When I came home, I hung my purse up, took my heels off, and started to tell Maw Maw how my birthday went.  

“It was the best birthday ever! Maw Maw, you should’ve been there, it was so . . .” I turned my head and looked over at her. Maw Maw was slumped over in her chair, paler than I’ve ever seen her, eyes half-open with Wheel of Fortune playing on T.V. Tears started to sting my eyes, I banged my head on the wall and slowly sunk to the floor. I dragged my phone off the table and called Danny.  

I sniffled, “Daniel.” I whimpered and huffed.  

“I’m getting in my car right now. I’ll be there in 2 seconds.” His tone was serious. He didn’t even have to ask what was wrong. He knows when I call him Daniel, there’s something up. I put down the phone and started sobbing, harder than I’ve ever sobbed before.

Not even a minute later, the doorbell rang. I walked to the door and looked in the mirror, my mascara was all over my cheeks and my eyes were red. My bangs were a mess and I looked awful. But at that moment I didn’t give a flying flup. Maw Maw was dead. And I couldn’t get her back. 

“I’m here, Brownie. I’m here. I love you. I’m here for you. I’m here.” His voice was soft and warm. Comforting. His smell, the smell that I’ve been smelling all night, was intoxicating. He was standing at the front door, staring down at me intently with those green eyes. I immediately walked into him, shoving my face into his shirt, breathing in his familiar scent. He stroked my hair while I sobbed on him. He looked over and saw Maw Maw, then he broke out in tears. We held each other tight and sobbed. He stayed over that night, we sat on the couch and I was under his arm, sniffling. Watching my favorite movie “Everything, Everything" until we fell asleep. 

Maw Maw was the only adult female figure in Danny’s life since his mom left. She taught him right from wrong, how to treat a girl, and how to cook. And somehow, he’s a better cook than me. His sweet potato souffle is AMAZING and his Zuppa Toscana (fancy potato soup) is to DIE FOR and don’t even get me started on his 5-cheese macaroni. His food is filled with flavors and it’s just . . . SO GOOD! 

Oh, back to Maw Maw. She was just the sweetest person in the world. She almost always had dinner cooked for me when I got home from school, but with her mind going, it just wasn’t the same. She would always call me Little Missy Maxine, ‘cause I looked like my mom when she was seventeen. Maw Maw actually thought I was my mom. She would ask me how school was and how it was going with James, who’s my father. I hated having to tell her that I’m Phoenix and that James and Max died in a car crash because it brought back the memory of seeing their car, crushed down like the cars at a monster truck rally, blood splattered on the white paint coat. My parents . . . you could barely see the remnants of their bodies; it was so horrific. When Maw Maw passed, we had a celebration of her life. We had lots of fried chicken, sweet tea, sweet potatoes, and various other fried foods that Danny and I helped cook. As well as a veggie tray for the vegans that were Maw Maw’s friends. That’s what she would’ve wanted. I’m never going to stop missing Maw Maw. I loved her more than anything. I thought about sitting in her lap as a little girl, asking her to tell me stories about her life. 

She lived a full life, she married my Pop Pop when they were 18, straight out of high school. Those two were love birds since the 8th grade, and they were together for fifty years! Pop-pop passed when I was young, I don’t remember much about him, but Maw Maw would tell me stories of how much of a romantic he was, of how when he had his friends send her on a trip, they would each have a letter reminding her of where they had their firsts, the first place they talked, their first kiss, their first date, all of their firsts, and at the end when she finally got to him, he got down on one knee and popped the question. I always loved that story. Now I’ll never get to hear it again.