Chapter 40 #2
Loch says, “It’s not a wise bet to take.” He gets out, and we walk to the door.
Marina comes running down the steps and throws herself into my arms. “I missed you so much.”
“I missed you, too, kid.”
She drops to her feet and plucks at the skirt of her dress. “Not such a kid anymore.”
“Yeah. We’ll talk about that another time.”
“Huh?” She trails me up the steps. “Talk about what exactly?”
The sound of the trunk closing has me looking back. Noah has my suitcase, so I go inside the house. “Where are Mom and Dad?”
Marina wraps her arm around mine and rests her head against me.
“Mom’s probably out back. She cleans the pool to destress.
She’s been anxious all week and it finally came to a head this morning waiting for you.
One leaf made its way into the pool, and she treated it like a national emergency.
I think she just wants everything to be perfect for you. ”
“I don’t need perfect.” Wrapping my arm around my sister, I kiss her head. “I just need you guys. It’s good to see you.”
“You, too, Harbor.” Her feet stop at the edge of the rug in the living room. I walked a few extra feet, my eyes on Mom through the windows, and then I glance back at Marina.
She says, “I think I’ll give you guys some time together.”
My sister’s grown up without me. She used to be a clingy kid who would harass me into buying her sodas and stuff our mom didn’t allow.
My memories sneak back to the first time I met Lark at TJ’s convenience store.
I wouldn’t have been in the right place at the right time if it weren’t for my sister begging for a caffeine fix before we got back for the party that day.
Lark always believed in destiny and fate. I might hedge my bets on Marina.
I walk outside and say, “Hey, Mom.”
She turns back, her face instantly turning a shade of pink as tears overwhelm her. Doesn’t matter that her emotions get the better of her. My mom is beautiful, but her eyes lighting up when she sees me makes me happy I came back to Beacon.
I walk to her. She sets the skimmer down and opens her arms to me. She brings me into her fold and hugs me like she’s been saving up to do this for years. I guess she has.
Her head drops against me, and I hear her sniffling. “I promised myself I wouldn’t cry.”
“It’s okay.” I hug her tight. “It’s good to see you, Mom.”
Seeming to collect herself by sniffling once more and wiping under her eyes, she raises her chin. “You look . . . you look so grown up, Harbor.” I’ve changed on the inside, so maybe that’s reflected on the exterior. She touches my cheek. “You’re so handsome.”
“I take after you guys.”
My dad comes around the back corner of the pool house with a garden hose in his hands. “Where should we put the garden—Harbor. I didn’t know you were home. Hold on.”
He disappears again.
I turn to Mom and ask, “When did the two of you start taking care of the property yourselves?”
“We don’t, but we’ve rediscovered our joy of being outdoors when the weather is nice and decided to take on a few projects to spend time together.”
They’re cute. If it keeps a marriage together, I’m all for it.
My dad returns hose-less this time. “I had to turn off the water.” Embracing me fully, he doesn’t give me a pat on the back. Just a genuine hug. “I’m glad to see you, Harbor.”
“I’m glad to be here, Dad.”
Stepping closer to mom, he holds her hand, and says, “We made lemonade. I’ll go get it, and we can talk.”
“Where are my parents, and what have you done with them?”
“Eh,” my dad says, waving me off. “Figured you’d enjoy the lemon flavor after living in Italy. They’re known for their lemons and limoncello.” I like that he’s sharing facts about where I’ve been. It’s both entertaining and endearing.
Mom and I walk to the outdoor dining table and sit under the yellow umbrella. She reaches over and covers my hands with hers. “I’m just . . . the house feels right with you back in it.”
I wondered if I would feel awkward or uncomfortable being away from everyone for so long. That they all know the reason also played on my mind. What do they think of me? Did I lose respect? Or—
“Here we go.”
My dad sits down, and my mom fills the glasses. I take a sip and then look around the estate. “I always loved it here. I missed it.” Glancing back at them, I say, “I miss my family.”
“We’re just so happy,” my mom says, a tentativeness in the back of her throat. “I worry—”
“You’re happy but worried? What about?” I ask.
My dad rests his hand on her arm, and replies, “That you’ll be leaving before we have a chance to spend some quality time together.”
I think about Lark up in New Haven. Four hours and I could see her again. But should I is the question.
My mom says, “Thank you for always checking in.” She’s courteous enough to overlook the first few months after I left. It was probably the time when they were most worried. They should have been because I was a fucking mess.
After that, I refused to give up on this life. I didn’t with Lucas, and I wasn’t doing it now. “I feel good.”
“You look good, son,” my dad says. “Healthy. Happy. The life you’ve created is working for you. What brought you back?”
“I missed my family, so I learned what I needed to accomplish my goals and came back. To be upfront, I’ll be home for a week, and then I’m heading to the city. I decided that would be the best place to start my business.”
“So cars, huh?”
“High-end custom Italian cars,” I clarify.
“I like cars,” my mom says, “Maybe I should be your first customer.”
“As much as I appreciate the support, Dad, we’re talking a million base price. I wouldn’t let you spend your money like that.”
He whistles. “Wow, that’s impressive. I know there’s a market for collectibles.”
“I already have three orders. Once they’re delivered in six months, those will hit the street and internet, and I’ll get more orders.”
“What’s the maximum number of orders you can take at one time and still deliver?”
I like that my dad is not only holding me to the fire but pressing me to know my shit. I know it. “Twelve in production at one time with upward of thirty for the year in orders. Beyond that, I’ll need to build my own factory instead of licensing rights and using other manufacturers.”
My mom is wide-eyed. “Harbor, this is so impressive. You’re building something from nothing from your own dreams.”
“Yeah,” I say, grinning. “I’m pretty proud of myself. This is not something I ever thought I could do two years ago. I was going to be a doctor.”
“You would have been miserable,” she says, reaching over again to touch my arm in comfort. “Your heart was never in it, but you seemed so focused that I didn’t dare risk questioning you. I’ve learned from that. I now ask the necessary questions.”
That we all have learned something from whatever I’m calling it these days—mistakes, crisis, life—will serve us better in not only our communication but moving forward to living our lives to the fullest.
Marina peeks out the back door, and asks, “Are we interrupting?” I can see her excitement to spend time with me. I feel the same about her and my brothers as well.
My dad says, “Come on out.”
The three of them join us. It feels good to share some laughs and tell some stories, catching up and hearing about the basic things in their day like tests or a co-worker Loch finds distracting.
“One of the reasons I came back is that I need to tell you guys something,” I say, not hesitant at all this time. “I’m not sure there’s ever a good time to have this conversation, but it’s time the truth came out.”
Loch asks, “The truth about what?”
“Lucas’s death and what happened to me the day he died.”
My family is silent, eerily still. If I had a doubt, now would be the perfect time for one to sneak in. I don’t, though. I can’t live with this burden any longer. To truly live means to be honest with the people I care about, even at the expense of my cousin’s life being tainted by his own actions.
I spend the next half-hour telling them every detail, from the drugs to the burglaries to our fight about a pact we made years earlier.
It’s not a pretty story and shines a light on the ugly life he was living.
But it needed to be told. My soul would finally be freed from his for the first time since the day he died in my arms.
The shock and sadness were there, in their faces and their questions, but the tears that I’m here, that I’m back, that I was honest with them overshadows the rest. Once I reach the end, we stand and do a group hug, just like we did when I was little.
And it’s then that I realize I never lost them.
My family loves me as much as I’ve always loved them.
I just struggled to see it, to feel it to this extent, with my thoughts obscuring what was here all along.
Lying in bed after everyone has retired for the evening, I stare up at the ceiling with a smile on my face. As good as it feels to finally not be shouldering the pain of my secrets, I won’t be whole until I fix my mistakes.
There’s only one other person I need to make amends. And I have a feeling I’m two years too late, but that won’t stop me from trying.