Clarissa walked up to the sidewalk outside of house number 388 and double-checked the address on her phone. Number 388 was a one-story ranch-style home painted a light, dusty green, and with a large yard full of yellowing grass. Clarissa walked up the stone walkway to the front door, triple-checked the address, and knocked. The door flew open as soon as her knuckle touched the wood. Standing in the doorway was a tall skinny woman with medium skin, curly black hair, and lots of smile lines. “Clarissa!” Mrs. Losa cried and threw her arms open.
Clarissa stepped into the hug, and Mrs. Losa kissed her cheek. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Losa,” she said, just as she had practiced in the mirror and in her head on the drive there.
“Please, call me Nina,” Mrs. Losa said. Clarissa smiled and nodded with zero intention of actually doing that, and stepped into the house.
The inside of the house was chaos. The entryway was littered with shoes and socks discarded haphazardly on the floor. Coats piled on hooks so densely, it was impossible to tell how many there were. The furniture was bright and colorful, and none of it matched. Each room was painted a different color, and photos and artwork hung on every wall, some in frames some just taped up. People ran two and fro shouting joyfully at each other. Given how messy Nicolas was, Clarissa didn’t know how she’d expected any less, yet she still found herself surprised and overwhelmed.
Mrs. Losa must have sensed her unease, because she took her gently by the elbow and lead her into the kitchen saying, “Here, let me introduce you to people.”
In the kitchen (a room with an ugly linoleum floor that was meant to look like red bricks), a young woman Clarissa recognized as Nicolas’ younger sister piped icing onto a cake. “Clarissa,” Mrs. Losa said, “this is Donna. Donna, this is Clarissa.”
Donna put down the bag of icing and reached out a hand toward Clarissa. “Nice to meet you,” Clarissa said as she shook her hand.
“Ditto,” Donna said. When she saw that she had left icing on Clarissa’s hand she giggled, added, “Whoops!” and licked the icing off of her own fingers. Clarissa smiled and wiped the icing off her own fingers with a napkin that said “Happy Birthday!” in bright letters.
“Donna, where are all the other young people?” Mrs. Losa asked.
At that moment Clarissa felt a sharp spike of fear as she suddenly remembered that she was meeting Nicolas’ childhood friends as well as his family. At least with his family, she had spoken to them before and heard about them, but Nicolas’ old friends had remained elusive. She had brought them up once months ago, but after Nicolas changed the topic, she had let the subject die. She had found some pictures by stalking through his old social media posts, but that wasn’t much to go on.
Just then the doorbell rang. “Oh!” Mrs. Losa exclaimed. “That’s probably the food. I’ll go get it. Donna, why don’t you show Clarissa around.” She then ran to get the door without waiting for an answer.
Donna smiled and rolled her eyes. “I’m a bit busy, but Nico’s friends are outback setting up the picnic. You can head out there.”
Clarissa looked out the window. There were three adults her own age struggling to set up lawn furniture and laughing. Remember, you belong here. She swallowed and looked back at Donna. “Do you think you could tell me a bit about them first? So I’m not going in blind?”
Donna smiled. “Of course!”
Clarissa let out the breath she’d been holding. See, that wasn’t so bad! It never hurts to ask for help.
“Nico will have four childhood friends here. They’ve all known each other since elementary school. The three in the back right now are Juliana, Caitlyn, and Adam. Juliana is the Indian girl carrying the water cooler,” Donna said pointing.
Clarissa followed her finger and saw Juliana. She was less carrying the water cooler than dragging it, spilling half the water on the deck and the other half on herself. She didn’t seem to mind though, because she was laughing. She wore an obnoxiously loud Hawaiian shirt and black leggings with neon blue high-top sneakers.
“Juliana’s really funny; she used to do stand-up nights at their high school that people actually went to,” Donna said. “She’s in med school at Stanford right now. She’s so smart she makes Nico look like an airhead.”
Clarissa nodded along.
“The other girl is Caitlyn,” Donna said once again pointing. “She’s still in her goth phase if you can’t tell.”
Clarissa could tell. Caitlyn was a pale white girl with red hair and freckles. She wore a black shirt, a black skirt, black fishnet tights, doc martens, bright red lipstick, and thick black eyeliner. She sat on a deck chair cutting watermelon with a comically large knife and laughing along with her friends.
“Caitlyn works at a local restaurant but wants to be an author someday. She plays music really well. She was first chair of the bass section in high school orchestra before she gave her mother a heart attack by quitting to start a garage band with some friends.”
Clarissa smiled, she remembered that type from her time in high school. Though, most of the people she knew had grown out of that.
“The last one back there is Adam,” Donna said not bothering to point this time.
Clarissa looked at the last person in the yard. He was a young man whose entire appearance could be summed up as average. He had medium skin, brown hair, and brown eyes. He was of average height and neither fat nor skinny. He wore a UCLA sweatshirt and blue jeans. He was unfolding tables and having the most success out of all of them.
“Adam dated Juliana for a while, but they broke up on good terms. He studied history undergraduate and is now substitute teaching at the local high school while trying to figure out what to do with his degree.”
So, perfectly average, Clarissa thought, then realized that was slightly mean, and mentally kicked herself.
“James is the last one, and he’s not here yet. His picture’s on the fridge.” Donna pointed at a photo held onto the fridge with a magnet made to look like a thumbtack.
Clarissa looked at the photo. It was of a teenage Nicolas sitting on a park bench with his arm around the shoulders of another boy with black hair cut in an undercut wearing a muscle shirt, ripped jeans, and high tops. They were both leaning into each other and smiling.
“They must have been pretty close for James to have his picture on the fridge,” Clarissa commented. And yet I’ve still never heard about him, she thought.
“Oh yes,” Donna said. “James was pretty much family.”
“He almost was family,” Mrs. Losa said, returning to the kitchen with two bags in each hand.
“Mama!” Donna scolded, glaring.
“¡Lo siento, so siento!” Mrs. Losa said.
Clarissa felt bad for Donna. It must be bad enough to have to see your ex at all your brother’s birthdays without your mom bringing up how you almost got married.
“I’ll head out to the backyard now,” Clarissa said.
“Of course,” Donna said. “It was nice to meet you.”
“And if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask,” Mrs. Losa added.
“Nice to meet you too. And thanks for the offer,” Clarissa said, as she headed out the screen door to the back porch.
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