Page 12 of Life, Love, and Other Messes

Chapter Four

Saulsbury, Illinois, is thirteen miles east of Interstate 57 off Exit 72. It is three hours and forty-five minutes from my house, door to door. I grew up there, living my entire childhood in the same home, with my father, mother, and older brother, Kevin. We were the epitome of Middle America.

Every time I drive home, I’m fine until I get off the interstate. I see the big green sign, I take a deep breath, and it sits heavily in my chest. I know, rationally, that I could turn back, but I also know that I’d never do it.

I passed the elementary school and the post office, my heart pounding harder every second. By the time I turned onto Ash Street, I could feel it in my ears. The third house from the corner was a ranch with tan siding and dark green shutters, and a picture window in the front, behind painstakingly manicured bushes. Unlike the Sutherlands, my parents had a company do their landscaping. The driveway led to a two-car garage, and from there, a walk bordered to the left by large, craggy boulders ended at the front porch. I remembered the argument my parents had when my mother decided she wanted to add them. My father was doing the yard work at that point and he fought hard, telling her they would look awful and it’d take forever to place them, but as usual, my mother won the fight and two weeks later, she sent me photos of Dad and Kevin in sweat-soaked T-shirts hoisting the rocks in place. I actually thought they looked nice, but I wasn’t about to say it in front of Dad.

I parked on the side of the road, making sure to stay clear of the mailbox. I let my head fall back on the seat for a moment, gathering myself. I knew my mother had been staring out the kitchen window, looking for me to arrive, and I knew she was waiting at the door. I still just wanted one more minute, to think, to breathe, to be alone.

Okay. I finally threw the car door open, gathered my phone and charger, and dug in the trunk for my bags. I was right; I was barely halfway up the walk when the front door opened. Instead of coming out to help carry things, she stood just inside, one hand on her hip. She was gracious enough to open the storm door when I got up on the step so I wouldn’t have to actually set something down to get in, but she didn’t step out of my way.

“Samantha.” It was the same tone she always used, somewhere between unable to believe I was there and pissed that I’d ever dared to leave. She hugged me close for too long, especially since I was still holding three bags, then held me away from her. Her eyes were critical. How many pounds had I gained or lost since the last time she’d seen me? Did my shirt hang right? Were my pants too tight? Was I lucky enough to be wearing a decent bra? I tried to ignore it and slid my suitcase out of the way so we could close the door.

“Dinner’s ready.” Mom hurried back into the kitchen. “Come on in. You can deal with your things later.”

“Let her breathe, Helen,” Dad said from the other room. I could hear the La-Z-Boy click back into an upright position and the television noise stopped.

“We don’t want it to get cold,” Mom said. I was sure all of it had been in the oven on keep warm anyway.

“Let me run to the bathroom and I’ll be right there,” I said.

Mom didn’t leave my side. “I have a dress for you.”

Oh Jesus Christ. I didn’t want to know what size she thought I wore. I held my garment bag higher. “I brought clothes for the wedding, Mom.”

“Did you bring pants?” Her tone was disapproving. “I have a dress.”

“I brought a dress.” I left everything in a pile in the hallway and edged into the bathroom like I was trying to slip through without letting Ollie out.

Once in the bathroom, I breathed all the way out for the first time since I walked in the door. I’d made it through the initial once-over. After peeing and washing up, I stared at myself in the mirror, trying to figure out what she saw. I’d had my hair cut recently, and I noticed the gray more when it was really short. My eyes were bloodshot after the drive. My bra wasn’t my best one, but my shirt and jeans looked okay.

I shook my head and gave up. The moment I stepped over the threshold I was thirteen years old again, chubby and awkward with zits on my face and braces on my teeth. I was forty-five years old and I was still a fucking child in her eyes. I wanted to climb out the window and run, but dinner was waiting, so I opened the door and headed back into the kitchen, holding my head as high as I could.

There were only three places set. “Just us tonight.”

“Asher and Seth have soccer tonight,” Mom said, as if she was reminding me.

“They’re on separate teams this year,” Dad said. “It’s a pain in the ass. What can I get you to drink?”

“Just water is fine.” The only thing worse than feeling like a kid again was the awkward first dinner, when I was treated like a guest, at least until I offered to do the dishes.

“I have tea, too,” Mom said. I’d come up with the wrong answer. “I’ll get you a cup.”

I saw Dad’s eyebrows jump, but he just set down my water without saying anything and sat at the end of the table.

She’d made a corned beef and mashed potatoes; one of her few really good meals. I never knew whether anything else was going to be edible or how often we’d be offered food. Sometimes someone was shoving cookies or snack mix or sandwiches at me constantly, but other times, there were only two meals a day, and my mother complained about how full and bloated she was. “This looks wonderful.” I helped myself to a couple strips of meat when she passed me the plate, not too little to look disinterested, not too much so as to get a disapproving scowl for overeating.

“Have you heard from Kevin lately?” Mom asked.

“It’s been a few weeks I guess.”

“Rachel just got tubes in her ears. All five of them so far, and I’m sure Jeremiah’s not far behind.”

“It helps, though, doesn’t it? Keeps them from having ear infections?”

“Well, yes, but I hate that they need to have surgery when they’re so young.”

“It’s a good thing,” Dad said. “You kids were sick all the time. All winter long, every winter.”