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He chuckles. “I’m sure it needs some work but it’ll come in handy.”
“Look, I was gonna get you a cell phone too but I figured I’d let you pick one out. I couldn’t remember if you were an Apple or Android guy.” I smile.
“Hell, I don’t care which. Just having the internet at my fingertips will be like a dream come true,” he says, chuckling. “But you’re probably gonna have to put it in your name or whatever since I’ve been pretty much MIA on my credit report for the last six years. I can only imagine what my score must be.”
“Yeah, no problem. We’ll go out this afternoon and get that set up for ya.”
“I need a new driver’s license first, though,” he reminds me.
I rub my forehead. “Ah, yeah, sorry. Don’t think you can do that today though, gotta make an appointment. I’ll do that from my phone.” I pull up the DMV website and tell him what dates are available. “Friday work?”
He laughs. “What else would I be doing?”
I head over to him and wrap my arms around him. “I’m so glad you’re home. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
I try to pull away but he pulls me tighter, and I can feel his chest heaving. “I’m sorry I putyouthrough that,” he says, his voice squeaking. “I’m sorry Mom died and you were left to face this shit all alone. It wasn’t fair. I can’t imagine how disappointed she was in me.”
I do pull back this time, seeing his eyes are red. “She wasn’t though. We know you didn’t mean it. We know you just made a mistake. And we both knew that you’d spend the rest of your life making up for it.”
“I wrote the lady’s husband and daughter a letter from prison telling them how sorry I was. I don’t think it made a difference, and it really didn’t make me feel better. I just wanted them to know I didn’t mean it. That it was a mistake.”
“I’m sure they appreciated it and knew it was an accident. The dad opened up a drunk driving charity, I heard.”
He nods. “I don’t blame him. I swear I wasn’t drunk though... my phone...”
I put my hand on his arm. “I know. It’s okay. Let’s put it behind us. Maybe you can do some charity work or something.”
“Funny you say that, because I was thinking about doing Doctors Without Borders or something like it with my PT skills. As soon as I get my licenses and stuff back up.”
“That’s a great idea,” I agree, smiling and wiping my cheeks. I head to the fridge and pull the six-pack of beer up by its handle. “I’m gonna go and let you get settled. I’ll take these with me.”
“Leave me one?” he asks.
“You’re sure?” I ask. I know Eric wasn’t an alcoholic. Sure, he partied a little too much but it did cause his life to change.
He nods.
I pull one out of the case and put it on the fridge’s door, then close it.
“Oh,” I say, pulling a card out of my pocket and putting it on the kitchen counter. “This is a Visa debit card. There’s like two hundred bucks on it. Go get some clothes and a haircut. Your hair looks terrible.”
He laughs. “Yes, it does. I had to trade commissary stuff for haircuts with amateurs. It was awful. Most of the time I just shaved it.”
“Go get some food and stuff, too.” I grab a pen from my purse and jot my number down on Mom’s grocery list she kept magneted to the fridge. “Here’s my number, use the house phone to call me.” I point at the cordless phone hanging on the wall.
“Thanks,” he says, walking me to the door. “I’ll be okay. I plan to take a very long, very hot shower, and then literally spend the rest of the day alone in silence.”
“I understand.” I open the screen door to leave. “Oh, and don’t forget about Friday night. A welcome home party for you at Silver Park. It’s a new pub but you’ll have your phone by then so you can use the GPS to get there. Or I can pick you up. That won’t be a problem, the brewery. Right?”
He shakes his head. “Not at all. I can’t wait to see everyone.”
“Love you,” I say, kissing his cheek. “Call if you need anything.”
***
Ifidget with the humongousring on my finger. I felt bad for taking it off when I’d picked up Eric four days ago, but Carter and I decided it would be better to tell my brother about us together. We didn’t think he’d be upset, but we weren’t sure.
“There’s the guest of honor!” I say, watching Eric as he walks through the front doors looking so much better than he had. His sandy hair is cut short and he looks very nice in new jeans and a green button-up shirt. His light-brown eyes have a sparkle to them I hadn’t seen since before he went to prison.
