Chapter 34
Wyatt
Taylor’s car rolled to a stop in front of my mother’s house—my childhood home—and a wave of nostalgia broke over me. My fingers dug into the soft leather of the seat, palms clammy. I felt pressure to get out, even though the driver didn’t say a word.
Staring up at the house, it felt as though no time had passed between then and now.
I was seven years younger, lying on my mother’s kitchen floor in a pool of my own tears, and she was standing over me, yelling at me to get a grip.
Scolding at me for not being strong enough to deal with life’s curveballs and disappointments.
I swallowed, working to get my racing heart under control.
I didn’t want to walk in there feeling like some fragile thing.
Like someone she could cut down with her scathing words.
These were some of the tumultuous thoughts ricocheting in my head when I felt Taylor’s warm, comforting touch.
Her hand over mine, thumb stroking me gently.
“Don’t think this has to be it,” she whispered. “Just because we drove all the way out to Jersey doesn’t mean we can’t turn right around and drive back.”
I searched her eyes and found the sincerity behind her words. She really would do that for me. I’d never felt so seen and held in my life.
“I’ll be okay,” I said after a moment. “I wish Michael Keaton were here. I just need a second.”
Taylor smiled softly. “Take all the seconds. There’s nothing but time.”
And so we sat there on the backseat of her Bentley and waited for courage to find me.
It wasn’t even that bad when I thought about it.
My family wasn’t painfully dysfunctional or abusive.
That day with my mother, the last day, was an isolated incident fueled by her frustration with me.
Stoked by years of having to pick me up from countless tiled floors in the past. I knew she loved me.
Just like I knew seeing me struggle with my condition hurt her.
Leaving was more for her sake than it was for mine.
“Wanna know what I think?” Taylor’s voice called me back from the past. I nodded. “I think you owe it to yourself to go in and see them. I’ll be right there with you.”
I grasped hold of the bravery she offered and took a steadying breath. She was right. I owed it to myself. I was going to go in there and have lunch with my family, even if I had to borrow some of Taylor’s strength to do it.
The driver seemed relieved when I finally made up my mind and got out of the car, Taylor following close behind. She told him to be back in two hours, then took my hand, ambling at my slow pace as we walked up the drive.
“You’re sure this is okay, right?” she muttered under her breath. The front door was about a foot away, and Taylor was having second thoughts about ‘dressing down’ for her first time meeting my family.
I looked her up and down, chuckling softly. “I would’ve gone with sneakers instead of pumps, but you look great.”
“Sneakers and jeans.” She rolled her eyes. “I haven’t been a teenager in a while, babe. Don’t think that look would work for me.”
That made me laugh out loud just as we hit the porch. “If it can work for our president, I’m sure you’ll do just fine. Besides, this is a family lunch in New Jersey. There’s really no need for lipstick and pearls.”
The front door swung open to reveal my mother, much older than I remembered, wearing a crisp linen button-down and a bigger smile than I knew she had.
I felt Taylor’s side-eye burning into me when we noticed my mother’s pink lipstick and pearl necklace at the same time.
I think she’d also made a trip to the salon, because her hair was done up like she was about to go to Christmas mass.
“I thought I heard someone out here.” She beamed, and promptly engulfed me in a chokehold of a hug.
Heard someone… It felt more like she’d spent her day waiting at the door. I could imagine her peering through the glass every few seconds, watching for my car to pull up. And when I’d arrived, I could picture her waiting for the perfect moment to wrench open the door and make it seem natural.
“Hi, Mom. It’s good to see you.” Her soft floral scent clung to me as I released her. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed her until that smell misted up my eyes just a bit.
“Always good.” She looked like she was holding back some tears of her own. Then she held out a hand to Taylor and introduced herself as ‘Heather’.
“Wy-wy!” My baby sister jumped into my arms, her short crop tickling my nose. “Oh, my God, I can’t believe it’s you. Mom told me you were coming, but I didn’t want to believe it. I have so much to tell you.”
Her words were muffled by the way she pressed her face into my shoulder, but Sabrina continued talking nonetheless.
I wrapped my arms a little tighter around her.
There were only two years between Bridget and me, so we shared a close bond because of that.
But my mother had waited thirteen years before giving us Bina, which made her more like a daughter to me than a sister.
Budge and I used to take turns with pajama drill to give our parents a break. That, and also we couldn’t get enough of the pudgy little baby sister we’d spent years nagging them for.
“I’d like a turn too, you know.”
I peeked through Sabrina’s hair to see Bridget—or Budge, as we called her—standing beside my mother, arms folded across her chest in a huff but with a smile on her face.
‘You’ve got the world to mend’, she’d told me once. My heart burned with the need to tell her how well I’d been doing on that front. To tell her anything and everything, actually. It was suddenly so absurd to me, all the time I’d wasted by staying away from them for so long.
My mother was the one to break up the manic reunion and led us through to the back courtyard, where they’d set up a spread for lunch.
“Whoa, Thanksgiving already? That was fast,” I joked, taking up a seat at the garden table.
A canvas of delectable dishes left no open space, and the aroma made my stomach grumble in anticipation. Artisanal breads, cheeses, savory meats, vibrant salads… My mother had gone all out.
Taylor winked as she sat down beside me, a silent ‘Told you so’ in the wake of my misplaced anxiety about coming there today.
“You better eat up,” my mother said, taking the chair on my left. “I slaved away all morning over this.”
Budge scoffed. “Postmates did the slaving, and we put it on pretty plates when it got here.”
Light laughter fluttered around the table, dissolving the last of my nerves.
The winter sun was just for show, but despite the lingering chill in the air, the courtyard felt alive with a familiar warmth.
It was right then that a pang of sadness stole over my heart.
Was the time away that necessary? Had I been wrong to make them pay for something that was mine to deal with?
“A toast.” Taylor raised her glass of orange juice, and everyone followed suit. “To homes and the love that helps us find our way back to them.”
Here was my answer. Taylor had summed it up in a few words, the thing that had been plaguing me for so long.
Sometimes people leave, but sometimes they come back.
And that was okay. I met my mother’s eyes, and that was what I saw there—it was all okay.
I relaxed into the afternoon then, knowing that there would be no third degree about where I’d been or what I’d been doing.
None of that mattered. They were just happy I was there now, and so was I.
Conversation flowed easily after Taylor’s toast. A bit of catching up, a lot of ragging me about being head over heels in love.
My mother monopolized most of lunch with updates about people I could barely remember, which gave me a bonding opportunity with my sisters as we shared furtive looks across the table, biting our lips to keep from laughing and giving ourselves away.
Even though so much had changed, most things hadn’t.
Through it all, Taylor remained steadfast by my side, one hand on my thigh. She was there, just like she promised she would be.
“Which reminds me…” My mother pushed up from the table and disappeared into the house.
Bina was in the middle of another crazy college story, one we’d heard before but had Taylor in stitches.
“Should I be concerned that it’s when I got to the part where they were holding me over a keg by my ankles it reminded Mom of something?”
We were still laughing when my mother came back outside with a slim manila envelope in her hand. She took her chair with a wry grin.
“Is there something you want to tell us about your day drinking, Mom?” Bridget snorted another chuckle that got us going again.
But my mother didn’t join in. She got a weird look on her face and slid the envelope over to me.
Then I got weird. I looked at it, then back at her, my laughter quickly simmering down.
Budge and Bina did the same, and I could feel everyone’s eyes on me.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, the thought occurred to me that if I opened that envelope, I’d regret it.
The whole day would be ruined for whatever reason.
I didn’t want that. So I didn’t move to open the envelope.
“Do you remember when you left?” There was no accusation in my mother’s tone, but more nostalgic musing.
The atmosphere at the table grew somber, my sisters sensing that the elephant in the room wasn’t going to be ignored as we all thought, but dragged into the bright winter light of day.
Even Taylor became guarded, her grip on my knee squeezing a little harder.
I knew better. I’d known my mother the longest, after all.
This wasn’t that. She wasn’t getting ready to take me on a guilt trip for leaving.
“I remember,” I murmured, keeping eye contact with her. Her lips twitched, but all the smile swam in her gaze, not her face.
“Bina was in the dining room looking through colleges, and I-”