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“Do that.” A horn honks. Mr. and Mrs. Jasper are driving by and waving. They’ve lived on this street longer than anyone. They’re wonderful people. Give you the shirt-off-their-back types.
“I better get in the house.”
“If you need anything, call. Night or day, doesn’t matter.”
“Okay.”
He kisses my forehead, and we stand for a moment. “Call me.”
“I will.”
We part ways, and I go into the house. Mom and Dad are on the couch close together, listening to classical music. It’s really sweet. Perfect example of everlasting love.
“Bobby go home?” Dad asks.
“Yes.”
“Have a pleasant talk?” Mom inquires.
“Yes. I’m going to my room.”
“Okay.”
I take two steps up the stairway and stop. Bobby is right. My parents are good people, and they will understand. I turn around and plod back into the living room.
“Forget something, dear?” Mom asks.
“Can we talk?”
“Sure.”
I sit down in a chair. “I’d like to tell you why I’m home.”
