***
I pulled the rental car up to my parents’ house. Over the years, I’d been back, but conversation passed between my parents and me had been minimal. I was grateful it’d been somewhat civil for the most part—that felt like more than I could’ve asked for years ago—but that was before I’dbeen made sergeant. And, well, I guessed I was hopeful my father would have more to say to me now.
So, instead of waiting for my sisters to run outside and climb into the car, as they normally would, I got out and walked up the flagstone path to the porch, which was just as devoid of personality as always. No planters. No wind chimes. The wrought iron and wicker furniture screamed of financial security, but none of it felt like home. Not the way Ricky’s mom’s house did.
I found the door locked, and when I tried the key, it didn’t work. I frowned and looked at the piece of metal in my hand, the one I’d been using my whole life, then tried again, certain I’d done something wrong. Still, it didn’t unlock the door. Suddenly, feeling even more like a stranger to the house I’d grown up in, I hesitated, letting my fist hover over the heavy oak door for a moment, wondering if I wanted to do this.
They don’t want me here.
I’m not welcome.
Rejection moistened the corners of my eyes, and my nose prickled with the hurt. But no, no, I wasn’t going to cry about this. I hadn’t shed a single tear since Dad had destroyed my book years ago, and I wasn’t going to start now over a damn key.
So, I straightened my shoulders, stood tall, and knocked.
To my surprise, it wasn’t Grace, Lucy, or even my father who answered the door.
Before me stood my mother, and, God, she looked awful. She was gaunt, hollowed cheeks and dark circles hanging heavily from her lower lids. Her hair was as muchof a mess as it’d always been, dry and straw-like. Her eyes were sunken and lifeless as she took in the sight of me standing in the doorway in my dress uniform, her lips pursed and cracked, in desperate need of water.
But she was dressed in something other than her robe; I could at least give her credit for that.
“Hey, Mom,” I said, taking in the sight of her blue dress.
“Am I supposed to salute you or something?” she asked, blinking her eyes up to mine.
I shook my head. “No.”
She hummed a short sound of acknowledgment, almost sounding annoyed, then stepped out of the doorway. “The girls should be home at any minute. You can wait in here.”
Lucy and Grace had started community college about a year ago with the intent of attending Harvard Law School after obtaining their bachelor’s degrees. It’d been wild to me to hear that their ambition was to follow our father in his footsteps when I wanted to be the furthest I could be from him.
Yet there I was, sitting on his couch.
Mom wandered through the living room and into the kitchen. I questioned if she had ever gotten better at cooking, but I didn’t bother to ask if I could stay for dinner and find out.
“Maxwell.”
I sucked in a deep breath before looking up into the cold eyes of my father. It’d been about a year since I’d seen him. The hair at his temples was peppered with a little more white now than it’d been last time. He lookedolder, but otherwise, he looked as put together, proper, and intimidating as always.
But things were different now than they’d been when I was younger.
For all intents and purposes, I was a man now. Taller than he was, stronger, and with a skill set he couldn’t even fathom having. While he might’ve been able to talk his way out of a dispute—and made a lot of money doing so—Icould kill. And for these reasons, I no longer felt threatened in his presence. Instead, I felt that we were, at the least, equals. Even if I was still desperate for his approval and acceptance.
I stood and removed my hat. “Hi, Dad.”
For once, I would’ve loved for him to approach and offer his hand. I knew better than to expect a hug, but a handshake … it didn’t feel like too much to ask. Yet he remained where he stood and purposefully tucked his hands into his trouser pants.
“They made you sergeant,” he said, giving away the fact that my sisters had told him of the promotion.
I offered a curt nod. “They did, sir.”
He huffed and tipped his head back, peering down his nose at me. “Surprised you would call me that when, I suppose, you expect me to callyousir.”
“No, sir. That’s not how it works.”
“That’s good,” he answered. “Because I never would, you know.”
“And I would never expect anything less,” I replied, even as I thought,But I could hope.
