Etching Our Way (Broken Tracks 1)

We get there and I hand the driver a few bills, telling him to keep the change, I don’t want to wait around for him to find some.

Mom’s brewing up a storm in the kitchen and the smell is so strong and inviting that I can almost taste it on my tongue.

“Mmm, smells amazing.” I moan and she turns around, smiling at me.

“It was your daddy’s favorite.”

“I remember,” I reply. “Anything I can help with?” I sit down at the table without waiting for an answer because I know she will only shoo me away.

“No, no. Everything’s under control, you sit and relax.” She starts humming and I get lost in the tune.

“Harmony?” she calls, standing in front of me now. “Are you okay? I called you three times.”

I sit up straighter. “Yeah, just tired.”

She raises her brows at me and sits down, folding a dish towel in front of her. “Come on, talk to me.”

I sigh, looking around the brightly colored kitchen, feeling like I’m having déjà vu from the first night I arrived. “Gerry called, he’s coming to see his parents and wants to meet with me.”

“He asked you to meet up with him?” she gasps.

I snort. “He did, he said he wants to apologize in person.”

“Little too late,” she scoffs.

“My sentiments exactly.”

She walks over to the kitchen counter, picking up a manila envelope. “Maybe this will make you feel better?”

I take it out of her outstretched hand tentatively, opening it carefully and staring at the document in my hands. Divorced at twenty-nine years old. I laugh and place it on the tabletop. “I guess I should feel more relieved than I do.”

“Of course you should, you’re a free woman now.”

“A single, twenty-nine-year-old divorcee that still lives with her mom. Nothing more attractive than that.” We both chuckle at my comment. “I suppose I should find somewhere to live.”

“One step at a time,” she replies, smoothing a hand over my hair. “You know you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need.”

I nod. “I know, Mom. I just…” I shake my head. “You’re right, one step at a time.”

I lean back in my chair, not bringing up the second thing that is on my mind because I don’t even know what to think about Tristan turning up and acting the way he did, never mind talk about it.

The rapid knocking on the door and Izzie’s squeal echo through the entryway before she comes barreling in, straight into my legs and screaming. I chuckle at the shocked look on her face at seeing me standing there and bend down, picking her up and spinning her around in a circle.

I’ve been waiting here since I finally got ahold of my mom when I left the studio, demanding that she bring them home right away.

To say that it was weird them not being in the house is an understatement. They’ve never stayed out before and the house was too quiet and too empty without them in it.

I smatter Izzie’s face with kisses, squeezing her against me as she laughs and starts to peel away, but I don’t let her, pulling her closer. Her sweet laughter brings a huge smile to my face but when Clay walks in, it falters.

His eyes shine with sadness and his shoulders are slumped down, almost like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders.

I set Izzie down on the floor and chuckle as she runs off, shouting that she’ll be back down in a minute.

“Clay?” I ask, crouching down and opening my arms to him. He hesitates, looking deeply into my eyes. My heart breaks from the broken, sad look in his as he takes a stuttering breath before he walks past me, his feet dragging on the floor. I turn, watching him as he walks up the stairs and down the hallway, closing his door with a soft click.

I keep my gaze fixed on the stairs, making sure that neither of the kids are here before I spin around to face Mom.

“How dare you,” I grind out between clenched teeth as I watch her face pale. “You took them there when I told you not to.”