Because while I didn’t skin my knee, my heart is all kinds of banged up.
It’s weird being here, especially after having lived here for a while after college graduation. Then, I missed my sisters being here, and my dad.
Now, I miss it all.
“Hey, son,” my stepdad Art says, coming into the hallway.
I know he means son in a colloquial way, and not like I’m his child, but it still makes me want to throw a tantrum.
I let Mom go and she holds me back by my shoulders, examining me.
“Gosh, are you bigger than before?” She squeezes my bicep. “Look at these muscles!”
I put on a weak smile. “A summer of farm work. You know how it goes.” And holding Darcy up while she rode my cock, but that’s not something you tell your mom.
Or anyone besides Darcy. But she’s not talking to me right now.
Art’s at Mom’s side, a hand casually patting down her back as he sticks the other out to shake my hand. “Good to see you.”
“Yeah,” I say, returning his grip.I’ll kill you if you upset my mom.
Mom ushers us into the kitchen to sit around the table, pulling out my favorite cheesecake she made for me. “Glad you came to see us, even if it’s just because you need to test your machine.”
She’s trying to make me feel bad, and it’s working. “Sorry, Mom. Teaching and going to school and . . .” I almost say “breaking up,” “everything take up a lot of time.”
Art lifts the coffee pot, Mom’s ever-present decaf coffee in there. “Want any more, Jenny? Jake?”
He’s usually not this accommodating, and I wonder if my mom had a talking-to with him about being nice to me. “Sure, I’ll take a cup. Black.”
He nods, filling one of my dad’s old camping mugs—the kind he used when we slept like cowboys out in the field. We’d do it at least once a summer, riding out to our farthest field with our few cows and sleeping under the stars. Jamie, Jackie, and I felt like a million bucks getting to do something cool and rugged with Dad.
Well, Jackie and I loved it. Jamie applied bug spray constantly and barely put her butt on the ground for fear a snake would crawl up it.
I always drank the coffee, even though I hated how it tasted at the time. Now the memory smarts. Even if Dad were still around, we wouldn’t be cowboy camping, but because he was taken too soon, it makes every memory sting more.
Mom puts a slice of cheesecake and a fork in front of me, squeezing my hand. “Tired?”
I grimace. “Yeah. I could get my own plate, Mom.”
She gives my shoulders a rub before sitting in her usual chair at the table. “You’re a guest.”
My gut twists, and I can’t stop myself from spitting out, “I’m your son.”
“You’ve got your own life now.”
My brow wrinkles. “This isn’t home?”
Mom’s gaze is sad as she looks over me. “This’ll always be home for you, sweetie. You’re always welcome here.”
Art grumbles where he stands at the counter. Mom turns and glares at him.
“Arty, why don’t you go watch the game? We’ve got to go to bed soon anyway.”
“See you bright and early, Jake,” he says with a light salute before shuffling off to the living room.
I take a bite of Mom’s cheesecake, but I hardly taste it. I wait until I hear the Nationals game turned up loud before I start in.
“Mom, are you okay?”
