The Journey Home

I stood and made my way to my car. As much as I wanted to blow off my parents’ dinner tonight, I knew I wouldn’t. I got in my car and turned toward the cleaners as I attempted to psych myself up for an evening of hearing my mother ask me over and over why I was single, then following up with telling all of her friends about my bizarre singleness. In my mother’s eyes, I was a failure, and she reminded me of this every single time I saw her.

“This is going to be one hell of a long evening,” I said to myself.

I APPROACHED MY parents’ front door and jumped when it flew open. I smiled at my mother, who stood before me, dressed to the nines.

“Mom, you look lovely this evening,” I said as I took her hand and kissed it.

“You’re late, Cale,” she hissed through her teeth.

I noted the empty driveway. “Doesn’t look like the party’s started yet, Mom.”

She shot me a dirty look and turned to walk back into the house. “Mitchel,” she called. “Your son is here. The party is not here, Cale.”

I rolled my eyes as my mother walked into my father’s office. When she was pissed at me, I was my father’s son. But when I did well, I was her darling baby boy.

I followed her into the office. My father was sitting behind his giant, dark walnut desk. The smell of the office instantly brought me back to my childhood. I’d loved to play in here, hiding from my mother under the desk. My father would laugh and tell me that she’d never find me, since she’d declared the office forbidden to me. But, according to my father, I was a breath of fresh air—I was always welcome.

“Evening, Dad,” I said with a smile, reaching across the desk to shake his hand.

“Cale, it’s good to see you, son. Let me just finish up this one thing and then we’ll head to the goddamn party your mother is forcing us both to attend.”

I attempted to hide my smile as my mother shoved her hands on her hips and glared.

“Do you know how important this man is to your career, Mitchel?” she asked in a shocked tone.

My father closed his laptop, stood up, and gave my mother a fake smile. “Do you know how badly I want to retire and travel the world? I can’t, though because my wife demands the world of me and, in order to keep up with her high maintenance lifestyle, I have to work my ass off and socialize with arrogant, stuck-up assholes.”

My mother gasped as my father winked at me and left the room.

My mother muttered a few words under her breath and grabbed her shawl and a clutch. She gave me a dirty look and shook her head as she walked out of the office, ordering me to follow her.

“Come on, Cale. Maybe we can find you a nice, young lady tonight.”

“Oh, God, Mom. Please don’t start that again.”

She threw her hand up, brushing me off. I followed my parents out and slipped into the back seat of a Bentley Mulsanne. “New car?” I asked as I settled into the seat.

“Your father’s new car.” My mother said as she powdered her nose.

“Nice,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

My mother sighed. “You’d have all of this, Cale, if you weren’t so damn stubborn. All you had to do was work for your father’s company. But, no, you had to go after some silly job.”

I shook my head and looked out the window. I had a degree in civil engineering with a minor in mathematics. I loved my job as a surveyor, and I loved traveling. It meant I could be hundreds of miles away from my mother, for weeks at a time.

“I don’t want to work for Dad, Mom. I like my job.”

She chuckled. “You live in a flat! You could have so much more. That’s why you’re single.”

My father had inherited a shit-ton of money from his father. My granddad was originally from London, England—some hotshot duke of something. He owned an English newspaper and lived half the year in the UK and the other half in America. We’d gone to England at least a half dozen times to see family before I was even sixteen. I always loved visiting their country estate.

“Mary, please,” my father said. “Leave the boy alone. I admire his ambition to make it on his own.”

My mother lowered her voice. “Psh, he’d have a wife by now if he would just do things my way.”

“You know, Mom,” I said, “I’m still in the car and can hear you.”

“Let’s just get there and pray that this evening is beneficial.” She said as she pulled out her phone and began texting someone.

TWO AND HALF hours later, I was standing in the corner, drinking another glass of wine while my mother moved from person to person. She was attempting to kiss up to some guy who owned a communications company. Every now and then, she’d walk a young girl up to me to introduce her, and I’d have to stand there and make small talk. I just wanted to get the fuck out of there and get home so I could pack my bags and prep to leave for London. I was making the trip to take care of something for my father regarding Gramps’ newspaper.

I was just about to find my father and tell him that I’d had enough when the hair on my arms began to stand on end. Something about the air in the room changed. It felt electrified. I caught a glimpse of a girl walking by, heading toward the exit of the hotel ballroom. Her light brown hair was piled on top of her head. She walked up to the guy my mother had been brown-nosing all night and kissed him on each cheek. He brought her in for a hug, then whispered something in her ear.

Something about her was very familiar. I started to head in her direction.

“Cale? Cale, darling, I’d like you to meet someone.” My mother grabbed my arm and pulled me to a stop. I turned to see a young girl standing there, smiling. She couldn’t have been more than eighteen.

“Ashley Jackson, This is my son Cale. Cale, this is Ashley. Her daddy owns a condominium housing development on Beaver Lake.”

I glanced at my mother and smiled before turning to Ashley.

“Really? I just bought a house on Beaver Lake.”

Lucy smiled. My mother didn’t.

“What? You bought a house? By yourself?”

I slowly looked down at my mother. “Yes, Mommy Dearest. I bought a house, by myself. I have this thing called a job. I work for my money.”

Ashley covered her mouth with one hand in an attempt to hide her laughter. My mother’s mouth fell open, and she stood there, stunned into silence. I downed the rest of my wine and set the glass on the tray of a passing waiter. I glanced back and saw the brown-haired girl leaving the room.

“Ashley, if you’ll excuse me. I really have to run. Mother, it was good seeing you again.”

“Cale, you’re being rude, darling.”

Glancing over to Ashley I smiled. “Ashley, excuse my rudeness. I really have to get going. Tell Dad I said goodnight, Mom.”

I turned and quickly made my way to the exit. When I pushed open the doors, I started jogging toward the elevators. The doors were shutting, but n

ot before I caught a glimpse at her. She was staring down at her phone, her face hidden in shadow. She appeared to be crying.

The doors shut and, just like that, she was gone.

“Fuck,” I whispered.

I pulled out my cell. I had the photo I was looking for saved in a specific folder. I tapped the screen and pulled up the picture.

There she was with her light brown hair and the most beautiful green eyes I’d ever seen. I studied her face as I stood in front of the elevator. When the doors opened, I stepped in and pushed the button for the ground floor.

I was tired of feeling like this. Empty. Alone. Searching for someone I’d never see again.

I headed out to the front of the hotel and hailed a taxi. When it stopped, I opened the back door and slipped inside.

“Twenty-seven Downing Court, please,” I said to the driver.

Ten minutes later, I was walking into my apartment and throwing my keys on the side table. I grabbed a beer and I headed for the sofa. As I sank into the cushions, I let out a sigh.

I turned on the TV and channel surfed as I drank. After a few minutes, I texted Jack.

Me: What are you doing?

Jack: Just got done fucking my date in the ally outside her apartment. You done hobnobbing?

Me: Yep.

Jack: Want to meet for a few beers?

I stared at Jack’s text. If we went out, I’d end up getting drunk. I was too pissed off at my mother not to. It was always like this. Every time I saw her, I ended up going out and drowning my sorrows in beer. Way too much beer.

Me: Nah. I’m gonna head to bed.

Jack: Pussy.

I laughed as I got up and set my phone on the table next to my empty beer bottle. I walked into my bedroom, stripped out of my clothes and crawled into bed.

Another night all alone. I thought.

I closed my eyes and all I could see were green eyes.

Maddie…

“COME ON, MADDIE. Stop being such a drama queen.” Zoey said as we walked through the airport.