“Gage managed to book a kitchen space and we’re going to create a few things.See if they are worthy of entering into culinary contests.”With a backpack slung over her shoulder, she was already on her way to the door.
“Do you need anything?”I stretched out to peer around the wall fruitlessly.
“Already taken care of it.Gotta go.Bye.”The door closed before I had a chance to say anything further.
I brewed myself a cup of coffee and sat at the kitchen table, taking it all in.My home – our home – for the past fifteen years.Put the down payment on it a couple of years after the kids’ father gave up on all of us.It was our home, our sanctuary.We’d all grown up here, the height measurements on the kitchen wall showed as much.I sighed as the memories rolled through like a highlight reel in the movies.
Josh came home ten minutes later, still in his work jacket, hair damp from the rain.
“Hey,” he said, opening the fridge.“You eat yet?”
“Barely,” I admitted.“Sit with me?”
He hesitated, pulled out a container of leftovers, and dropped into the chair across from me without having warmed it first in the microwave.
It was such a normal thing that it almost undid me.
We talked about nothing of importance.His shift.A customer who’d tried to return something clearly broken by misuse.Allie’s new obsession with baking bread like it was a competitive sport, but he wasn’t complaining and hoped she’d make more of the savoury garlic one she’d made while I was gone.I listened, smiling, watching him in that way parents do when they realize their children have quietly become people.
He caught me looking.
“What?”he asked, tipping his head to the side so his floppy bangs fell over his left eye.
“Nothing.Just...glad you’re home.”
He studied me for a moment longer than necessary and dug back into his food.But I felt the shift, the way he was paying attention now and giving me the side-eye with every second bite.
After a beat, he said, “You know, you seem different lately.”
I blinked and tightened my grip around the mug.“Different how?Different bad?”
“Nah.Happier,” he said simply, adding a half-smile, “Like...lighter.”
My throat tightened.
“That road trip do something to you?”He gobbled down another bite and went to the fridge to hunt for more.
“Is it that obvious?”My coffee was still hot and it scalded the tip of my tongue.
“Kind of,” he said.“You hum now.You didn’t before.”
I hadn’t realized.
Pulling the collar of my hoodie forward to give me more breathing space, I sighed a happy and content sigh.“I didn’t go looking for anything,” I said.“But I found...perspective.”
Josh nodded, like that made sense, and sat down with a container of pulled pork.“Good.”
“You really should reheat that.”
“Nah, it was cooked once already.”He stabbed his fork in and shovelled up a bite.
Shrugging, I reached over and grabbed a piece too.
There was a pause.The moment stretched familiar, but new too.
“Mom?”he said carefully and looked into my eyes.
“Yes?”
