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“Good God, Nina!” Mary huffed. “So much for a smooth exit. We’re trying to not make this any more awkward than it already is!”
“Really,” Christina said. “Do you have to run into everything?”
“I didn’t see it!”
“You never do,” Mary said, their voices fading as they left the kitchen.
I waited.
Lola Green broke eye contact first and moved to the center island and pulled open her knickknack drawer. She dug through it for a moment, her brow furrowed. She sighed when she found what she was looking for and placed it on the counter in front of her and stepped back again.
She waited.
The silver key reflected a beam of sunlight pouring in from a window and flashed over my vision, and it was like my father was standing next to me. I could hear him chuckling on his way to breaking into full laughter. Everything about him reflected back at me from that key, that tiny key that was meant to be mine.
A little house, huh?
Yes.
I sighed and closed the distance to slide it into my hand. For a moment, I felt as if there was a warmth there, a flash of heat. I shook my head. Just from sitting in the sun, I told myself.
I didn’t know what else to say, if there was anything left that would make things right again. I had turned and started to walk away when she grabbed me by the wrist, her touch gentle but firm. Insistent.
I said nothing.
Finally, she said, “It’s good to see you.”
I breathed my relief. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“I missed you,” I admitted. “I missed everything about this place.”
She stroked the back of my hand. “I love you. You know that, right?”
“I know.”
“I wish you hadn’t come back.”
“I know.”
“You’re too good for this place.”
I shook my head. “This is my home. You’re my home. That will always be enough.”
“You should never have just enough.”
“I don’t want anything more.”
“Look at me,” she whispered.
I did. I had to. I couldn’t say no.
Her grip on my hand tightened as my gaze again found hers, and, as she searched my face, I could see that even in those three months, even in that short amount of time, she’d aged. There was no flash behind her eyes. The lines around her mouth looked deep. Her hair was dull as it fell onto her shoulders. She had been grieving, the same as me. And I knew then that while she had hoped I could make something of myself away from this place, and she’d spoken true that she had wanted me to become something my parents had never been, the real reason she had sent me away was so she could grieve. So I wouldn’t have to see her when she was lost. She had been thinking of me, yes, but for her own selfish reasons.
A shadow crossed her eyes for a moment, but then it was gone. Her breath caught in her throat as she choked out a watery laugh.
“What?” I asked her quietly.
