They named me wrong. They named my sister wrong for that matter. Giving us middle names that they hoped would imbue certain qualities on us was maybe not the best idea my parents have ever had. Olivia Grace and Spencer Joy. I’m built more like a linebacker and less like a ballerina and if you’ve ever seen me on the soccer field you’d know there is nothing graceful about me. Maybe it should have been Olivia Strength, or Olivia Brute Force.
And when it comes to Spencer, well there hasn’t been much to be joyful about. If they wanted her to be joyful, maybe they shouldn’t have left. When we realized we were going to Grandpa’s ranch, there was joy within her, within us both, but when we realized we’d be staying, indefinitely and we didn’t know when we’d see them again; joy became the furthest thing from her mind.
I keep telling her it’s no big deal, that we’ll hear from them soon. But the longer time goes on, the less I’m sure. This has happened before, them leaving for big chunks of time without a trace, only Spencer was much younger.
If mom and dad stay within their line of work, it’s bound to happen again. That is, if they are still alive.
It’s not easy being the children of spies. At least I’m a little easier with it now. Spencer will come around in time, if there’s another time to come around to.
For now, I’m content with taking care of Spencer, being a force to be reckoned with on the soccer field, and hiding the family secret. Hopefully I can do all of that while still living up to my namesake, and providing Spencer with a little of her own namesake.
Until they come home, I’ll protect the locket and the secrets hiding within that my mother left me.
The above story was for this week's Trifecta challenge regarding the word Grace. It's 313 words.