Journey squints her right eye a little, knowing I feel the way she does. She also knows I’d rather be around others than alone when necessary. We’re very different in that way, as well.
As we’re parting ways in the parking lot, I grab Journey’s wrist. "I know about your little key switching trick last night.” I tilt my head to the side.
Journey smirks. "You’re welcome."
"Pain in the butt," I mutter.
"Always will be," she says, walking off.
"You knew, didn’t you?" I ask Mom before unlocking Dad’s truck. I parked beside her when I arrived since the lot was still empty.
"Not until she mentioned it after you and Brett were both long gone. I told her it wasn’t the time to be playing match-maker," Mom says.
"Thank you for standing up for me.”
"Well, I tried, but I didn’t have much to respond to after she said there was already a match-made a long time ago."
I gaze at the keys in my hand, wondering why life would align this way, at this time, and with these hurdles.
"A lot of life has happened over the last decade," I remind Mom.
"Life has also brought you both back to the same place, so—you never know, right?"
I didn’t need these thoughts swimming through my head before dinner with his family. My mind is already going haywire—I’m weak, and a mess. "Maybe it’s a coincidence.”
"It could be, butit might not be," she says. "I’ll see you at home, sweetie." She disappears into her Lexus, and I clamber into the driver’s seat of the truck.
The timing is wrong.
The timing was wrong back then, and it’s wrong now, and I should be focusing on everything else.
I should be focusing on losing my father.
On death.
On what life will be like with a permanently broken heart.
The driveway has an open spot for the truck, but there are three other vehicles lined against the lawn on the dirt road.
My body feels numb as I make my way to the front door, and my mind fills with fog as I hear soft laughter bubbling from the kitchen. Mom is laughing.
Are we allowed to laugh right now?
Mom set the dining room table for eight people, but I feel like I’m walking into a stranger’s house. This isn’t my family.
It’s just Mom and me.
I hang my coat up and place the truck keys in the small dish on the entryway table.
When I step into the kitchen, I find Mom with a glass of wine in her hand, and Elizabeth dishing out food from the casserole she must have prepared. Bill sweeping a crumb off the counter, Brett is filling glasses with either water or wine, and Brody is doing a magic trick in the corner with the two girls.
It’s almost a full minute before anyone notices me, but I’ve also been standing in the entryway watching everyone prepare a meal for only eight people.
"Hi," I say, the sound of my voice doesn’t come out too loudly, so I clear my throat. "I’m home." I took the long way and got gas, putting me ten minutes behind Mom, which earned me a concerned phone call from her, wondering why I wasn’t behind her. I was supposed to fill up the tank this morning, but it wasn’t on empty, and I didn’t have the energy.
“Hi, honey,” mom calls out.
As I enter the kitchen, Elizabeth holds her wet hands to the side and places a kiss on my cheek. “It’s nice to see you again, sweetie,” she says. "I think we’re all set, so go have a seat. What would you like to drink?"
