Page 19 of What I Should Have Felt

Sprinting across the lawn riddled with weeds I was supposed to have pulled fifteen years ago during the summer I left, I dropped the duffel, threw off my rucksack, and launched myself at my mawmaw.

“Oh, sweetie,” she whispered as her frail arms encircled me. Warmth filled the hole in my chest, long since turned black, as she squeezed harder. I feared I’d snap her in half as I tightened my grasp around her shoulders, but she didn’t wince within my embrace. Instead, she tucked her face against my chest.

Slender fingers slid down my back as her thinning gray hair tickled my neck. She was skinnier than when I left, and her hair no longer brushed her shoulders while curling out and up at the ends, but she smelled like home. Like every spice that graced my tongue growing up. Every crawfish and alligator she cooked up wafted from her skin as if she soaked in the only comfort I’d found over the years.

“Mawmaw,” I choked out through tears.

“Hi, my boy,” she gently said as her hand patted my back. And then the gentleness shifted as her pat turned into a slap. “How dare you take so damn long to come home.”

“Ow,” I muttered, shying away from her smack.

“Suck it up, buddy. And also, you really do stink.”

My chuckle vibrated in my chest as she stopped hitting me, and I slowly released her. “Had a busy day yesterday.”

“Getting whacked by your mother. Do you really think that bombarding her at the restaurant was the right play to get her to forgive you?” She slid away from me and threw her hands on her hips.

“I know. It was dumb, but…” My voice trailed off as I closed my eyes.

“But she’s your mama.”

I nodded and inhaled deeply. My gaze slid across the house, which could certainly use some upgrades. But it was home, and I wanted nothing more than that forgiveness and the ability to finally come home.

“My have you grown,” Mawmaw continued, and I glanced back down at her.

“Or you’ve just shrunk,” I teased.

She smiled at me and reached up, patting my cheek with a hand that held even more wrinkles. “Come on inside. And you can tell me your new plan for winning your mother over.”

Chapter 8

FORD

My mawmaw gestured to the front door as I quickly scurried back to where I’d dropped my duffel and rucksack. “So, I figured this time I’d show up with my resumé and—”

“And what qualifications does being a Navy SEAL get you when it comes to restaurant work?” she quickly inserted and grabbed the door handle.

“Well, not much, really, I guess. But I wasn’t—”

“Then you need a new plan because that won’t work.”

“Mawmaw, if you let me finish, I wasn’t going to ask to be hired, but to simply volunteer.” Shrugging the rucksack on my shoulders again, I hoisted my duffel from the ground and faced my mawmaw, who stood in the entranceway, holding the door open.

“I’m not stupid. I know y’all are drowning in debt and can’t afford to pay someone else to help at the restaurant. I also know all about this Robert O’Connor shithead.” I bounded up the porch steps two at a timeand slipped by her into the house. A smile crept onto my face. I’d been right.

Everything was exactly how it had been when I’d left it. The same worn-down burgundy carpet to my left was adorned with floral-patterned couches, where the same cushions that were hollow and sunken from often being sat on waited.

At the far side of the room, beside a massive grandfather clock, rested my mawmaw’s wooden rocker. The stain was weathered, and the vibrant blue color the seat had once been was worn to a dull gray, and several crocheted blankets still draped across the back of it.

The wall splitting the living room and kitchen area on the other side had yellowed with a few pictures sitting askew above the couch that rested against it. The curtains hanging in front of the massive front window were dusty and used to be a beautiful green color, but now they were so bleached I wasn’t even sure if they had the same floral pattern I could’ve sworn they once had.

Mawmaw shut the door and then quietly walked into the living room, settling into the rocker with a heavy groan. “Your parents kept your room just as you left it. They only went in to keep it clean, though I made sure they didn’t look under your bed, so there may be a few cobwebs left.”

I shook my head with a smile and kicked off my boots. “Believe it or not, Mawmaw, I didn’t keep any naked magazines under there.”

“Oh, I know. Just a certain box full of pictures of one single girl.”

My eyes widened, and I froze. She couldn’t know. There was no way she knew. Nobody had known. Colette and I had been way too sneaky and careful after nearly being caught by one of her cousins.

---