CHAPTER ONE
I closed my eyes, leaned my head against the plane window, and let out a big sigh. We were airborne. It was the end of a week of hell and I couldn’t be happier to leave my life behind.
“That sounded awfully serious coming from someone so young,” said the lady beside me. “First time on a plane?”
I turned to look at my seat mate. The woman had super short grey hair and was peering at me from over her glasses. She had a book open on her lap. Her expression exuded maternal warmth.
“First time going trans-Atlantic. It’s not the flight, though.” “No?”
“Careful, if you get me talking, I might not shut up.” I turned back to the window, my warped reflection mirrored my movement. “I talk too much. Or so I’m told.”
The lady was silent for a moment. “We’ve got a long flight ahead of us. Why are you headed to Venice?”
“I got an au pair position. Two little boys. I’ll be there all summer.”
“Well,” she said, her eyebrows lifting. “That sounds like the perfect experience for someone your age.”
“Yeah, I’m super excited about it.”
“Then why so glum?”
I chewed my lip. Shame heated my cheeks and to my dismay, tears pricked behind my eyelids. What was it about a kind stranger that made me want to dump out all my problems?
“I screwed up.”
“How very human of you.”
“But, I hate being a stereotype,” I blurted. “You’re a stereotype?”
I tugged on the end of my fiery red ponytail. “I’m a redhead.” “And?”
“And, I have a temper. I’m a redhead, with a temper. Do you think it’s true? That red hair comes with a temper?”
“Well, they say stereotypes exist for a reason, that there’s always a thread of truth in them. A hair, if you will.” She waggled her eyebrows.
“Very punny.”
“Thank you. But no, I think we’ve all got a temper somewhere under the surface. Maybe it’s harder for some of us to control, but that just comes with practice. And breathing.” She held up a manicured finger. “Breathing helps a lot.” She closed her book and tucked it into the seat pocket in front of her. “What was this horrifying screw-up?”
I twisted my headphone cord around my thumb. “I have two brothers. R.J. and Jack. Normally, we get along pretty good. But Jack the younger one he was pushing my buttons all week. He broke the clasp on my luggage, dropped chocolate on the couch which I then sat in and stained my favourite jeans, and then he hid my passport and laughed while I tore my hair out looking for it for three days.”
“How frustrating.”
I nodded. “Seriously. So three nights ago, after dinner, Dad told Jack it was his turn to do the dishes, but he went to play video games instead. I didn’t notice at first because I went to pack. But then I came into the kitchen and everything was still a disaster. My mom had gone to bed with a headache and Dad was in the garage with R.J. I lost it. I was already so fed up that I just blew up.” I paused, and my heart pounded as I relived the moment.
“What did you do?”
“I barged into his room and...” I took a breath and put my hands to my cheeks. My face felt like it was burning up. My voice hitched. “I kicked his controller out of his hands and grabbed the back of his neck, pretty hard. I picked him up and shoved him toward the door, yelling at him to pull his weight.” I stopped and closed my eyes against the awful memory of what came next.
The lady waited in silence.
“I didn’t mean to...” I cleared my throat. “He slipped on some paper. His room is always such a disaster. He fell. I mean, we both fell. But he hit the doorjamb. The sound of it... the crack...” I shuddered.
“Was he okay?”
“He hit it with his face.” She grimaced.
“He bit through his bottom lip, chipped his front tooth, and got a black eye.” I rubbed my face, trying to wipe away the memory. “There was a lot of blood. I thought I was going to be sick. Not from the blood, well maybe partly, but I just...”
“You felt horrible.”
I nodded and looked out the window into the black nothing. “I still do. My parents hit the roof. They told me I had to cancel Venice.”
“But, you’re here. So what happened?”
I turned back to her kind face. “Jack. He can be a real brat, but he’s also one of the most forgiving people I know. He knew I was sorry. I didn’t eat for two days. Which is really unlike me. He got my parents to change their minds. He even owned up to terrorizing me earlier in the week.”
“Sounds like a good kid.” “Yeah, he is. Better than me.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
“How good can I be if I can’t rein in my temper and I end up hurting people?”
“Well, Jack forgives you. Sounds like your parents do, too. Why not forgive yourself. Wipe the slate clean, and use this summer to figure yourself out? You’re an au pair, now. What a perfect opportunity to practice patience and control, right?”
“Right.” In theory.
“Put the past behind you. Learn from it, and move forward. We all make mistakes. Resolve to be better.”
My stomach clenched at the memory of Jack’s bloody face. I crossed my arms and blew out a breath. “I will.”
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