Page 42 of Since the Day We Kissed

“You’ll grow into it someday, kiddo,” his dad had said, ruffling Ethan’s hair.

Ethan blinked against the sudden sting in his eyes and turned toward a shoebox tucked in the closet’s corner. Inside, he found postcards and small mementos from the patchwork of places they’d called home over the years. Hero settled beside him, resting his head on Ethan’s knee as he sifted through fragments of their nomadic past.

A faded postcard of a magnolia blossom brought back memories of the sweltering Mississippi heat. Ethan remembered the tiny apartment they’d shared, his dad working long hours at a shipyard while Ethan adapted to yet another new school.

Next, he picked up a small carved wooden bison. North Dakota—where winter seemed to last forever, and the wind never stopped howling. His dad had found work on an oil rig, and often came home exhausted but somehow always made time to help Ethan with his homework.

Then a keychain shaped like the Liberty Bell transported Ethan to their longest stretch in one place—Pennsylvania. His dad had initially thrived on the city’s energy, securing a steady job in Philadelphia. But as years passed, the pressures of city life took their toll. The overtime hours grew longer, and Ethan watched his dad’s drinking evolve from a few beers after work to a nightly ritual, with a growing collection of bottles in the recycling bin, carefully hidden under newspapers.

Ethan learned to recognize the slight slur in his dad’s speech, the stumbling gait as he came home later and later. The smell of whiskey became a constant presence, clinging to his old man’s clothes and breath. Memories of those years were mixed with bright spots—trips to Independence Hall, Phillies games—and darker moments of arguments and broken promises.

Finally, his fingers closed around a small ceramic lighthouse, a souvenir from their first day in Hadley Cove. Ethan remembered the day clearly—His dad, sober and grinning, had picked it up at a quaint shop on the boardwalk.

“This is our second chance, son,” he’d said, his eyes clear for the first time in years. “We’re going to make a real home here.”

His dad had secured a job at a local factory, thanks to an old Marine buddy. For a while, it seemed like things were looking up. The small town’s peaceful atmosphere appeared to have a positive effect, and Ethan dared to hope that this time things would be different.

But as weeks turned into months, familiar patterns emerged. It started with “just one beer” after a long shift, then a few more. Soon, Ethan was finding hidden bottles around the house again. The ceramic lighthouse, once proudly displayed on the mantel, had been knocked over during one of his dad’s stumbling late-night returns. Now, it sat in this closet as a chipped reminder of what could have been but never was.

Ethan sighed, gently setting down the lighthouse. Near it, he pushed aside a stack of old flannel shirts before his hand struck something solid. He cleared away more debris, revealing a small safe tucked into the corner. His heart raced.

Could this be it?

Pulling the safe out, his hands shook slightly as he examined it. It was an old model, probably as old as he was, with a keyhole on the front. He ran his fingers over the cool metal, searching for any hidden compartments where his dad may have stashed the key, but found nothing.

Ethan glanced around the closet, hoping to spot a key hanging on a nail or tucked into a pocket, but came up empty. He even checked the pockets of the Marine dress blues, thinking his dad might have hidden it there, but no luck.

Glancing at his phone and registering the late hour, he carefully placed the safe on his dad’s old dresser with a sigh.

I’ll get a locksmith tomorrow.

15

Kara

Monday

AsKarawaitedforEthan’s arrival, she threw herself into the morning chores. She fed the dogs, filled their water bowls, let them out into the yard for their bathroom breaks, and performed basic health checks on each animal ... By the time she finished, nearly three hours had passed.

Where could he be?

Kara paced the worn linoleum, her eyes flicking to the clock every few seconds. The makeup she’d applied earlier—something she rarely bothered with—now felt like a mistake. Doubts crept in, echoing the disappointments of the past.

Did I say something wrong yesterday? Maybe he’s changed his mind about coming, just like he changed his mind about calling.

She shook her head, pushing the thoughts away.

Why do I even care what he thinks?

Kara began shuffling through papers on the reception desk when the lobby door swung open and Ethan walked in.

“Kara, I’m so sorry I’m late. I—”

“You could’ve called,” Kara cut in.

A heavy silence fell between them. Kara’s cheeks flushed as she realized how sharp her words had sounded.

Kara sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. That came out wrong. I really do appreciate you being here.”

---