This Time Tomorrow

Chapter Two

Present

I had to catch the redeye because no one was able to cover my shift at the bar. By the time my flight lands in Rhode Island, it's near 4 in the morning. After listening to the voicemail my Mother left me, I never called her back, so she's not exactly expecting me. Besides, it's four in the goddamned morning, I can't just call her up casually after ten years of radio silence and ask her to pick me up.

Thank the lucky stars for Uber. When my Uber stops outside of my Mother's house, I let myself out of the car and yank my suitcase out behind me. The house hasn't changed, not in the slightest, still the same ugly yellow. It causes goosebumps to rise along my neck. I trudge up the driveway, baggage in tow, and after finding her spare key tucked inside the outlet box beside the front door, I let myself in.

The only light inside of the house is the dim glare of the lamp above the stove. She's always kept that on at nighttime. Well, always after my Dad died fourteen years ago. Leaving my bag by the door, I don't bother turning any lights on as I quietly navigate through the familiar house. Not that I have to go far. Kicking off my shoes, I ease myself down onto the longest couch in my Mother's living room. The blanket draped along the back of the couch is thin but it'll suffice. And as I pull it over top of me, I get a whiff of the nostalgic smells it holds.

After that I make an effort to breathe through my mouth, careful not to smell anything, and force myself to sleep.

**

It's quiet in the house when I wake up, but a comforting aroma tugs me out of my lousy slumber. I jump upright when I notice the figure sitting adjacent from me on the opposite couch.

"Sorry to startle you." Fran murmurs. She gestures to the cup of coffee setting on the end table beside me. It's black, just how I like it. Taking the warm mug into both hands, I take a long sip and then meet her gaze.

She speaks first. "You came."

I swallow down another sip. "Yes."

"It's been so long... I didn't know if you would."

Her words sting, but she's not wrong. As soon as shit hit the fan, I'd fled from the town and didn't spare a glance back, not giving a second thought as to who I was leaving. That's what happens when you're screwed up. You run from problems, you run from solutions.

"Roland meant a lot to me, you know that." It was the best answer I could give her. Yet, I still saw her flinch at the words. Immediately I saw how she would perceive them. As if she didn't mean a lot to me. Not enough to come back for, at least.

We stared at each other for a moment and I really took the time to take her in. Her hair was long, past her shoulders, but I noticed that she had the occasional grey weaved throughout her dark hair. She used to dye her hair to cover them up, I guess she didn't care anymore. The wrinkles were mere traces and only revealed themselves when she made certain facial expressions. Although she looks tired, she looks... well. I didn't expect that to be such a relief to me.

Her eyes scan over me the same way mine did her, and I know what she's seeing. Dark circles beneath my eyes from staying awake the entire redeye flight. My long, dark locks are ratty and tangled being that I haven't brushed my hair in days. But aside from that, she must be stunned. As much as I used to look like her, it appears I've grown out of that. There's so much of my Father's handsome qualities weaved within my appearance these days. All that's left of her, in me, is my eyes.

"I'm leaving to Mickee's house in an hour, I know she'd like to see you."

Mickee is Roland's wife. Now widow. She's also my mother's best friend. I've known her my whole life, and I'd like to see her too. My heart swells knowing she'll be in bad shape when I finally get to see her again after all of these years.

I swallow down the lump in my throat and send her one swift nod. That's all I can manage.