That was our furniture. Our future.
And now it’s nothing.
My phone rings, and like every other time, I jump up to grab it. Disappointment strikes hard in my chest when I see it’s my mother, and then I feel guilty because I shouldn’t be disappointed in her calling me. I just wish it was someone else calling instead.
“Hey, Ma,” I say.
“Hi, honey. How are you feeling?”
“Like shit.”
“You still haven’t heard from him?”
When I got home, I called my mother like I usually do. Visiting them after a tour is normal, but I had to call her to let her know that I wouldn’t be visiting this time. I couldn’t. Then I word-vomited everything to her and even broke down in tears. Since then, she’s called at least every other day to check on me and see if I’ve heard from him.
“No.”
“I’m sorry, hon. I’m sure you will.”
“Yeah, I hope so.”
But I’m not so sure anymore. He chose to leave me. Wherever he is, it was a choice. Something he decided to do.
I don’t believe he’s dead or hurt. I think he just chose something else. Something that was more important. Better. Easier, maybe.
“I was still thinking you should come visit. It’s your father’s birthday next week and we’re going to throw him a party. Everyone will be here.”
I sigh, feeling bad that I don’t want to go. I don’t want to be around anyone right now.
I just want Aliko back.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Honey—”
“Mom, I said I’ll think about it.”
“Okay, sheesh.”
“I have to go.”
“Take care of yourself, Leif. I love you. Call me if you need anything.”
Now I feel even worse for snapping at her.
“Love you too. Thanks.”
I end the call, drop the phone onto the couch, and lay back. The couch has a permanent indentation of my body at this point. It’s never gotten so much use out of me, and I’ve had it for about five years. I can’t bear being in bed alone. It feels too big. There’stoo much space. The couch is better. It’s pathetic but leaning against the back of it while lying down makes me feel less lonely. Like someone is lying behind me, even though I know no one is there.
“Aliko, where are you?” I mutter to myself as I reach for the blanket to cover myself up.
Fall is coming and I feel it. Surprising, because I haven’t felt anything lately. Nothing but alone.
I take the drive to my parents’ house the following week, the day before my father’s party. He’s going to be sixty. I can’t miss this party.
The only cars in the driveway are my parents’, and I pull in behind them. The house door opens before I’m out of my car.
My mother smiles from the doorway, opening her arms when I reach her. She pulls me in for a hug, squeezing like she hasn’t seen me in years. It’s been a while, but not that long.
