Now the whole building gave off a vibe that seemed strange and tainted. Almost as if it felt just as violated as I did.
“Ummm… bro?”
I turned alongside Bodie, to find Carter standing in the middle of the sidewalk. One hand was on his hip, while the other scratched the back of his head. His face registered solid confusion.
“Isn’t this where we parked the truck?”
~ 22 ~
SAWYER
“Are you sure you don’t want to stick around a little longer?” my mother asked sweetly. “We could watch Jeopardy together. Like we used to.”
Her pleading expression melted my heart, and for a fleeting moment I saw her as she used to be. Young. Radiant. Loving. She was still loving, but there were more lines around her mouth now. More crow’s feet at the corners of those mist-colored eyes.
“Is this going to be another recording of an episode you watched last night?” I surmised. “One where you already know all the answers?”
She laughed, and her laughter reminded me of childhood. “Aww, c’mon,” she implored. “That was a joke. You know I was just kidding around with you.”
“Uh huh,” I smiled. “Except that you did it twice.”
My mother’s devilish grin even grew wider. “Twice that you know of,” she winked.
I shook my head and hugged her again. There was hardly anything to her now, and even less every time I came by. So many little things in the house changed too; gradually, bit by bit, the decor I remembered was gone. Some of it had been replaced by new, often grandiose things I didn’t recognize. Other piecesjust disappeared however, leaving an empty space in my heart, where they used to be.
“Stay,” she said again. “Just another half hour.”
Another half hour. My eyes shifted to the monstrosity over her shoulder; her grandfather’s grandfather clock. I noticed the time.
“You’re hoping I run into dad, aren’t you?”
Her body stiffened a little. We both knew what she was trying to do.
“He’d really love to see you,” she lied.
“Yeah. I’m sure.”
“No, Sawyer, I’m serious,” she pulled back to look at me. “He talked about you just last week.”
I rolled my eyes. “Last week.”
“The Murphys’ son is in the Army, and he just got stationed in Frankfurt. And your father was telling them about the time you were there, and, well…”
She went on, but by now I was hardly listening. As with most times she began talking about my father, my mind drifted intentionally elsewhere. There were a whole host of reasons why I needed to get out of here before he came home. My mother knew only some of them.
“And then, back when you were traveling Europe—”
“Hey, that reminds me!” I cried, happy to change the subject. “I almost forgot!”
I doubled back to the kitchen table, where I’d left a small brown bag. When I handed it to my mother, her eyes lit up.
“For me?” she clapped.
“Of course it’s for you!”
I loved this little game we played. Her excitement was always worth it.
“Ohh! Where did you go?”
