Year 12 (First Draft)

-Chapter 19-

  "She's here?" Andrew's eyes grow wide, his jaw slack from surprise. "I haven't seen her in years. She probably doesn't want to see me anyway."

  "Andrew," I put my hand on his shoulder, "your mother would love to see you."

  "Felisha, I never apologized to my family for leaving. I'm too prideful for that. I regret leaving them, but I'm too much of a coward to ever admit that to them. I left them, Felisha. Of my own accord, I up and left thinking I could provide myself with a better life. I thought I could provide them with a better life. I can't make up for all that time."

  "You're right," I say, hating how my voice cracks, hating the way his words have impacted me, "you won't ever get that time back, but you could make use of the time you have now. Now is the time for you to make your decision. The past is set, but the future is in your hands. You can sit here and regret what you did or didn't do, or, you can go in there and see your mom."

  "Felisha, I don't think you understand."

  I take a deep breath. "I may not understand exactly how you're feeling, but I know what it's like to leave family. I never got the chance to go back and make things right with my parents. My brother is locked up in a cell, that much we have in common. If I could go back, I would. I would go to my parents, try to bridge the gap of time we lost. I just don't want you to feel that, Andrew."

  "I don't know what to say," Andrew's gaze is locked on his feet.

  "You don't need to say anything. Please, just go inside. Your mom is waiting."

  I lead Andrew down the hall, feeling nervous for him. How will Mrs. Porter respond to seeing her son after all this time? Will she react the way I hope, or the way Andrew fears?

  We make our way into the dining room where I can hear Mrs. Porter and Anya chatting as they sit down to eat their lunch. I take a deep breath and step into the room, motioning for Andrew to stay back for a second. I want to speak with them briefly before I bring him in. I can't even begin to imagine how they will react.

  "Felisha, dear, you really should come have some lunch. We were thinking of having some grilled cheese sandwiches. They're Anya's favorite," Mrs. Porter informs me, and I realize I have no idea how to approach her with this shocking revelation that her son is in the other room. How does one go from discussing something as trivial as lunch to talking about a long lost relative? "Felisha, is everything alright?"

  "Better than alright," I say, smiling.

  "Mrs. Porter, I would love to join you for lunch, but first, I would like to introduce you to someone."

  Mrs. Porter's chattering subsides and she turns her full attention to me, waiting to see who will walk in the dining room.

  "You can come in," I say, and I hear Andrew's footsteps as he comes down the last bit of the hallway before entering the room. He walks in slowly, his head down, his steps stiff and forced. He is still hesitant to see his mom.

  "Mrs. Porter, I know this will be a lot to take in-"

  "Andrew?" Mrs. Porter's eyes grow wide, and she suddenly sits back down in her chair as though her legs can no longer support her. Andrew's head snaps up upon hearing his name, and if Mrs. Porter wasn't sure before, there'd be no mistaking her son's striking eyes, or how austere he appears, his stoney expression changing only slightly when he looks over at his mother.

  Mrs. Porter stands, and runs toward him, throwing her arms around him. Andrew stands still, not embracing her at first, but slowly he softens, wrapping his arms around her. Mrs. Porter's shock turns into tears of joy as she takes in the sight of her son. I have to wonder how she feels seeing him after this long. Would my parents have greeted me in much the same way?