Matt wasn’t ready to say good-bye.
Oliver had finally taken that step, finally done what was best for himself…and Matt wanted to do that too. He needed to. “Nothing,” he finally answered. “But I think it’s time to change that.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Three months later
Matt stood in front of his parents’ house.
Their car was parked neatly in the driveway. Everything looked exactly as it had a few months ago, yet somehow different at the same time. It was as though he was looking at it through different eyes.
He’d called a week before and let his parents know he would be coming back to Los Angeles because he didn’t want to show up out of the blue again. Plus, it would have been hard to keep from them anyway, considering he’d made a deal with his mom that they would speak on the phone at least once a week. It had become their routine the past few months, much like Oliver’s routine at Wild Side with Miles and Chance.
He’d never understood why he had kept himself at arm’s length with his mom. He and his dad had their issues, but it was different with her. Matt had apologized for that, and it was one of the changes he was making in his life; the distance he’d kept with them was one of his biggest regrets.
Matt closed the door of his new car before making his way up the familiar walkway to the porch. The second his foot hit the bottom step the door jerked open, and his mom stood there.
“I know it’s only been a few months, but it’s so good to have my boy home again,” she said before opening her arms. Matt walked into them and gave her a tight hug. “You feel like you’ve put on a little weight. Look like it too,” she added.
He pulled away and smiled at her. “It feels good to be home, Ma. And I have put on weight. Not a lot but about twelve pounds. I still look good, though.” He winked at her, and she waved her hand at him.
“You’re so silly. Of course you look good.”
Matt followed his mom into the house. His dad rose from the chair slowly as Matt made his way over to him. There was a pause, and then Matt just leaned in, hugging his father with the same strength as he’d just done with his mom. “Hey, Dad. It’s good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you too, son,” he replied.
When they parted, the older man moved to sit again. Matt reached out his hand to help him, but his father shook him off. “It’s okay, Matthew. I have it.”
He sighed, unsure why he expected anything different. Why Matt thought he would suddenly be okay accepting help. Trying not to be frustrated, he moved to sit on the couch beside his father’s chair. The three of them sat and talked for a little while about what was going on with Matt, his parents and things like that.
The talk was much like it always was between them, Matt and his mom carrying most of the conversation.
It was about an hour later that Matt’s stomach growled. “I’m getting a little hungry for dinner. I’ll order us a pizza,” he told his mom.
She shook her head. “No, no. I’ll take care of it.” She made the call, then walked over and grabbed her purse. “I’m going to head over and pick it up.”
Matt’s eyebrows pulled together. “Why didn’t you have it delivered?” It would make things a lot easier. It’s what they usually did.
“There’s a new pizza place I’ve been wanting to try—small business. Mom-and-pop place. I figured this would be the perfect time, but they don’t deliver.”
Matt started to stand. “I’ll go with you.” It would give them the perfect opportunity to chat some more.
“No.” She waved him off. “You had a long flight. Why don’t you stay here with your father and relax?”
It was then he realized what she was doing—giving him time with his dad, which they needed. Because sooner or later, they had to hash this out. It was important for both of them. For their relationship. Matt wasn’t going to run away from his life or his problems anymore.
He deserved better than that.
“Okay.”
She smiled at Matt, kissed his dad good-bye and then left.
“This is a funny part.” His dad pointed to the television but Matt didn’t look at it. He couldn’t.
“I need to talk to you for a second, Dad. Can we turn off the television?” The older man turned and looked at Matt. He had crow’s feet around his eyes and a little graying in his hair. When he was younger, he’d always thought his dad could do anything. There was a time when Matt wanted nothing more than to be like him and as he stared at his father, really looked at him—saw the sadness he carried in his bones, he thought maybe they were alike. Maybe both of them had expectations for themselves that never came to fruition, and they both struggled to forgive themselves for it.