“Good,” I said, pulling him into a hug. “And if you ever sell your shop to some asshole, I’ll be back here to fight it tooth and nail.”
He snickered. “Deal.”
I opened the front door, listening to the bell rang overhead for the last time. “You’ll watch after them? Emma and Lizzie?”
“I’ll make sure their tea and cocoa is never too hot.”
After we said goodbye, I headed out of the shop, jumped into my car, and started driving with Zeus. We drove for hours. I wasn’t certain where I was going, or if I even had a place to go, but mindless driving made sense to me right then.
I pulled up to the house after three in the morning, and their porch light was still on. As a kid, I’d stayed out past curfew way too often and had made life a living hell for them. Despite that, Mom always kept the porch light on to let me know that they were still waiting for me to arrive back home.
“What do you say, boy? You say we go in?” I asked Zeus, who was curled up in the passenger seat of the car, wagging his tail. “Okay. Let’s go in.”
Once I stood on the porch, I knocked a total of five times before I heard the door unlock. Dad and Mom stood there in their pajamas staring at me, almost as if they were seeing a ghost. I cleared my throat. “Look, I know I’ve been a shit son this past year. I know I disappeared and didn’t say a word. I know I’ve been lost and wandering around in my mind trying to find my way. I know I said some terrible things before I left, blaming you for what happened. But I…” My hand brushed over my mouth before I stuffed my hands into my jeans pockets. I started kicking around the invisible rocks on the ground. “I was just wondering if I could stay here for a while. Because, I’m still lost. I’m still wandering. But I don’t think I can do it alone anymore. I just need…um…I just need my mom and dad for a while, if that’s okay.”
They stepped onto the porch, wrapping their arms around me.
Home.
They welcomed me home.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Elizabeth
“What do you mean he left?” I asked Mr. Henson. My hands gripped the railing of the countertop in his shop as he stood making me a cup of tea on Friday afternoon. I’d just dropped Emma off at her grandparents’ house for their sleepover, and seeing how I hadn’t seen or heard from Tristan in a few days, I was at my breaking point. I needed to talk to him, or at least know that he was okay.
“He left two days ago. I’m sorry, Liz.” Mr. Henson’s bubbly personality was gone, which scared me.
“When will he be back?”
Silence.
My hands landed against my hips and I tapped my shoe against the wooden floor. “Well, where did he go?”
“I don’t know, Liz.”
I chuckled, nerves and worry building inside of me. “He won’t answer my calls.” My jaw shook as tears formed in my eyes. My shoulders rose and fell. “He won’t answer my calls.”
“Honey, you both have been through so much. And I know this has to be hard for you…”
“No. Not for me. I mean, I can deal with him not answering my calls. I can deal with him ignoring me. But I have a five-year-old wondering where Tick and Zeus are. She’s wondering where her two friends went. She’s asking why Zeus hasn’t been over to play catch or why Tristan hasn’t been reading to her at night. So yes, I’m sad that he’s not talking to me, but I am beyond pissed off that he left Emma like that, without a word, without a thought. I’m pissed off that she’s been crying because she misses them. And it is breaking my heart that I cannot even tell her where he is or if he’s coming back. He said he would fight for us, but when it came down to it, he didn’t even try.” My voice crackled. “She deserves better.”
He reached his hand out and placed it on top of mine. A slight wave of comfort flew through me. “You all deserve better than this.”
“Okay, I better get going. Just, if you hear from him…” My words faded off. I wasn’t certain if I wanted Mr. Henson to tell Tristan to come back or to go to hell. So I left the shop with a clouded mind.
That night, I was in bed before ten. Not sleeping, but just staring at the ceiling in my darkened room. I turned on my side and stared at the emptied space next to me. When I received a call from Kathy saying that Emma wanted to come home early that night, I would’ve been lying if I said I wasn’t pleased.
When she came back, she lay beside me in my bed. I read her a few chapters from Charlotte’s Webb in my best zombie voice, and her giggles reminded me of the important things.
After the story, we were both on our side, facing one another. I kissed the top of her nose, and she kissed mine.
“Mama?” she said.
“Yes?”
“I love you.”