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I took a step forward and then another. Finally, I met his gaze and placed a light kiss on his cheek. My parents looked on with a healthy dose of suspicion.
“I’ll call you in a bit.”
He gave a brief nod, and then I watched him walk out, resisting the urge to follow him. I swallowed the lump in my throat, knowing I would make things right.
Turning back to my parents, who were unusually quiet, I took a deep breath and prepared to put them in their place. “Is this a habit now? Showing up at my door, unannounced?”
They seemed a bit taken aback, but you know what? So was I. There was such a thing as a phone.
And I was an adult.
Maybe one who didn’t cook or visit the grocery store nearly enough, but I still didn’t deserve to be treated like a child.
“We were worried,” my dad said as my mother took the opportunity to make herself at home.
I didn’t hold that against her. As mad as I was at them, I never faulted her for taking care of my dad. She wheeled him over to a spot near the living room couch, making sure he was comfortable before taking a seat next to him. I sat down across from them, tucking my feet under me as I leaned back in the chair.
“How are you even here?” I asked, knowing the ferry schedule and my dad’s illness.
There was no way they had driven all night and taken the first ferry in. That would have been way too much stress on both of them.
“We drove down yesterday and stayed at an inn in town.”
They had stayed at Molly’s. It was the only inn I knew of. Ocracoke had hotels, B-and-Bs, and tons of rentals, but Molly’s place was unique.
“And you didn’t think about just calling me?”Like a rational person.
“You’ve barely spoken to us since you left. And when you broke things off with Curtis…” My mom paused before moving on altogether. “It’s been weeks. How much longer will this go on?”
How much longer will this tantrum of yours last?That’s what she wanted to say.
My dad, who was usually my biggest supporter—in life and even against my own mother—remained silent. I took a deep breath and looked out the window toward the driveway. It was empty now, Macon’s truck long gone.
“You didn’t even like Curtis,” I said. It was petty, but I was angry.
“Yes, we did,” my dad shot back a bit too quickly.
I tilted my head and raised an eyebrow.
Finally, he threw up his hands, looking exasperated. “We would have loved him.” He paused. “If you did.” Seriously, did everyone know? They didn’t think to clue me in? “We’ve seen you in love,liebling, and that…that was affection at best. Curtis is a nice man, maybe a bit shy for my taste.”
“Everyone is a bit shy for your taste, Papa.” I rolled my eyes.
“True.” He chuckled. “But if he was your chosen, I would have loved him as I loved…” His voice cut off, and I nodded.
I wasn’t the only one who had struggled with Daniel’s death.
My parents had loved him like one of their own.
And they had grieved him just the same.
“When are you coming home?” my mom asked, getting back to the point.
My father was passionate in everything he did. My mother, the epitome of pragmatism.
I am home.
“I’m not,” I stated.
