Ian
Present
Iopen the front door with my key and am immediately surrounded by the delicious aroma of my mother’s baked ham. I smile to myself, knowing that she probably made it just for me; she always does when I come home. It’s one of my favorite meals, and she spoils me like a little kid.
“Hey, I’m home,” I say as I walk into the living room and find my father sitting on the sofa in front of the TV.
“Ian?” He turns towards me. “What are you doing here?”
I furrow my brow. “Mum invited me over for dinner.”
“Yes, of course,” he says distractedly, turning back to the screen.
I go to the kitchen where my mother has set the table for three. We haven’t used the dining room for a long time. We’re never all together in a big group like we used to be.
“Sweetheart,” Mum says, hugging me a bit too tightly, and letting go slowly, rubbing my face where a beard has been growing undisturbed for a few weeks now.
“It’s nice to have you home,” she smiles tenderly, and a wave of sadness washes over me.
I know she’s happy that I’m here just as I know she misses my brothers, but neither of them ever make an effort to come over.
“Everything’s all ready. Can you tell your father it’s time to eat, please?”
“Of course.” I give her a kiss on the cheek and go back to the living room where the TV’s still on, but my father isn’t there anymore.
I knock on the bathroom door under the stairs, but he’s not there either. I call to him from downstairs to see if he’d maybe gone upstairs to his room, but there’s no answer.
I go to make my way back to the kitchen when I see the front door is slightly ajar, knowing I closed it when I came in.
I go over and look out the window: my father is standing on the pavement, looking out to the street. I go over to him, but he isn’t aware of my presence. I touch his shoulder, and he jerks his head towards me, confused.
“What are you doing out here?”
He looks at me, but not really. His eyes are looking into mine, but his attention is elsewhere.
“Dad?”
“Ian? What are you doing here?” he asks, finally recognizing me.
“I’m…” the words die in my throat. And maybe something else too.
“Let’s go inside, dinner’s ready.”
“It’s already dinner time?” he asks innocently, and I force a smile.
“Mum’s made ham.”
“Ham? That means Ian must be on his way. It’s one of his favorite meals, you know, and Karen loves spoiling the kids.” he laughs, shaking his head as he makes his way into the house. He stops at the doorway and turns to me.
“Will you stay for dinner with us?” he asks kindly.
“Why not – thank you,” I manage, before the lump in my throat becomes too big to swallow.
“That’s good, good.”
My father heads into the house, leaving the door open and me standing outside alone, wondering what the future holds for the man who worked endlessly to give our family everything we needed.
Lost in my thoughts, I don’t see Mum until she appears at my side. I open my arms, and she hides herself in them, resting her head on my chest. I wrap her up and kiss her head.
