The man I was when I was with Dee...
Happy. Alive.
Tim rubbed the center of his chest, where his heart used to be. “You need to move on, mate.”
Charles blinked at him owlishly. “You and me both, pal. You and me both.”
Thirty-three
I’ve got that, Aunt Em,” I said as she reached for the baggage carousel.
She grabbed my heavy wheeled suitcase from the conveyor belt. “I’m not feeble yet.”
A little grayer, a little thinner than I remembered, but definitely not feeble. I lengthened my stride to keep up with her, my second bag banging against my thigh.
“You look tired,” she said as we walked to the parking garage. NotHow are you?orI’ve missed youorTell me about Dublin.
“Long flight.”
I hadn’t been able to sleep or to focus on the in-flight movie. An hour over the Atlantic Ocean, I’d opened the book Tim loaned me, about a beekeeper’s daughter who chases after a runaway swarm and is caught up in a battle of good and evil. The story was funny and scary, beautiful and sad. I’d turned my face from my oblivious seatmate and wept for what I was leaving behind. Not the offer from Oscar, though I understood now why he’d made it. I missed Tim. “The heroine reminded me of you.”
Em grunted without replying. I was used to her silences. But for the first time I wondered if, like Tim, she was simply leaving holes in the conversation. White space on a page, waiting to be filled.
“Also, it’s been a stressful couple of weeks,” I said, testing my theory.
“What do you have to be stressed about, I’d like to know?”
“Oh.” I flapped my free hand. “The usual. Climate change, worldwide pandemic, financial crisis, school... a broken heart.”
She threw me a sharp look, loading my bags in the back of the truck. “Well, whatever it is, you’re home now.”
There was a sudden lump in my throat.Home. The place where, according to Aunt Em and Robert Frost, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.
The farmhouse seemed smaller than my memories. In the room I shared with Toni, the floor space had shrunk, taken up by cardboard boxes stacked along one wall, moving cartons from my old apartment and the contents of Toni’s dorm room.
Em frowned as she lifted my suitcase onto the empty bed. “There wasn’t time to put all this away.”
“It’s fine,” I assured her.
“The sheets are clean, at least.”
“Aunt Em...” I touched her arm, the closest we’d come to a hug. “Thanks.”
Under her tan, she flushed. She patted my hand and then dropped it. “Dinner at five thirty. You can set the table if you want to make yourself useful.”
A woman of action, my aunt Em. Too bad she’d never met—would never meet—Tim. My throat tightened.
I texted Reeti to let her know I was safely back in Kansas and then went out to set the table.
Uncle Henry came in from the fields for dinner, smelling of fertilizer, dirt, and sweat. His bristles scraped as he kissed my cheek.
“How long are you staying this time?” he asked.
“Well.” I swallowed. “I thought... August? I want to focus on finishing my thesis before I start looking for a job.”
Uncle Henry nodded and dug back into his plate.
“I’m happy to help out,” I added. “While I’m here.”
