David: Sunday dinner?
Me: Not today.
David: I’ll handle it.
Me: Thanks.
What he really means is that he’ll handle my little sister. It’s only a matter of time before she’s giving me her opinion on the situation, and I’m not in the frame of mind to listen to it or even attempt to deal with it today.
Picking up the remote, I flip through the channels and stop on the sports network. I mindlessly watch TV, waiting for her check-in text. She usually stops once on the way home and checks in with me. I’m almost asleep, unable to fight it, when my phone beeps.
Jamie: Bathroom break. I’m making good time.
Me: That’s good, babe. Be careful. I miss you.
Jamie: I miss you too.
Holding my phone in my hands, I make sure the ri
nger is turned on and let exhaustion take over. Hours later, I wake to my phone ringing. It takes me a minute to realize I’m still clutching it in my hands.
“Hello,” I say sleepily.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Jamie’s sweet voice comes over the line.
“I’m glad you did. Did you make it home?”
“Yeah, just got in. Did you sleep at all last night?”
“No.”
“Mike,” she sighs.
“I miss you,” I tell her before she can say whatever it is she was going to say.
“I miss you too. More than I thought possible for just being away from you for a few hours.”
“You ready for tomorrow?” I ask her.
“Not even close. I have to iron an outfit, go to the store, unpack—the list goes on and on.”
“I won’t keep you. I’m glad you made it back safely.”
“I love you, Michael,” she whispers.
“I love you too. We’ll talk soon.” I end the call and drop my phone to the bed beside me.
How am I going to do this?
I made it through my first two days at my new job without breaking down in tears. I’ve cried myself to sleep every night since I’ve been home. The job is good, people are nice, the office is great, but it’s not what I thought it would be. I know it’s only been a day, but the passion I once had to hold this type of position just isn’t there. I know a lot of that has to do with missing him.
I’m pacing my apartment, needing to talk to someone. My best friend is still on her honeymoon. I contemplate calling Olivia, but she’s too close; Mike is her brother, after all. I could call McKinley, but I don’t. It’s not lost on me that all of my friends in Kentucky are the ones I want to reach out to.
Thirty minutes later, I pull up outside of my parents’ house. I don’t bother knocking, choosing to walk on in. “Mom, Dad,” I call out.
“Jamie,” Mom says, surprised.
“Hey, you got a minute?”