Homecoming

01

I was having the greatest time.

The wind, smelling like the beginning of a sweet crisp autumn, whooshed through the open windows, and contested the wailing from the radio blaring classic rock. I had my happy mask on, and it contorted dramatically as I bellowed at the top of my lungs inhaling mouthfuls of that autumn air. Once in a while I would paused and looked in the rearview mirror yelling beseeching words to the backseat in an attempt to have Camus join in, but no such luck. He just laid there, sparing me an indignant look here and there. I knew he didn't quite appreciate the loud the music, and the novelty of having his head out the window with his tongue flopping about had been lost after a few hours. He was probably hungry too.

Forced to remove my happy mask, I gave a loud sigh in defeat. I turned the radio down, and put up all the windows as a peace offering. He'd been such a good sport throughout this ordeal that it was the least I could do. We'd been on the road for nearly eighteen hours after all.

"Sorry bud. We're almost there, okay?" I reached back and patted his head.

Just as we neared the level bridge that marked the separations of the county line, the setting sun illuminated clusters of trees exhibiting early signs of autumn foliage. I had been away for only three years, but witnessing this familiar scene made it seemed like decades. I took my sunglasses off to admire the red and golden trees unfiltered, but I saw battered flesh of green and purple in the rearview mirror instead.

I suppose I could consider it as a trophy. A battle scar. Or more truthfully, a temporary physical effect, but of course with permanent psychological damage, of an unpleasant experimentation in domestic bliss. I could've left when the first signs appeared, but I stayed and endured. Inasmuch, I'd come to terms that I needed to shoulder some blame regardless being the victim. That I'd consciously put myself in the line of fire for a cause. A good, worthy cause. To be together. To make it work. To see the happy ending because we were so, so in love. And that it was the purest of true love. Not because I was blinded with shallow infatuation. Or manipulated with empty promises of change.

No.

I knew what I was doing. I'd taken full responsibility for my part in the experimentation. I couldn't live with myself otherwise.

I kept my sunglasses off for the duration of the trip until Camus started pacing back and forth when he noticed the car's significant decrease in speed. Not long after, we were pulling into my parents' long gravel driveway. Dad told me once that privacy was an important selling factor when they decided to start a family and bought this property, but that reasoning never stopped my bellyaching about the ridiculous rushing I had to endure every morning just to catch the school bus.

As the house begun to emerge behind the trees, I was hit with nostalgia. It hadn't changed much; it had the same white color with dark grey trimmings and roof. The same abundant display of a well-loved garden that took my place when I got too old for my mom's coddling. The same tire swing just off to the right side of the house in a perfect blind spot from the kitchen windows. I had my first kiss there. The red front door though, that was new.

I saw my mom, donned in a bright yellow hat, pop up among the bushes. She was at my side before I could even get out of the car. "Verne? What are you doing here?" Her brows furrowed in confusion before breaking in a smile. "Not that I'm not glad to see you, of course. Where's Tony?" She craned her neck past my shoulder to get a good look of the car.

"Hey mom." I ignored the latter question and pulled her into a quick hug before letting Camus out of the car who went to explore his new surroundings. "Stay close, Camus!"

"And who's that little guy?"

"Your grandson."

Her laughter echoed in our densely secluded yard. "He's a little too furry, don't you think?" Now it was her turn to pull me down into a bone crushing hug. "You're so skinny! Let me take a look at you." She plucked my sunglasses and stepped back, but her smile instantly became a frown.

"Oh, honey. What happened?"

"Can we talk about it later? I'm little tired." I looked down hoping she wouldn't pursue the issue.

"Come on." She grabbed my bag and led me inside with Camus running right past us.

She set my bag by the stairs and motioned for me to follow her in the kitchen. I flopped down on a stool and looked around. Nothing has changed much inside either, only a little less cluttered. I watched my mother's back while she went about making some tea. It felt like one of those evenings when I would watch her make dinner while I did my homework. And then dad would come home from work and ask us how his favorite family was doing, as if he had another family for comparison, and then he would give each of us a kiss on the forehead.

"Where's dad?"

"Golfing. That's all he does nowadays, but I can't complain. I like it when he's not moping around at home."

"What about you?" I stood up and grabbed a couple of mugs from the cabinet.

"Oh, I still substitute at the school here and there." She frowned at the mugs in my hand and put them back. She went to the other cabinet and took out some fancy tea cups enameled with yellow roses instead. Now it was my turned to frown. I gave her a look asking if she was serious, but she just shrugged her shoulders.

She sat on the stool next to mine and poured tea for the both us. "You still put milk in your tea?"

"Yeah, I'll get it." I hopped towards the fridge, and examined its contents looking for something to munch on with the tea. My eyes glazed over almost empty jar of peach jam and I smirked. "Is this jam from Addie's?"

"Yes, and that's the last one. Just be ready to face your father's wrath."

I was already making my way back with bread and the peach jam before she could finish warning me. Addie's Fruit Farm was a local store that made jams and pies. Dad was absolutely in love with their jams that I was forbidden to have some without asking him first. He never got angry when I did though; he just more or less whined to mom and gave me pretend how dare you looks. I sat down with a smile, envisioning his reaction this time.

"You forgot the milk."

"Oh, right. Stealing dad's jam distracted me." I grinned and made my way back to the fridge.

"Mom, can Camus and I stay here for a while? Just for bit, you know, until I find a job and move in an apartment..." My voice trailed off, muffled by the fridge door. She didn't respond, and for fear of seeing rejection on her face, I remained hidden behind the fridge door.

"I don't know why do you even have to ask." Her stool scrape the tile floor, and I heard her shuffle up behind me. Her arm reached past me grabbing the milk, and then she shut the door.

I kept my head down, hoping she wouldn't question why I was asking to stay here when I had a nice house of my own in another state, but she didn't.

"How can I say no to my only baby?"

"Thanks mom," I whispered, relief flooding over me.

She gave my back a soothing rub before going back to her seat. "Now, get over here! Let's drink our tea before it gets cold."