“Oh you know, it’d be nice to be in bed,” Cora said. They were both in their pajamas.
Her husband blinked, his eyes a little red-rimmed. “Got some great shots from the food festival though.”
Tristan was a freelance photographer who often worked for National Geographic. They were based in Singapore, but his job took the two of them all over the world.
“I don’t even want to know how that was,” I said, drooling, even though I truly was stuffed with Mom’s burgers. I could still taste all that street food from when I visited them, just before everything had gone south.
“I’m telling Mom,” Cora said, laughing.
I narrowed my eyes, but couldn’t help smiling. I missed my little sister. And Tristan, who’d been my best friend since high school, save a few years where we didn’t speak. Because of Cora. That was all water under the bridge now though. Cora and Tristan had been the ones to get me home last year. They did so much for me I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to repay them.
Tristan started listing all the food he’d eaten today while I groaned.
My mirth immediately withered though, when Cora askedhow I was doing. “And answer fast, before Mom comes back,” she demanded.
Normally, I was a forthright, heart on my sleeve kind of guy. I didn’t like to lie, and wasn’t actually very good at it. What you saw was what you got. But I hadn’t told anyone about what was going on with me yet. Not a single soul.
Except Ellie’s neighbor.
It had been impossible to lie as I sat there on the stoop trying to sweep up her shit with my hands. My face probably looked exactly as shell-shocked as I’d felt. I remembered him from that orientation night. He was a good guy. At least, that’s what I’d gathered. Talked a lot about his son.
“Turns out I have a son too,” I’d said.
The guy, bless him, hadn’t reacted weirdly. He just nodded. “Oh,” he said. “Congrats.”
That had actually made me laugh. Him too, though he was a little awkward about it. It occurred to me that something might be going on between them. He had a key to her place after all. But when I asked, he’d held his hands out. “Oh, no. Scouts honor.”
I don’t know why I liked that answer. It didn’t matter. I’d written the note and left after that. Which I was fairly certain must have thrown Ellie into a bigger rage, since I hadn’t heard from her. That was three days ago.
Cora was still waiting for me to respond to her ‘how are you really doing’ question.
“I’m totally fine,” I lied. There was no way I was telling her anything with our parents around.
Cora narrowed her eyes. “What’s going on, Sam?”
Luckily a commercial break came on, and Dad wandered back to the table. “Did you get enough burgers, son? Doctors tell me I can’t have these anymore so you should.”
“Oh my God.” Cora buried her face in her hands onscreen. “Dad, first of all they said you need to diversify your diet. Not never eat burgers again. Second of all, he’sfull.”
“I’m so glad you guys are here to witness this,” I said to Cora and Tristan.
“He can’t be full,” Dad asked, dropping into his chair. “He’s a growing boy.”
I didn’t bother saying anything. For my parents, when I was home it was like time had stopped. I was, in their mind, a collegiate athlete for life. Or maybe the teen pennant winner. Whatever it was, I was some kind of golden boy who checked off all their boxes. Me disappearing as far away as I could for more than a decade seemed to have made no difference.
“The doctor said you need to get outside and get exercise,” Mom said. “For your heart.”
Dad waved her away, even though it sounded kind of important.
But before I could suggest to Dad that I could take him on an easy hike or something, Mom turned her worried face on me.
“Are you really okay, Samuel?” Mom asked. “Philomena says she doesn’t see you much at the office.”
“Why aren’t you at the office?” Dad asked.
I sighed, trying to not feel like a dick as I explained, not for the first time, how my job had allowed me to set up a hybrid arrangement. I was doing IT work at an automotive parts dealer, thanks to Tristan’s and my high school buddy Brett’s parents, who ownedAutoScore. Unfortunately, my mom was friends with Brett’s mom. She was a nice lady, but she reported my every move back to Mom.
“It means I can sometimes work from home because of the stuff the physical therapist recommended,” I reminded my dad.
