She was already dreading leaving. Her whole reason for coming was to see her mom, but would she be able to turn around and leave again? It had almost torn her apart the last time. She’d spent her first two years in the South depressed and lonely. Would she have to endure that again this time?
When she reached the driveway, Thea kept to the tire tracks, shuffling her feet when the snow hadn’t been disturbed enough to hide her prints. She stopped twenty feet from the house and scanned the outside of her old home.
There were floodlights on both ends of the house. There wasn’t a way around them, but if no one was here, who cared about the light? It was a risk, but did she really have a choice?
She could have stayed in Alabama, but could she live without ever hearing the voice of the woman who loved her so much?
No, she couldn’t.
Thea would risk everything for her mom, and the woman needed to know. She slowed her pace and walked up to the house, ignoring the weight that settled on her shoulders the nearer she got to the door.
The house had been falling apart a decade ago, and time had worked its awful magic on the place. The gutters on one side of the door hung from the roof to the ground, overburdened by the weight of leaves and snow, a rusty truck sat up on cinder blocks in the side yard, and a metal barrel riddled with holes sat beside the door. When Thea got closer, she peeked inside. It was half filled with cigarette butts.
She stepped up onto the first of two cement steps and shook her hands out. She’d forgotten to bring gloves–another rookie mistake. One thing she’d loved about the South was the mild winters. She didn’t need to be able to feel her face to meet her mom after all this time, but it would be nice.
Thea knocked on the door and let her hand fall. She pushed a few inches of snow off the sides of the steps. Back when Thea had lived here, the front door had been a forgotten part of the house. Her footprints near the back or side doors would have been noticed, but not at the front of the house. The front was useless. Too formal for use by the family, and too dangerous for door-to-door salesmen. The “No Trespassing” signs were the first line of defense, followed by “Enter at Your Own Risk” signs.
Laws were mere suggestions to the Howard family and rarely followed. They lived in an imaginary world above the law of the land. The Howards made their own laws based on blood and a warped sense of loyalty.
Funny, Thea had once thought the Howards provided her protection. She’d given up that perk when she left town. They’d disowned her when she passed over the Wyoming state line. Emerson had warned her about that little fact when she called with the news earlier this month.
“It’s your mom. She’s not gonna make it through this one.”
Emerson’s warning had been simple and clear. If Thea wanted to see her mom again, she needed to act now.
Thea brushed the back of her cold hand over one eye, then the other. She’d cried over her mom on and off for years. It seemed the well never ran dry.
Her mom had been her rock–the one person in her life who loved her and would do anything for her.
A stray memory jolted through the sadness. There’d been a time when she’d thought there was one other person who loved her. Thoughts of the whirlwind summer with Brett Patton carried more pain than happiness.
Stop it. He didn’t love you. He–
The thought came to a halt as someone shuffled behind the door.
“Who is it?” The soft voice shook with weakness and fear.
Thea pressed her palms against the door, desperate to be closer to the woman on the other side. “It’s me. Thea.”
“Thea?” Her mom’s voice held more strength now, along with a higher pitch, and the lock clicked. Seconds later, the old wooden door creaked open a sliver. Her mother’s soft-blue eye was framed in the small space.
“It’s me,” Thea said softly. The sight of her mom and the sound of the sweet voice that had once soothed her to sleep now wrapped around her throat like a noose, choking her with a mixture of joy and fear.
Her mom threw the door wide and opened her arms. Thea moved to the top step and fell into the embrace. Her mom’s once strong frame was small and thin, but nothing could compare to this feeling. Holding her mom meant more than anything in this moment.
“Baby, what are you doing here?” her mom seethed in Thea’s ear. “It’s not safe. You have to go.”
“I know, but I had to come. Emerson said–”
Her mom tugged Thea inside and looked both ways before closing the door. “Emerson shouldn’t have told you. You shouldn’t have come.”
The sobs broke from Thea unannounced, and her mom gathered her back into the embrace. Her whole body shook as she buried her face in the crook of her mom’s neck. “I had to. I missed you so much. I–”
“I missed you too, baby, but you know…” Her mother pulled away and let her gaze roam over Thea’s face. “You’ve changed so much.”
“Not really.” Thea sniffed and wiped her eyes.
She took her own chance to study her mom. Sharon Howard’s hair was a lighter shade of brown almost overtaken by gray. The lines around her mouth had deepened slightly, but her eyes had changed the most. They’d lost all traces of youthfulness.