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He hung up and I tried to get my feet under me. I shuff
led to my dresser and unplugged my laptop.
I scanned prices for one-way tickets to New Bern. The airport was small, so there were no direct flights, but with a connection in Raleigh, it was still quicker than driving seven hours.
I booked a 7 a.m. flight. Next, I scrolled through Garrett’s account. I sent him messages on every one, including a text, and left a voicemail. I debated how stern to be, but decided he needed to know I was worried.
I hesitated about calling my mother. If I alerted her now she wouldn’t go back to sleep. She’d be a nervous wreck. There was no way to assure or comfort her. I held the phone in my hand, knowing I was making a decision that was possibly not mine to make.
I yanked the charger from the wall and stuffed it in my carry-on bag. I’d call her from the airport. At least then she’d know I was on the way. It would give her a distraction—something to focus on that didn’t involve picturing her son in a hospital or lifeless somewhere.
I turned the shower on and tried to wake up under the hot water. I was almost numb to what was going on. I went through the motions, pushing out the thoughts of my brother. I had to get to the airport. I had to get on the plane. I had to get home.
By the time the wheels skidded on the runway in New Bern, I had lost some of my resolve. Somewhere in the air on the short flight it had evaporated.
This wasn’t how I planned to return home for the first time. I was counting on Thanksgiving. I tried to hold on to the image of Vaughn seeing my town for the first time. I saw home with a new lens when he was in the picture. I imagined taking him to the waterfront. Showing him my own version of the Jefferson Memorial. Going to a pumpkin farm. Maybe even going on one of the Christmas light tours.
I powered on my phone and tapped his name. I needed to hear his voice.
It went straight to voicemail.
“Hey, it’s me.” I paused. “I had to fly home for an emergency. I’m ok, but call me when you can. Please.”
I closed my eyes. As much as I didn’t want to bring him into this, I suddenly needed him in it. I wanted him with me. He would know what to say. What to do. I was sure of it.
The flight attendant opened the door and I stood to pull my luggage from overhead. The plane was small. I exited onto the staircase and walked across the jet way.
A man in front of me dropped his scarf. I stooped to pick it up for him.
“Thank you.” He smiled.
“No problem.” I stopped in front of the retractable doors. I didn’t want to go inside. I didn’t want the nightmare to begin.
Because that’s exactly what was ahead of me.
20
There was a slight hum inside the airport. There were a few people milling around. It wasn’t far from the gate to the baggage carousel. In only a few steps I would face my father again. A man I hadn’t spent time with in close to a year.
Damn it, Garrett. Damn you for making me do this.
I often wondered if life would have been easier if my father had moved away instead of remaining in town after the divorce. He owned a cabinet business. It was unrealistic to think he would sell the company or try to move it to another location.
And my mom? What ties did she have to New Bern? She made the argument she couldn’t leave because of Garrett and me. But we had been adults far too long to latch on to that last thread of an excuse.
It was her enabling that allowed him to stay on this road. As long as she fed into Garrett’s needs, he would never truly be healthy.
The doors closed behind me. I walked through the terminal angry and bitter. Scared for my brother. Resentful that I had flown here under the most impossible circumstances.
His hands were stuffed in his pockets. I didn’t know why he still wore that floppy golf cap. In a small town like this it had become his signature look.
“How was the flight?” He walked toward me.
“Hi, Dad.” It felt strange to move in for a hug, but I put my arm around him. It was an automatic response.
“I parked by the curb.”
“What about security? Can you do that?”
