Chapter 6
Miles
Monday
I stepped outside of the car, closed the door, locked it, and faced the house. My mom was there, in the garden, quietly staring at nothing, her back to the entrance where I stood. She turned around and looked at me, and I gave her a soft smile.
What was going through her mind, I did not know. But I knew I wanted to be there for her.
We spent the rest of the night unpacking things from the boxes left in the living room — a little too much unnecessary stuff, in my opinion.
We probably didn’t need so many photos of the two of us, so many candles, or so many old ceramic souvenirs over a fireplace.
The fireplace. That was one of the things that had made me imagine possibly enjoying being here, at least until winter.
We’d never had a fireplace in the many homes we’d lived in across the city.
I got up to grab the plastic bubble wrap that held the last ceramic pieces and noticed a small, antique, almost archaic, ceramic horse wrapped in it.
I bet it was a gift from one of the past boyfriends I no longer remembered.
And then another thought crossed my mind: a thought of someone who made me ask myself if I could imagine being around for a little while longer.
Our conversation had lasted for a few minutes before I realized I had promised to come home on a schedule that I found important to keep. But even for such a limited period of time, it felt calming to be there with her — listening to her soothing voice and infectious laughter.
We parted with an “I’ll see you”, and something in me left the moment hoping I would really see her again. Soon.