Page 12 of When I'm Gone

“Yeah, come on. I’m done torturing you for the day.” It is remarkably frustrating that Brady is only mildly worn out by the run, but I am happy enough to be done that I can overlook it. It has been a long day at work, and while we go to the gym afterwards on a regular basis, it’s never to run.

When we make it to the car after we shower and redress in clean clothes, I ask Brady if he wants to swing by a phone store.

“I’ll get to it. We should get home so I can get dinner going.”

His jaw is tight as he grips the steering wheel. I sympathize with him, I really do. He just isn’t ready to lose an avenue for Easton to get in contact with him, even if it wasn’t likely.

Healing came with time, I suppose.

Emerson, my brother, calls on the way to Brady’s, and I am very grateful for something to break the tension. “Hey, Em, what’s up?”

His lively voice fills my ear, bringing on an unexpected pang of homesickness. “Hey. I just left Mom and Dad’s place, so I thought I would call you. Logan said she had gotten busy with the baby so she hadn’t filled you in today.”

We’re all putting up a good front, I think. Cheery voices and optimistic outlooks are the most common Adler family coping mechanisms, present company excluded. “How’s Dad holding up?”

“He’s good. Tired of being fussed over, as I’m sure you can assume.”

Sounds about right. He worked nights and sacrificed a shit ton of sleep to be the main caretaker for me and my siblings while we were growing up so my mom could pursue her dream of running an art gallery without worrying about her kids being put on the back burner. Being the center of attention is not his thing, to put it mildly. “So, when you say good, what you mean is grumpy.”

Emerson laughs lightly. “Exactly that. He’s getting some follow-up with his regular doctor, but things are looking okay.” By the sounds of the babbling on the other end of the phone, he’s with Logan and Sage. “Mom doesn’t want you to worry, but she did say you should plan a trip home soon.”

Yeah, okay, like there’s nothing alarming about the phrase,don’t worry, but…

“I’ll make it happen. How’s Sage?” Our niece is always the best topic. My oldest sister is the only one of us to have a kid so far, and her daughter is admittedly spoiled rotten. Not that I’d change it. Sage is an angel.

“I’m hanging out with her now. Come here, monkey. Come say hi to Uncle Chase.” I wince as the phone roughly changes hands. She isn’t great with talking on the phone yet, but I’ll take anything I can get. I miss the hell out of that kid.

“Hi, Sage. Are you having fun playing with Uncle Em?”

She shrieks, full of joy and loud enough to almost deafen me. “Playin’ pwincess,” she answers.

Funny, how she can turn my whole mood around. Sage goes on for a while. Some real words and some that I can’t make out, but she’s fun to listen to. Eventually, Emersontakes his phone back, and we say our goodbyes as Brady pulls into his garage.

Seems like he could have used a baby fix too, his body language is way more relaxed than it had been ten minutes ago. Not that I’d ever tell him, but that was a lot of my motivation to make an ongoing effort with my family. He had to give up his entire family in one day, and he needed people and people is something I have in spades. I’d always had a lot of love for them, but it was childish to let our differences cause distance when they are all genuinely amazing people, just more outgoing than me.

That first summer Brady had come home to Chicago with me, they’d effortlessly made him one of the bunch. I didn’t even have to ask; they were excited to include him in the fray. He’d been dragged all over the city by my mom so she could showcase the city’s amazing art scene, Emerson and Parker had taken him to baseball games, he’d been subjected to an ungodly amount of survival TV shows with my dad, including full commentary, and Logan, ever the eldest sister, gave him a safe space to open up when he really needed perspective from someone other than me.

“I’m glad your dad is doing okay,” he says as he gets out of the car. I follow behind as we make our way inside and offer him a quiet, “Me too.”

He doesn’t talk much while he cooks, but I keep him company, parked on a barstool looking over my team’s work schedule, trying to pinpoint when I could swing a quick trip home.

“You going with me?” I ask, flicking my gaze up.

Brady shrugs as he chops various vegetables. “I could go either way. I don’t want to get in the way if you want some one-on-one time with your family, considering the circumstances.”

There is a lot of weight in his tone. I’d get it through hishead one of these days that my family is his family. “As if. Logan would string me up by my toes if I showed up without you.” He still doesn’t look convinced, so I have to throw in the trump card. “Plus, you know Sage would be wondering where you are.”

That softens the last of his hesitation. “Yeah, all right. My schedule is a bit easier than yours, so whenever you can squeeze it in, book the tickets.”

Marianne was pretty laid back about time off. As long as projects were getting done, there was a ton of flexibility which came in handy at times like this. I’d leaned into it when Sage was born too, there was no way I was missing that.

A sudden knock on the door surprises both of us, but Brady is knuckle-deep with dinner so I tell him I’ll get it. It’s probably a delivery that needs to be signed for. He’d ordered some furniture recently, so maybe it’s that.

Nothing, and I mean nothing, could have prepared me for what’s on the other side of that door when I swing it open.

Hollow blue eyes, though no less piercing than I remember. His corn silk hair is disheveled and hanging limply over his scowling expression. He’s taller now, only a few inches shorter than my six-two, but I’d recognize him anywhere.

Easton.

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