Page 3 of For The Weekend
Prey and predator.
I nab him and bring him to my chest as Mazie throws her hands up, cheering. “You got him, Daddy! Good job!”
Steve nestles against my pec, and I hold him close, stroking my thumb between his ears, dipping my chin to kiss him. Because, yeah, I love the little guy.
Mazie begged me for months to get her a rabbit. The counselor at her last school had an emotional support rabbit, and Mazie spent a lot of time in her office. After hearing about that goddamn rabbit for so long, I finally gave in.
Steve’s not the easiest animal to take care of, but he’s cute as shit.
And Mazie really does love him.
Plus, he is an excellent emotional support animal. Like right now, with my anxiety bubbling right below the surface,the only things keeping me from completely melting down are my kid and this rabbit.
She tries to pet him, straining her arm up, but I don’t stop my trek back to the living room, to his bunny duplex in the corner. “Maze, if you’re gonna let him out, you need to watch him.” I bend, releasing the rabbit so he can hop back into his home. “If he ever chewed through a wire, Steve wouldn’t live with us anymore. He’d live in bunny heaven.”
When I shut and latch the door, Mazie presses her face against the cage. “I knoooooow.”
“If you know, do it.”
She huffs, and I poke her shoulder. “Watch the attitude.”
She twirls away from me, a puff of pink in her best dress for meeting her aunt and uncles. I’d started putting my plan in motion over a year ago, waiting until I had everything in order—money in the bank, my job in place, and the house—before I put Mazie and Steve in the car to make the move to a town I haven’t seen in over a decade.
But I’m back to begin a new life for Mazie and me.
And now, I have to face everything and everyone I left behind, starting with my siblings. Taryn, Griffin, and Ian agreed to meet me here at ten, and every minute closer spikes my pulse.
I’m not looking forward to seeing them—I mean… I am. They’re my brothers and sister, but I’m not looking forward to the conversations we need to have. The questions I’m sure they’ll ask. The very possible responses they might have when I give them answers.
My journey back home has been a long time coming, and I understand why they may not accept me with open arms. But as much as it might be a struggle to get back in their good graces, I am here for my daughter. She deserves a life with afamily, one that I can only give her with the very people I turned my back on.
I don’t expect their forgiveness, yet I am hoping for it.
I sweep my gaze around my home as Mazie dances to a song in her head, and it occurs to me one more time how unbelievable it is that I’m here, in the house my parents once owned. The house my mother used to pace when I cried as a baby. The house that I don’t have any visual memories of as a child, but that I remember by the scent—a mixture of Tupperware and watermelon.
I don’t know why, but the very vague yet semisweet smell of the fruit always lingered in the back of my mind. Along with plastic. Orange and hard. The feel of my fingers against the accordion lids.
The first thing I did when I received the keys was to search high and low for where the smell came from. I couldn’t pinpoint it. Nor could I find any of the vintage Tupperware I assumed my mother used to own, which is why it’s always been in my memory. Obviously, it was nowhere to be found, but I needed to search anyway.
To be sure.
I don’t have many pieces of my childhood left, and even fewer of them pleasant memories, but what I do have all start and end with Mom. And I knew that if I wanted to give Mazie the life she deserved, I had to come back to where my mother gave me the life I threw away.
The one I always should have had.
I don’t realize how much time has passed before the doorbell rings, and I’m stunned into place. I knew it was coming, that they were coming, but now that the moment is here, I can’t make myself move.
Fear washes over me, and I briefly wonder if they’d think I’d lost it by carrying Steve around withme.
“Daddy! They’re here!” Mazie screeches from somewhere in the house, probably her bedroom, with the big window that looks out front.
My palms turn clammy and my mouth goes dry as I shuffle toward the front door, my feet heavy, all of my practiced words evaporating from my brain the closer I step to it.
I place my hand on the knob, my heart beating out of my chest, my throat clogged.
I open the door, muscles so tense they’re vibrating, and I hold myself very still, bracing for the worst as I take in my siblings.
Ian, with his graying beard and hair, a lot older than the last time I saw him yet somehow even more imposing with his muscles and tattoos. Still the best man I’ve ever known. Griffin and Taryn are behind him, the Irish twins. I can’t see my brother’s eyes under the shadow of his ball cap, though his scowl is quite clear, while my sister is staring at me slack-jawed.
