Finding Solace

“I don’t need you to buy me things. I can afford what I need.”

“How is that exactly? How do you earn money? What do you do, Jason?”

Vague is best. “Odd jobs. Here and there.”

She stops pushing for answers I’m not going to give her. Standing, she asks, “Are you hungry? I was just about to make some pasta with sauce.”

“That sounds good.”

“You go settle in and clean up, and I’ll make dinner.”

I grab my bag and head down to the hall but stop when she adds, “It’s good to have you home, son.”

Home.

There’s that word again. It’s a word I haven’t known in some time. Am I home? I’m not really sure anymore, but my mom has always been a haven, so she deserves to hear that from me. I return to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “It’s good to be home.”

2

Jason

My childhood bedroom is a memorial to my golden years—the football star, devoted son, all-around class favorite. The whole town had their hopes and dreams pinned on me, so my fall from grace was inevitable. I was set up for it with every win, trophy, and accolade I received.

I take off my shoes and clothes, leaving my briefs on as I make my way down the hall to the one bathroom in the house. It takes a week for the water to warm up, but when it does, I let it pound the stiffness from my shoulders. With one hand propped on the tile and my head lowered, I’m still wondering why I came back. Why do I bother?

My mom?

Sure. It’s always good to see her. Doesn’t matter what I’ve done or how long it’s been since we talked, she opens her arms and smiles, still proud of me. She’s a good woman who works too hard. I’m going to change that and give her the life she deserves.

No one else in this town mat—lies. Lies. Lies.

Everyone knows it’s a lie. I saw it in their faces down at Red River. They can see through me when it comes to Delilah.

My only true weakness. Even after all this time.

The one weakness I can hide when I’m not here.

Married . . . fuck.

I push the thoughts of how I got my feelings all fucked up back to the dark compartment I keep them hidden in. I think that’s my heart, but I’m not sure anymore.

Can a man who’s killed another man really have a heart? It’s a mystery, even to me, if I’m not allowed to feel anything other than remorse. Remorse. Regret. I can’t seem to reason those emotions into my psyche, not when that same man wanted to kill the people I care about. I remind myself that it was a part of the job but not the job I signed up for. Who did I become once I left home? And is that guy truly gone forever like I want to believe?

The water rains down. I hope to have some sense of myself once the wicked is washed away, if it can be washed away. I have my doubts.

After showering, I wrap the towel around my waist and head to my room. I dig through old drawers until I find some boxers and flip through the hangers, choosing a black T-shirt that’s not too faded. Grabbing a pair of black jeans from a stack on top of a crate in the closet, I pull those on too. Black fits me better these days than the gold of my old uniform.

The leather of my shoes is wet from the road, so I pad to the living room like I still live here. My mom sets down two plates with the hot pasta on top of the coffee table.

She smiles, looking surprised. “And here I thought that dirt was freckles.”

“Ha. Ha.” Sitting on the couch, I lean forward over the coffee table, ready to shovel it in. “This looks good. Thanks, Ma.”

“It feels good to cook for someone else again.”

Despite the distraction of dinner and Wheel of Fortune playing on the TV, I can feel the slight tension in the room. I spin my fork around on my plate, taking a big bite. As I continue to eat, I don’t have to make small talk with her. We’re casual people, the kind that manners matter, and when we slip up, we’re forgiven. I keep eating and glance over at her. “What’s on your mind?”

That catches her attention and gives her the opening she’s been waiting for since I showed up on her front porch. “Are you going to tell me why you’re home, and why I didn’t get a heads-up?”

“Can’t a son visit his mom?”

“Any time, any day. You’re always welcome. I haven’t seen you in a long time, so I didn’t know if I should be worried or not.”