I follow her up the steps and into the house. I can smell the chicken before I reach the kitchen.
“Damn, I miss Mom’s cooking,” I confess.
“You should come out here more often,” she says as she gives me a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Ally, is that you?” Mom calls out.
“Yep, and I found a stranger,” Ally replies as we step into the big open space at the back of the house. Dad had knocked a bunch of walls down so that the kitchen, informal dining area, and family room were all open to each other.
Mom’s wearing her normal blue flowered apron. She’s setting a casserole dish on the kitchen island as we walk into the room.
Her eyes light up when she sees me. “Well, this is a pleasant surprise,” she says, wiping her hands on a towel and walking over to me.
She pulls me into a hug, and I lift her up off the ground. She laughs, and I nuzzle my head into her neck and breathe in the familiar scent of her perfume. She smells like home, and I’ve missed her.
“Hi, Mom,” I say, setting her down.
“Mike! We’ve got company!” Mom yells.
I hear Dad come down the stairs, probably from his office on the third floor, where he had renovated the old attic space.
“Oh?” he says, as he turns the corner and sees me. I catch the surprise in his eyes, but he quickly recovers and comes over to give me a hug.
“What brings you out here?” he asks as he pulls back and sits down at the table where Mom has laid out lunch, which looks like some sort of chicken casserole, salad, and her famous homemade bread. Mom retired from teaching when I had my accident. She claimed it was time, but I think she would have taught for a few more years if she hadn’t needed to help me around my house for six months.
“I had a meeting cancelled, so I decided to come visit,” I explain as I sit down across from him in the spot that was mine growing up.
The door slams, and Bryson walks into the room. “Well, shit, look what the cat dragged in,” he says as he walks over to me and slaps me on the back.
I sniff and scrunch my face. “I’m not the one who smells like shit. Damn, boy, which pig did you piss off?”
He laughs and sits down. “Miss Piggles was mad this morning,” he explains as if that’s a normal thing to say. Miss Piggles is our oldest pig. Bryson raised her for a Four-H project in high school, and she’s lived on the farm ever since.
“I see some things never change,” I state as I help myself to lunch.
Mom and Ally sit down, and Dad looks over at me. “Glad you stopped by, kid,” he says.
I suddenly feel guilty. Am I the problem? Was the separation from my family all my fault?
“So, what’s new?” Mom asks as she passes the bread to me.
“I’m seeing someone,” I announce.
There’s a clang of forks on plates, and I look up to see everyone staring at me.
“Wow. Who? How long? Are we meeting her?” Ally rattles off questions.
“Slow down, Allinator,” I tease, using her childhood nickname. “Just a few weeks. Her name is Jocelyn. We’ve known each other for about five months and some change. She’s graduating from grad school this spring, and she works at the bookstore downstairs.”
“Oh, honey, I’m happy for you,” Mom says, a smile forming on her face that looks genuine.
I clear my throat because I hate talking about my feelings, but I need to do this. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around more,” I say. Silence meets me as my family members all look at each other. “What?” I ask.
“We’ve just been waiting for you to say that for a long time. We miss you out here, kid,” he says, and I feel like a truck just hit me. I’m mad at them for not saying this sooner. I’m mad at myself for not talking to them sooner. Do they really miss me? Can they get over their guilt about the accident? Do I blame them for the accident? Why didn’t they say something to me? Shit, how fucked up am I?
I swallow hard. “I…have some stuff I’ve been needing to work through…that I apparently still need to work through,” I stammer as I try to understand what’s happening and how I feel about it. I just wanted to clear the air a little, but now, I feel like Pandora’s box has been opened.
Mom pats my hand. “Sweetheart, you’re always welcome here. We just didn’t want to press you about it. You’ve been through so much. We love you,” she says, giving my hand a squeeze. I grab it and squeeze it back.
