Chapter 1
Autumn
The screech of packing tape sealing up the last box echoes in the empty room. I slide myself over to lean against the wall, relieved that this part is over.
Ten years ago, I moved to Wisconsin. Not quite across the world, but far enough away from my home in Michigan.
I was eighteen years old with no solid plan.
I had no idea if I’d move back after school, or if I’d stay here.
As cliché as they come, I just knew that I needed to get out of my hometown, and college gave me the perfect escape route.
I surprised everyone by leaving, even my parents.
They all assumed I’d go to one of the local colleges, like almost everyone else from our class planned to, including my closest friends.
No one even knew I applied out of state, and when the acceptance letter came, it stayed quietly in my dresser drawer for six months.
I knew my parents would try to stop me, especially my mom. I’m an only child, and they had just settled their divorce. My dad was the one to move out, so my also leaving was the last thing she would want.
Not that my dad would miss me less, but he’s quite different than my mom, very quiet, stoic, and serious.
His emotions are locked tightly away in a safe, while my mom’s are hanging on the hem of her sleeve.
She is undoubtedly a lover and loves hard.
If she didn’t hug and kiss me at least twice a day, something was wrong.
I don’t mean to make my dad sound like a jerk, because he isn’t.
He was a great dad, and I knew I was his little girl, without the constant shower of affection.
When I was little, he played with me and did all the doting dad duties, but once I started ‘coming of age,' I don’t think he knew how to handle it, so he tagged my mom in the ring.
I’ve wondered if my mom’s constant attention would have been different if I had siblings. I don’t know if I was an only child on purpose, but I’ve never asked. I was always afraid of the answer because I could not see my mom not being open to more babies.
The differences in their personalities always intrigued me, and I also used to wonder if it ultimately caused their split.
There was never much PDA between them besides a quick kiss in passing. As a kid, I never thought twice, but as an adult, I can understand how that might not have worked for someone like my mom.
Given that they never fought in front of me, the real reason for their split also remains a mystery. One that I’m not sure even warrants an answer after all this time.
I was quiet about my plan to leave because my friends would try and talk me out of it, too. They all kept talking about how great it was going to be, how everyone would still be together, and how nothing would have to change, but that was exactly what I didn’t want.
So, graduation came and went without a word about it. Once that was all over with, I finally told my parents. Obviously, they needed to know first. I knew I would need their help with dorm stuff and moving.
The next person I told was Kory, my closest girlfriend. She was disappointed but didn’t fight me too much because she knew why I wanted to go. We spent most of that summer with it as our little secret—all the way up to the week before move-in day.
When I finally told everyone else in our friend group, they were confused for a hot second, but quickly moved on to their upcoming plans and excitement for their own new chapters.
The only one who didn’t immediately move on to the next topic of conversation was Jimmy, my other closest friend.
He asked me ‘why?’ a hundred times, but I never told him the whole truth.
Only that I wanted the whole college experience, including living on campus, it wasn’t not the truth, just not the full truth.
The night before I left, he and Kory came over for dinner and to say goodbye. My dad came for the night, too, since we had to leave so early the next day.
I remember it being so awkward for my parents, but I hoped it would also be a good turning point.
They were already getting along pretty well for that fresh, post-divorce stage, but I didn’t think they had spent much time alone since separating, if any at all.
I expected the sevenish-hour drive home after dropping me off to be interesting.
I was thankful for the dinner. We all sat around the table together talking, laughing, and ignoring the elephant in the room for as long as possible.
Even though we were all trying to ignore it, I could see the confusion in Jimmy’s face the whole time.
He was acting like he was happy, but I could tell he wasn’t.
I also knew, well suspected, that he knew there was more to my leaving story, but he never said anything, and that only solidified my decision.
They stayed pretty late into the evening, much past dinner. My dad had to finally kick them out, unable to avoid saying, ‘Four a.m. sure comes quick.’
Kory left first, teary-eyed and squeezing me to death. She made me promise a hundred times to call her every day. We wrapped our pinkies together, officially binding the promise, then she finally slumped into her car and drove away.
Jimmy had to wait for a ride since he didn’t have a car at the time.
That gave us time to be alone on the porch, which I wasn’t sure if I wanted or not.
All that accompanied us in those patio chairs was the August breeze and awkward silence; no words were spoken.
I still don’t understand why he didn’t take that time to say anything. Ask anything. Do anything.
Eventually headlights pulled into the driveway, so we stood up and hugged.
My stomach flipped, and I knew I would miss that.
Something about his hugs was always my favorite.
Finally, I felt sad and didn’t want to let him go.
My best friend since kindergarten, I couldn’t remember life without him in it.
I tried to just soak it all in, but at the same time, not forgetting my plan and the reason behind it. I held onto him to absorb the memory. Even though I wanted to leave it all behind, I didn’t want to forget what that felt like.
That time, it was me standing there, teary-eyed.
While still imprinting the feeling of his hug, I told him I would miss him.
He told me he’d miss me too. When his mom beeped the horn, I realized I didn’t know how long we had been standing there like that.
We stepped away from each other, and I remember that he looked just as sad as I felt.
“See you around, kid,” he said with a glossy-eyed half smile.
I laughed like I always did when he called me ‘kid.’ He started that when he turned thirteen. Turning thirteen meant he was a teenager, but I was still only twelve, which meant I was still ‘just a kid.' Even once I too became a teenager, he continued calling me that.
“Yeah.” I told him, “See you around.”
But I didn’t. That was the last time we saw each other or even spoke.
And now, first thing in the morning, I’m going back. Thanks to social media, I know most of my old ‘friends’ never left, including Kory, Jimmy, and his now wife.
I really don’t know what led me back. After finishing undergrad, I got this apartment, and at that time, I honestly never thought I’d leave. I was so happy here. With few distractions, I blew through nursing school and landed a great job right away.
Until about eight months ago, I would have said I was never leaving.
I went back once, the first Christmas break after I left, but I had been very set on not ever going again.
So, my parents came to see me for the majority of the holidays through the years.
Yet one day, out of nowhere, homesickness finally set in and abruptly became overwhelming.
When I found myself emotional about everything relating to home and just wanting to be around my family again, I knew I wasn’t going to last much longer.
Then the feelings got worse. Without my prompting, Kory sent me a job posting for an afternoon shift lead nurse at the hospital near home. I hadn’t even told her about my nostalgic emotions yet; she just knew things like that somehow.
I applied instantly, and they called me the next day for an interview. By the end of the week, the job was mine, and I gave notice to my current boss and landlord.
I actually did both of those things before even talking to my mom to ask if I could stay with her. I knew she would say yes, though, that phone call was more me telling her I was coming home rather than asking. She was elated.
This living room now looks incredibly sterile. I wasn’t allowed to paint, so I did everything I could to decorate the walls and bring some life into the place anyway. I forgot how unpleasant plain white walls looked until everything came down.
I stand up and do a walk-through for the millionth time to make sure nothing gets left behind. I see a few bobby pins sitting in the bathroom. As I pick them up, I notice my reflection in the mirror.
I’ve never been one for trends, so my sandy blonde hair has always been the same—long layers with full bangs. My forehead is far too big to ever go without them. I get a trim every two months to keep the length perfectly at my eyebrows.
My eyes, which occasionally change between a bright blue and light blue, are looking rather icy today. I love them when they are like this. With luck on my side, I haven’t gained much weight since high school, still wearing some of my favorite shirts and hoodies.
After just spending the last few minutes strolling down memory lane, I stare at myself and shake my head at the irony of this whole situation. I left a decade ago because I didn’t want things to stay the same. But here I am at twenty-eight, looking exactly the same as eighteen.
That thought leads me to the kitchen, where the pile of mail from yesterday is sitting. Adding to the irony is that in that pile is an invitation to our ten-year ‘Homecoming’ high school reunion. I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried.
Details explained that due to many scheduling conflicts during the summer, they decided to do it in the fall, when a lot of people are home for the holidays.
That led to the ‘Homecoming Dance’ theme, which also usually happens in the fall.
I don’t know if I care much about going, but I also know that if Kory went behind my back to give up my address, she would insist we go. Kory.
She really was and is my best friend. We kept that front porch promise and did, in fact, talk almost every day. I tried to make new friends here, but no one ever really stuck. Maybe I’m the problem, but meeting new people never really lived up to the hype.
We were in the fifth grade, both ten years old, when she came to our school.
She was the new girl, but didn’t act like it.
She had the same outgoing personality back then that she does now, and fit right in.
She made friends easily, and at first, that didn’t even include me.
Not for any reason in particular, she just hadn’t made it to me yet.
Once we were assigned to be science fair partners, it was over.
We spent a weekend together working on our experiment, which was What Brand of Bubble Gum Blows the Biggest Bubble.
We laughed, chewed, blew, popped, chewed and blew again, picked sticky strings off our chins, and then laughed some more.
Baseball gum blew the biggest, then Hubba Bubba in second place.
I don’t remember a weekend after that when we didn’t at least see each other on one of the days.
Kory was my person, and even with time and distance, that never changed.
She’s made a few trips to visit, and then once FaceTime became a thing, we were on it all the time.
To this day, she knows everything there is to know about me, and I with her.
She knows everything about everyone I’ve met here, the friends I tried to like, and the guys I tried to date, including the two that actually hurt.
Plus, she was the only one who had always known the full truth behind why I left, which meant she was the only one who knew why I was so nervous to come back.