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11: Home

Evan

Sunday

Evan's heart beat an erratic, anxious rhythm as he stepped into his parent's den, quietly closed the door, and took up a spot by the back-facing window. The backyard sat to the west of the house and he felt the warm afternoon sunshine as it drifted through the glass and gently kissed his skin.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, and willed his overactive nerves to settle.

It didn't work.

Evan focused on the birds, their carefree song, leaping from the tree to tree, and weaving a beautiful late day symphony. A soft breeze caught his attention and, even from the wrong side of the glass, he could hear the swaying of the branches and the nearby chitter of a squirrel.

It was nice to be home and he ached for the relaxation it promised.

He took another deep breath, praying once more for some calm, and stretched out his senses. Hannah was casually sitting in one of the outdoor chairs on the patio, a mug of hot coffee in her hand, soaking up the peaceful surroundings. She felt happy and content and he could sense those emotions wrapping and pulsing around her like a bubble. He itched to be out there with her, sharing in the tranquility he always rediscovered every time he came home.

Soon.

He needed a few moments here, by himself. He needed to think.

His mom's words whispered once again in his ear.

Do you trust her?

Yes.

Inexplicably.

The answer came with unwavering conviction, but still he held tight to his secret.

His heart thudded loudly in his chest and that familiar twist of guilt and hollow sadness sat heavily in his gut. They met 8 years ago already and even from that very first meeting, they had always been close. They shared everything, always had, and she had always been there for him, a solid constant in his life. She grounded him, comforted him.

She was home.

He pressed him brows together as he rolled that word around on his tongue. But it felt right.

But now, something was ... off. He didn't know why, but he sensed a distance growing between them.

Something had happened last night at the bar. He still felt it, like a new connection, but a new connection that somehow seemed old. Whatever occurred, something was now different and he felt the unease right down to his core.

The door behind him opened and his mom slipped into the room. She quietly approached, wrapped an arm around his side, and settled into his larger frame. He echoed her movement and draped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into him, her nearness calming and reassuring.

"It's so nice to have you home for a bit. I know it's been hard for you," his mom said, her tone soft and understanding as only a mother could be.

"It's really nice to be home." He said.

The only place he could be himself.

Evan wanted to say more, but he wasn't sure where to start. There was always so much he wanted to say to this incredible lady, but words never seemed adequate. He gave her a squeeze and felt her happiness soar.

"Did you think about what I said?" his mom asked. She didn't offer anything else, but she didn't need to.

"Yes, I'm just..."

She shifted, gathered his hands in hers, and turned him to face her. Her soothing presence tasted like rich cinnamon and cloves and Evan closed his eyes and basked in that loving, protective blanket. Memories of the months and even years after his first shift came swimming forward and he could feel his heart swell and his eyes begin to sting. He owed everything to both of his parents.