Page 24 of Return To You

“Okay.” There’s no point arguing, or she’ll come here. It wasn’t good old days, but when I came back from Texas, little things like watching TV with Mom did help pull me out of the hole.

“Bring Damian,” she declares, knowing my cat is also a sucker for sweet, sappy movies.

After another fight with my closet door, I put on some comfy clothes and haul my ass to my parents’.

Mom sets the lasagna on the table. “You sure took your sweet time. It’s almost burned,” she says.

“Why didn’t you turn the oven off?” Dad says in my defense.

“My closet door keeps getting stuck,” I semi-lie. “I don’t know what’s wrong with it.”

“I could try and take a look,” Dad says half-heartedly. He’s exhausted just thinking about it. “I’d tell you to ask your brother, but—”

“Yeah, no.” Colton is a magician with cars. Old houses? Not his thing. He doesn’t see the point in maintaining the delicate details of centuries-old homes. He’d just as quickly knock down my intricately carved door and its period hinges and replace it with a faux barn door on a railing.

“Why don’t you call these lovely new people—Thalia and Lucas?”

“Maybe.”

After dinner, Mom insists on cleaning up on her own, so I take Dad to the living room and massage his shoulders, hands, and feet.

“How’s baby Skye?” Dad asks.

“Not a baby anymore,” I answer, and somehow that thought makes me sad. Skye may not have been the reason I came back to Emerald Creek, but when my cousin, Chris, got full custody of her when she was a newborn, I jumped in to help.

She gave me a purpose. A reason to get out of bed in the morning. Now I’m out of that funk, thank god, but I’m finding any little change affects me. “She loves Alex.”

Dad pats my hand. “You miss taking care of her. Taking her to school, babysitting…”

“It’s summer,” I counter, not wanting to talk about that. But I’m not getting rid of her car seat, and I haven’t had the heart to clean up the scrunchies or even the candy wrappers she left there last time. It seems too final. “And Chris and Alex still need me for babysitting.”

“Chris did good,” Dad says. “I hope you find that too, some day.”

I don’t want to answer that. There’s nothing to say, nothing we could agree on.

I’m perfectly content alone, with Damian, and Skye, every now and then. What else could I possibly want?

“Gracie bear, you’re tired. Time to go watch TV with Mom.”

“I’m not tired.”

“Your hands are shaking.”

He can feel that? I look into his eyes tenderly. He doesn’t look good today. “Right back atcha, Dad. You need some rest.”

He nods. “I’ll be watching the game. You and Mom need your girl time.” He leans back in his recliner, remote control on his lap, and narrows his eyes on the screen, the glare flickering in bluish hues over his ashen face.

Mom is done in the kitchen, so we settle on their bed upstairs, a bowl of maple popcorn between us, Damian purring at our feet, the window open to the outside breeze from the lake.

With a deep sigh, I proceed to tell her about the building possibly being sold and A Touch Of Grace needing to move. That should keep her off my case about Ethan. Surely she’ll see I have something important to actually worry about.

“You won’t tell Dad about the lease, right?” I whisper as she selects the Hallmark Channel.

“Course not.” We have this tacit agreement to not worry Dad. “What are you going to do?” She pauses the movie.

“I don’t know yet. The landlord hasn’t even notified me yet.”

“Isn’t that weird?”

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