“Better.Tired, but better.”
“Then let’s get you home.You can put your feet up; I’ll make you some pizza.Unless that’ll upset your stomach.”
“Pizza sounds great.”
Wyatt hovered nearby, and when Char started rapid-firing questions at me, Wyatt answered them before I could.He filled them in on all the details, reassured them, and slipped in a few jokes that eased their worries just enough.
We made it to the exit, and Char grabbed my bag from Wyatt, and he stepped back.
Just one step, but I felt it.
“Are you coming?”I asked, my voice barely carrying over the noise of the terminal.
He hesitated, and though it was only for a second, that second destroyed any hope I had.
“I have to take care of something.”
“What could you possibly have to take care of?We’re in an airport.”
“I know.My flight leaves in an hour.I have to go.”
“Flight?”
“I have to go home.”
Wyatt had always told meourhouse was home.
Now he left me to return to a place he had been avoiding most of his adult life.
He walked over to me and kissed my forehead.“I’ll call you when I land.Promise.”
“Oh.O-okay.”
His hand lingered at my waist like he was afraid to let go, which only scared me more.He squeezed my side, kissed my temple, and let go.
He walked into the airport, his shoulders squared, his pace steady, like he didn’t just leave me behind.
Sherry slid her arm around me.“You ready?”
I nodded even though I felt hollow inside.
The doors closed, and I stared until Wyatt was no longer visible.
And I had no idea if that meant he’d find his way back to me or not.
It had been a long time since I’d been home.Unlike the Grassos, I didn’t have many happy memories from my childhood.Hell, I didn’t have many happy memories until Rose came into my life.My throat tightened, and I swallowed.Now wasn’t the time for tears.There’d be plenty of time for that later, but right now I needed to walk through the door of my childhood and try to make sense of the depressing nightmare that was the years of my life that were supposed to be the best.
I stood on the cracked concrete steps, staring at the flaking blue paint of the front door, my hand hovering over the house number.It wasn’t lost on me that I felt the need to knock on my own mom’s door when I never once knocked on the Grasso’s door.Well, I did once.Then Mr.Grasso asked me if I was the pizza delivery guy, and when I looked at him confused, he had said, “The door is always open for family.”
My hand froze.The house hadn’t changed much.It had the same faded shutters.The same rust stain crept down the siding under the gutter Dad never fixed, even though Mom harassed him about it constantly.After he left, Mom just gave up on it, just like she gave up on everything else.So much was the same, but somehow the house felt smaller, as if time had squeezed the remaining life out of it.
I drew in a breath that tasted like uncut grass and old regret, then knocked.The door opened, and the scent of cigarettes and stale air hit me.
“What the hell are you doing here?Is someone dead?”Mom asked, and I scrubbed a hand over my face.
“No one’s dead.I just… needed to see you.”
Mom blinked, suspicion and confusion warring in her eyes.She folded her arms over her faded t-shirt.“Why now?It’s been what?Four years with barely a phone call.”
