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I plugged Derrick’s address into my phone and started walking. I could have hopped an Uber to get here but I needed more time to think than a car ride would give me.
The house came up sooner than I was expecting and I didn’t want to admit that I could absolutely see my mother living here but, I really could. It was almost annoyingly charming in a way our house had never been. I loved our house, it was the first place I’d really felt like I was home aside from Aunt Peggy’s, it wasn’t, however, what anyone would callcute.
This place, though, was downright adorable. And despite her not being here for long I could already see Mom’s touches; on the short staircase that led to the porch, on the door with its pine cone wreath. Our wreath, I realized, as a sticky, uncomfortable feeling bloomed in the pit of my stomach.
I knocked and heard the sounds of Stevie Nicks coming from inside the house—Mom’s music. I wasn’t sure why it made my nose burn with impending tears, and yet as the door swung open I was blinking frantically to stop them from falling.
“Chase,” Derrick faltered, but made a swift recovery. “Come in,” he said with a smile, stepping aside to show me in. He was maybe five-ten, still had a full head of hair that was salt and pepper, which always made a man look distinguished and a woman told she needed to invest in a good colorist. He was the kind of guy you could tell had probably been hot back in the day. A real heartbreaker. The thought had my hands curling into fists, because as smiley as he was now, that was going to end. It always did. I just hoped Mom was the one to walk away. She always recovered better when she was the one to end it.
“Hey Derrick, happy Thanksgiving.” I shrugged out of my coat, which he took and hung on the overstuffed hooks by the door. Family coat hooks. I didn't know why but looking at them made me itchy.
I followed down the hall, death gripping the pie dish. Why the hell did I think that coming here was a good idea? I should have opted for the passive aggressive phone call. Thinking an in-person confrontation was going to be better was delusional. I blamed my hangover.
Derrick entered the large open concept room at the back of the house just ahead of me, and I caught a glimpse of Mom and a younger woman seated together at the large kitchen island. I didn’t like the burn of jealousy in my chest at seeing them together.
“Chase?” Mom was surprised, but still guarded. “I didn’t know you were coming over?”
It took me a second to force words out through my tight throat. “H–Hi Mom, I hope it’s okay that I dropped by.”
“Of course it is,” she said, slipping off her stool. “This is Derrick’s Aubrey—Aubrey, this is my daughter, Chase.”
“It’s great to meet you,” Aubrey beamed.
“You too, Aubrey.” I didn’t want to hate her because she looked vaguely like my mother.
“Happy Thanksgiving. We missed you yesterday.”
“Happy Thanksgiving. I brought pie.” My pie. The pie I should have been eating alone in my apartment. Instead I brought it here. It was my guilt pie.
“Thanks, sweetheart, it looks amazing.”
“It’s one of Mack’s.” Now that I wasn't holding the pie I didn’t know what to do with my hands.
“How about I give you a tour?” Mom asked.
“Sure, that would be great,” I said rather than run from the house like I was desperate to.
Mom showed me through the house, from the small, light-filled entry to the four bedrooms upstairs. Everything was neat and welcoming—I could see her touches everywhere. We ended back where we started. The large kitchen, living and dining room was light and airy and it was clear that Mom loved it. I could admit that it was a lovely home, but I had a crawling sensation under my skin and tension rolling along my spine nonetheless.
Mom paused for a beat and looked at me intently. I wanted to apologize, but the words lodged themselves in my throat because what was I apologizing for? I didn't think I’d actually done anything wrong in this scenario, and I’d still come and brought pie. And now that I was here I didn’t want to talk about anything. I wanted to pretend that nothing happened and everything was fine. Easier said than done, considering we were standing on Aunt Peggy’s hall runner in Derrick’s house.
“Chase—”
“How about we get into that pie?” I interrupted, shooting Aubrey a plastic smile.
Her eyes darted between me and Mom before she asked, “Tea or coffee?”
I was dialingbefore I made it to the end of the block. It had been weeks since I’d heard from Nash. I knew he probably had bigger things to deal with than my mother getting married and starting a new family, but I wanted to speak to him all the same. It had been so long since we lived in the same city but, after that month he was here for the wedding, his absence now felt heavier. I fucking missed him.
“Hey Chase,” he answered on the third ring and I was already sniffing.
“Hey.”
“You okay there?” I could hear the smile in his voice, and I hated that he was back on the other side of the country.
“Uh-huh.”
“You sure?”
