I want to lay into him the way he’s so determined to dig into me, but I keep my head. He’s always itching for a fight, like he thinks he can bully me into coming home.
"Her name is Evelyn Howard. She's in danger from someone in her past, who burned down her house. We're not sure who can be trusted, which includes the police. He's still out there. So New York isn't safe for her right now. I promised she would be safe here, given how heavily secured the estate is. While she's here, she'll assume an alias, Willow Norris. No one can know her real name or the circumstances surrounding her stay here," I replied,making sure I met his eyes so the seriousness of the situation was conveyed.
“My son, thehero. Ms. Howard is your responsibility while she’s here, so please make sure she is well acquainted with how we do things. Tomorrow I'll be expecting you to accompany me to the country club for a round of golf with Sheriff Strauss. Do not be late.”
With that said, he opened his laptop and started typing away, ending the conversation.
I got up from the armchair, trudging to the door without responding to his demand. I was beat, and I needed a shower, some food, and a bed, hopefully in that order.
Tomorrow I would have to play the part and play it well, unless I wanted another lecture from my dad. He wanted me to make sure Evelyn didn’t do anything to embarrass him or tarnish the Woods’ good name. It didn't escape me that I was a twenty-eight-year-old man who still had to bend to the will of his father. I wasn’t even back a full twenty-four hours, and I was already shutting up and nodding along. I knew why I had to do it, but it didn’t stop the bitter taste in my mouth.
Looking around, I catalogued every piece of furniture and every painting or photo on the walls. This place was stuck in time. Nothing had really changed since I left, much like the relationship between myself and my dad.
Rounding the corner into the kitchen, I found my mother at the window, looking out onto the garden. I should have known she would be here; predictable as she was. Since I was a child, my mother always liked to take her coffee here. Hearing me approach, she looked up and smiled. Her hair was perfectly coiffed as if she were attending an event rather than just relaxing at home. The yellow sundress she wore trailed behind her as she stood putting her coffee down.
I couldn’t help but smile back, happy to see my mother after all this time. She tried to keep the peace between my father and me, but it didn't stop me from leaving. My mother didn't push like my father. She just stayed neutral. While I felt guilty for fracturing our relationship, I couldn't ignore the resentment that simmered at the surface.
“My baby boy, I’m so glad you’re home,” she gushed as she met me halfway, bringing me into her arms.
I definitely wasn’t a baby or a boy, not by a long shot, with the way I towered over my mother’s 5’3 frame. But there was no correcting her. Rejoice Woods would proudly insist that I would always be her baby, no matter how grown or tall I was. I couldn’t complain. It felt good to be embraced by her and see her smile.
“I missed you, Mama,” I felt my shoulders relax as I breathed in the calming, warm scent of my mother’s perfume: Chanel No.5. The rich scent of bergamot and jasmine was classic and familiar. My mother wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty, preferred tending her own garden, and cooking her own food. No matter how much money my father made, my mother was still the country girl from Macon, and she never let him forget it.
“I’ve missed you, too, baby. It’s been far too long since I’ve had you in my arms.” She stepped out of the hug and surveyed me with her amber eyes. “And it looks like you haven’t been eating well up there in New York either.”
I took my time soaking her in, too. My mother had kind almond eyes, and the lines around them were proof of the smile she wore without fail. She only became more beautiful with age. If you asked her how she managed to stay so youthful, she’d probably tell you, “A kind heart.” Rejoice Woods led life with kindness and believed that harboring ill will was damaging to the soul and the body. Whether I believed that was true or not, didn’t matter. She had ingrained in us to live our lives in the same manner. So far, being kind hasn't failed me yet.
Her words brought a chuckle out of me. My mama thought if my shirt buttons weren’t popping off, then I must’ve been starving. Each time we FaceTime, she asked me what was for dinner or lunch, then stuck up her nose at it. I ate healthy and kept in shape. My mama didn’t want to hear nothing about no kale and quinoa.
“Well, lady, are you going to feed me then?” I replied even though my mother was already making her way over to the refrigerator and taking out a carton of eggs.
“You know I can’t have my baby hungry. Go on to upstairs and shower off the trip. Breakfast will be ready when you’re done,” she ordered while tying her apron.
My feet carried me out of the room. I couldn’t get to the shower fast enough.
“And make sure you bring your lady friend over for breakfast as well,” my mother called out before I crossed the threshold.
I shook my head.
I knew bringing her here for her safety was the best idea, but my family was about to interrogate her. My sister and mother would think she was here for more. Evelyn was lovely, and I could tell she had a kind soul, but I wasn’t going to disturb her peace if I could help it. I was just there to protect her.
The room waslike a time capsule. It looked just like how I left it before heading to New York. My football trophies and pictures were still displayed on the mantel along with my swimming medals and high school yearbooks. The album collection I worked so hard on was still intact, neatly placed beside the record player my grandfather had given me for mythirteenth birthday. The bookshelf in the corner didn’t have a speck of dust on it, even though I haven’t been in this room in a decade.
My mother always made sure I knew she had my room cleaned regularly, “just in case I was homesick.” My eyes didn’t linger too long on the family photo positioned on the bedside table. I never did get homesick. I was living my dream, and my father had pressured me so much that even the slightest thought of going back home always left me uneasy.
My mother and sisters didn’t deserve the distance that I put between us, but I needed a clean break—a chance to find my own way.
Like my room, the bathroom was still stocked with all my old favorites—at least the ones that used to be my favorites when I was home last. I made quick work of removing my clothing and starting the shower. Once the water hit my skin, I felt like I could breathe again. This moment would be fleeting. I was home, and I had to play by the rules if I wanted to keep my promise to Evelyn.
When I felt like I washed the grime from that shady motel off my skin, I hopped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around my waist, and walked over to my closet.
The walk-in closet was littered with designer clothing and shoes. I had become accustomed to wearing t-shirts and basketball shorts on my off days from the firehouse. I can't say I was eager to get back into skinny chino pants and polo shirts. Despite my discomfort, I dressed for the day in something my father wouldn’t be able to disapprove of.
As I dressed, my thoughts traveled to Evelyn. I hope my sisters aren’t talking her ear off. She had to be just as tired as I was, and I could imagine she was hungry. With the guilt setting in, I rushed to get dressed and go find her. I would have to ask one of our housekeepers to bring some of my things over to thepool house later. Even though the estate was secure, I didn’t want to leave Evelyn there alone.
I took the winding stone pathway down the hill to the pool house. The house had grown since I was gone. Before me stood a single-story home equipped with sandstone columns, glass roof panels, and floor-to-ceiling windows. From the outside, I could see the full kitchen that was installed and the entertainment center that was opposite of it. I stepped through the sliding doors that led into the living room and inspected the space around me. The walls had been painted a light bluish grey, and maple hardwood flooring had been put in. The house was stunning and a testament to how successful the family business, had become over the years. The kitchen flaunted Calacatta Gold marble countertops and Miele stainless-steel appliances. Turning around, I found a hallway that must've led to the bedrooms. From what my sisters told me, there were two bedrooms; one of which they set Evelyn up in. Walking to the closed door at the end of the hall, I pressed my ear to it. I couldn’t hear any sounds coming from the room, and I worried she might already be sleeping.
After the night we had in the motel, I figured she needed her sleep. I could relate, I had nightmares too. It always weighed heavily on me when we lost someone, whether they were a part of our company or a victim. It never got any easier.
