11.
Justin
I return from the lab to my desk after another wrong path with our battery. The cooler air in here offers silent solace as I settle into my cluttered space. I instinctively reach for my phone, thumb-scrolling through notifications until I pause at a missed call from Dad. Odd. He never calls.
I search for a reason he’d call me and decide he and Thea are most likely getting a divorce. She’s closer in age to me than him, and I know from experience he’s difficult to live with.
“Hey,” Crystal’s voice slices through my thoughts as sudden and arresting as lightning. She closes the office door with a decisive click. Our private world seals shut. “Theo told me it didn’t work.”
“Unfortunately.” I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “We can’t figure this out. We make one minor change and then something that has always worked fine goes haywire.”
“Are you going to work late?”
I look around my desk at all the piles. “I have so much to do.”
She pouts, eyes glinting with a disappointment she doesn’t voice, and I’m struck by how well she understands the demands of my world. “Maybe I’ll see if Teagan’s up for some trouble,” she muses.
“That sounds better than going through the financial report for my meeting with SHN.” I try to smile. “Have fun for the both of us, okay?”
“Always do.” She winks and slips out of the office, closing the door behind her.
My phone vibrates, slicing through the silence Crystal’s departure left behind. I hesitate for a fraction of a second before I swipe to answer.
“Justin?” The voice on the other end is my father’s, but it sounds like it’s been dragged over gravel. It’s raw, almost unrecognizable. My spine stiffens; this isn’t about a divorce.
“Hey, Dad. What’s going on?” My voice is steady, betraying none of the concern that’s starting to claw at my insides.
“Justin,” he starts, and there’s a tremor in his voice. “I’ve got bad news. It’s cancer, colon cancer. You need to come home.”
The world tilts slightly, as if those words have knocked something out of alignment. Crystal, who is walking back by with Teagan, pauses, her hand on the doorknob. She must read the shift in my body language. I feel like I’m made of stone. She comes back in and stands close, her touch light on my arm.
“Have you told Brandon or Patrice yet?” I ask, though I’m not sure I want the answer.
“They don’t know,” he says, bitterness seeping into his tone. “They’re traitors, living in their own worlds. I… I don’t want them here.”
There’s a pause, and then another voice filters through, warm and female. “Justin, it’s Thea. Please, honey, come back to Colorado. Your father needs you.”
“Okay,” I say because what else can I say? “I’ll come.”
Crystal squeezes my arm, a silent vow of support, and I realize she hasn’t left my side.
After ending the call, I pull up my banking app. The numbers stare back at me, accusingly low after the indulgence of our Napa getaway. There’s no wiggle room for another plane ticket, especially not with the gouging prices of last-minute flights.
“Damn,” I mutter under my breath.
“Justin.” Crystal’s voice is soft but firm. “You need to go. Don’t worry about the cost.”
I look up at her, and it’s like she’s infusing me with strength, with clarity. “Yeah, I do.”
I go next door to the lab, where Austin, Rhys, and Theo are gathered. Their chatter fades as they take in my grim expression.
“My dad just called,” I explain. “He’s sick—in the hospital. I need to head back to Colorado for a few days.”
“Of course, man,” Austin says, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Take all the time you need.”
“Let us know if there’s anything we can do,” Rhys adds.
“Thanks,” I say, gratitude mingling with the anxiety in my stomach.
Back at my desk, I navigate the airline website, fingers a little numb as I click through the reservation process. A flight leaving in three hours stares back at me from the screen. It’s now or never.
“Booked,” I announce, more to myself than anyone else, as I shut down my computer and stand. There are calls to make, bags to pack, and goodbyes—however temporary—to say.
Crystal’s hand is at my back, propelling me forward and into the rideshare. Once we’re inside, it darts through the congested streets. We’re a tangle of urgency and frayed nerves, racing against the clock, against the weight of my father’s diagnosis. Every red light seems like an eternity, every honk and brake screech a discordant soundtrack to my mounting anxiety.
“Come on,” I mutter under my breath. We finally skid to a stop outside our place, and I’m out the door before the driver can fully brake.
“Pack light,” Crystal reminds me, her voice steady as she follows me inside. “Only essentials.”
In a flurry of motion, I stuff clothing into a duffel bag, my movements mechanical. Toothbrush. Charger. The bare minimum for an unknown number of days at my childhood home.
“Call your mom,” Crystal says, handing me my phone as I zip up the bag. She stands with me, Theo’s car keys in hand.
“Hey, Mom,” I say, the second ring barely complete before she answers.
Her voice is soothing, but I can hear concern in every word. I quickly relay what little I know. She promises that either Patrice or Brandon will be at the airport to pick me up when I land.
“Thanks,” I say, the lump in my throat making it hard to swallow. “I’ll see you soon.”
We climb into Theo’s car, the city seems to conspire against us, trapping us in its snarled veins of traffic. I watch precious minutes slip away on the dashboard clock, despite Crystal’s best efforts to navigate the traffic.
“Maybe… maybe I should’ve taken a later flight,” I murmur, second-guessing myself for the hundredth time.
But Crystal shakes her head. “We’ll be fine. Let’s just get you there.”
We pull up to the airport drop-off zone with no time to spare. I lean across the seat and press a quick, hard kiss to Crystal’s lips. “Thank you,” I whisper, shouldering my bag and bolting toward the terminal.
“Call when you arrive,” she yells after me.
Security is a blur of bins and conveyor belts. I half-jog, half-stumble to my gate, arriving just as they’re announcing last boarding call. The attendant gives me a tight smile as she scans my boarding pass, and I duck into the jet bridge, heart pounding.
The plane is packed, the air heavy with too many travelers crammed into a small space. My seat, 35E, is exactly where I don’t want to be—in the middle of the last row, wedged between a snoring man and a restless toddler, the omnipresent stench of the lavatory hanging like a foul cloud.
I buckle in and close my eyes. This is the longest flight I’ve ever faced, not in hours or miles but in the weight of what awaits me at the end. I’m sandwiched between realities, the past and the present pushing against me from either side.
My thoughts tunnel back through the years, to when my mother packed her bags and walked out, taking far more than just the contents of her closet. She left with my younger brother and sister. She begged me to come with her, but I couldn’t. I stayed with Dad, not out of loyalty or love, but out of fear of leaving him alone. I’d wanted us to be a family, but I soon realized the man who could command a lecture hall with his booming voice couldn’t navigate the silence of an empty house. My presence wasn’t enough to make him happy, yet I couldn’t muster the strength to leave. He mostly ignored me or criticized me, and I came to hate him for holding me back, for making me feel small, and now…cancer. The word is a stone in my stomach, heavy and cold. What am I supposed to feel?
I try to sleep, but slumber evades me, slipping through the cracks of my restlessness. Finally, the captain announces our descent, and relief washes over me. The landing gear hits the tarmac with a jolt that travels up my spine, grounding me back to reality.
I’m nearly the last person off the plane. The cleaning crew is already working their way down the aisles as I pass. But I move quickly once I’ve exited, as I can navigate this airport on autopilot. My family awaits. The thought should comfort me, but it only tightens the knot in my gut.
I take the escalator up from the train to the main terminal, and there they are. Brandon and Patrice stand waiting, looking more than a little anxious.
“Justin!” Patrice waves, her smile warm. Brandon just nods, but his eyes brighten as I approach.
“Hey,” I manage, my voice hoarse from the dry cabin air. “Thanks for the last-minute pick up.”
We exchange quick hugs, and they lead me to the car. We set off toward my mother’s house, and the cityscape blurs past, a smear of lights against the evening sky.
Our conversation is sparse, tiptoeing around the elephant in the room—Dad’s illness. We’ll have time for that later. Now, it’s about reconnection, about the strange comfort of being among those who share your blood, if not always your opinions.
We pull into Mom and Graham’s driveway, and the scent of home-cooked food wafts out to greet us as we enter the house. She’s laid out a spread of tacos, my favorite since childhood. It’s a simple gesture, but it anchors me, reminds me of better times.
“Justin…” She wraps me in a hug that smells of spices and warmth.
“Thanks, Mom,” I say, my throat tight.
Graham also hugs me, and then we settle around the table, plates piled high, and for a moment, I can pretend we’re just a family sharing a meal. Stories and laughter fill the spaces between bites, and the weight on my shoulders lightens, if only for the night.
After we’ve finished, I linger at the table, the tangy bite of salsa still on my tongue, and Mom leans forward, her eyes curious. “So, how are things with Crystal?” she asks.
“Actually, it’s going great,” I reply, feeling myself smile. “We just got back from a weekend up in Napa. It’s a balancing act, you know? Working and living together with Austin, Rhys, and Theo. It gets crowded.”
“Sounds like you needed the getaway,” Graham chimes in as he reaches for Mom’s hand.
“How is the battery working out?” Brandon asks. “I have a science fair project coming up if you want to throw it over for that.”
“You’d fail.” I chuckle, shaking my head. “But we’ll get it figured out.”
Later, I stand in the doorway of my childhood room. It’s unchanged from the summer I lived here between high school graduation and starting at Georgia Tech. I worked at Elitches, the local amusement park. I enter and drop my bag on the floor by the bed.
Graham appears, his figure framed by the hallway light. “Justin, if you need anything—anything at all—just let us know, okay?” His voice is gruff but kind.
Graham was the person who stepped in and took care of my mother, brother, sister, and me, even though I lived with my dad. He’s always treated the three of us as his own kids. And when my dad was putting pressure on me to stay in Fort Collins and go to Colorado State where the tuition would be free, Graham encouraged me to accept my spot at Georgia Tech.
“Thanks, Graham,” I say, the words thick in my throat. “I appreciate it.”
“We’re lending you the car to go up to your father’s tomorrow,” he adds before he turns away. “Be sure to give him our best and let him know we’ll come up at a moment’s notice if he needs us.” Graham is not a fan of my father, so this is an unexpected kindness.
“Will do,” I assure him.
The bed beckons, and I give in, sinking into sheets that smell faintly of fabric softener and something else, something like safety.
I thumb the screen of my phone, which casts a blue glow over the darkened room. The message I type to Thea is short, devoid of the emotion churning within me.
Me: Got to Mom’s safely. Heading up to see Dad in the morning.
My thumb hovers before I press send, the digital words a flimsy bridge across the expanding distance between here and what awaits.
The reply comes more quickly than I expect.
Thea: Looking forward to seeing you. He’s at Poudre Valley Memorial, Room 307.
With a heavy sigh, I switch apps and hit Crystal’s name, bringing the phone to my ear. I texted her when the plane touched down, but I did promise to call. The line rings twice before her voice, bright and clear, spills through. “Hey, you made it.”
“Hey, yeah, I’m at my mom’s.” I sink into the pillows, the tension of the day unfurling slightly at the sound of her voice.
“Everything okay?” There’s concern woven through her words, a tightness that tells me she’s still holding her breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“As okay as it can be, considering,” I admit. “It’s just…a lot to take in.”
There’s a pause, and I picture her nodding on the other end. “I can imagine. I miss you already.”
“Miss you too.” I close my eyes for a moment. “How are you holding up?”
“Ah, Theo and I are going out for drinks,” she says, a forced lightness to her tone. “You know, trying to keep busy while you’re away. But don’t worry about us, just focus on your family, okay?”
“Okay.” Just saying the word seems like a promise, one that’s heavier to carry than I expected. “Take care, all right? And give Theo a hard time for me.”
“Always do.” She chuckles, and the familiar sound warms me. “Call me when you can, Justin. We’re all here for you.”
“Will do.” I hang up, placing the phone on the nightstand, where its screen fades to black. With a weary exhale, I shut my eyes, letting sleep claim me, if only to escape all that’s going wrong in my life.