Heart and Home

by Jennifer Melzer

  “Yeah, and I’ll have to take Mom, but I can tell you right now that I won’t sleep a wink tonight.”

  “Me either,” I promised him.

  Just the thought of it being our last night together made me feel sick inside. It made no sense how I managed to let myself get in so deep in so little time, but the pit I’d dug for myself seemed bottomless and there was no turning back. My emotions churned like a ball of nails in my gut.

  “Why don’t we take my mom and your dad out for lunch after church tomorrow,” he suggested.

  “Dad would like that,” I nodded. “So would I.”

  The lights were still on inside the house when we pulled up to the curb and the clock on the dashboard said that it was only ten-thirty. “Are you sure you don’t want to come back to my place and stay?” He asked. “I’ll bring you home early.”

  “I hope you believe me when I say that I want to, Troy,” I laid my hand on top of his and squeezed his fingers. “In fact, I don’t know how I ever slept in this world without you, but I shouldn’t. I have a lot of things to take care of before I leave tomorrow afternoon. It’s better if I get them done now.”

  “I understand,” he nodded.

  The lights inside the house started to go out one by one just before the front porch light came on. For a second I thought I saw Dad peering through the curtains at us, and I shook my head. “You know he’s in there taking notes so he has something to talk about at work on Monday.”

  Troy chuckled, “Well, let’s give ‘em something to talk about then.”

  I unbuckled my seatbelt and leaned across the front seat to meet his waiting kiss. It started there, and I am sure my father was long gone to bed by the time it finished. My knees were weak with want and lament when I finally started up the long walk toward the front porch. Keys shaking in my hand, I turned at the door and saw him watching after me. He wouldn’t leave until I was inside which made me never want to go in. I finally managed to slide the key into the lock and walked into the warmth of home. On the other side of the door, I watched out the window until Troy’s truck disappeared, and then I went upstairs to my bedroom and flopped down onto my bed with the heavy weight of defeat pressing down on me.

  What was I thinking, letting myself get involved with him? I spent the better part of my life fighting to get out of that town only to feel myself being lured back in like a trout by a mealworm. It might have been different had it come with less complications—maybe with a guy who wasn’t worth coming back for, but for the first time I was starting to realize how lonely my world had become. Becky was married, had a family already. Even Amber Williams was married with children. None of my friends in the city wanted families, and the ones who already had them often lost them to the business before too long.

  I laid in the dark and stared at the ceiling for so long that it felt as if the night would never end. I actually found myself wishing that my mother would come and haunt me, because at least then she would be there to guide and comfort me during one of the most difficult times I had ever known. I punched my pillow and turned onto my side, but it seemed like only minutes later that the alarm sounded.

  I threw the blankets aside with a frustrated huff and marched into the bathroom. Ducking under the shower, I managed to stand beneath the hot stream through three full tanks of water and then finished off half a pot of coffee before we left for church.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I spotted Troy’s truck in the church parking lot and felt some of the heaviness lift away from my tired soul. There was a feeling of nostalgia as we followed the stream of churchgoers in through the social-hall entrance and then sauntered into the chapel. Troy and his mother were seated on the left side about halfway back and as soon as he spotted us, he waved us over to sit with them.

  I slid into the pew beside him and he closed the space between us whispering, “You look beautiful.”

  “I don’t know how I managed that,” I said. “I didn’t sleep a wink last night.”

  “Hello, Janice,” his mother leaned out to smile thoughtfully at me, “Hank.” I noted her walker in the aisle and wondered again about her condition. I’d rarely seen her without the wheelchair in the two weeks I’d been in town.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Kepner.”

  “Please, call me Lottie, dear.”

  Dad leaned out to greet her with a wave.

  “I baked you some brownies to take home with you, Janice,” she announced. “Troy did you put them in your truck this morning before we left?”

  “Yes, ma’am, right on top of the crock of soup and next to the loaf of banana bread,” he rolled his eyes toward me. “She says it’s just brownies, but she’s really sending you home with a week’s worth of groceries.”

  “Don’t exaggerate, Troy,” she scolded. “It’s just a few things from home. I bet it’s impossible to find a good home cooked meal in that city.”

  “Thank you, Lottie.” I ignored Troy’s playful wink and nudge which obviously referred back to our conversation about her trying to fatten me up. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “It was my pleasure, dear,” she said.

  Just as I was sinking into the comfort of their company and waiting for Pastor Crane to step up the pulpit and start the service, I felt the eyes on us, on Troy and me especially, and a disturbed tingle traced the length of my spine. The first pair of eyes I met belonged to Amber Williams, cold and deliberate in her disbelief that the rumors she heard about us were in fact true. There were others, too, some I noticed making eye contact with me before leaning into their companion to whisper behind their hand.

  “I swear, it’s like living in a Motown song about grapevines,” I muttered. “And they wonder why people like me never want to come back here.”

  “Hmm?” Troy leaned in and grinned. “Would it make you feel any better if I told you all the dirty secrets you’ve missed out on over the years?”

  I judged his grin to mean there was far more than I could even imagine and said, “Maybe.”

  “Well, for starters, Mr. McNaulty’s been wearing a toupee since 1988,” he murmured, “and your old friend Amber, well, let’s just say there’s a lot of speculation about whether or not all three of those kids belong to her husband.” He must have sensed that particular tidbit would assuage me.

  Wide-eyed, I moved to the side to look at him in disbelief, and then toward Amber, who realizing we’d been talking about her huffed forward in her seat. “That does make me feel better, even if that’s just wrong, wrong, wrong.”

  Sitting beside Troy during church made focusing on the actual sermon impossible. When he wasn’t writing little notes and drawing pictures on the back of the “Tell a Friend” cards, he was whispering town secrets to me, much to his mother’s dismay. It took everything in him to keep from crying out when she elbowed him in the ribcage and I vaguely remembered the trouble he’d often caused at church functions when we were kids.

  As we were walking out into the parking lot after service, I couldn’t help but stifle my laughter when Lottie started to lecture him about there most certainly being a hell, and one day he was going to find himself in it if he didn’t straighten up and show the Lord some respect.

  The Sunday crowd at Katy’s Diner was packed wall to wall with the church folks for brunch. Katy’s sister, Hannah, showed us to a booth near the back, and the four of us tucked into it. The crowd was rowdy, but in a positive way, the closeness of friends and family gathering together to enjoy a meal made me feel grateful that I was with Dad, Troy and Lottie. I wished my mom was there too. In fact, I could almost hear her playfully ganging up on Troy with Lottie about misbehaving in church.

  “Well now this is real nice, isn’t it?” Dad noted.

  “It is nice,” Lottie agreed. “We don’t go out much after church, do we, Troy?”

  “No, ma’am, we don’t.”

  “We should do this more often,” she looked at me when she said this. “The next time you come home for the weekend.”
There seemed to be a hint of curiosity in her tone, as though she were asking if I had any idea when that might be, and not just for her own sake, but for Troy’s as well.

  “Absolutely,” I looked across the table into Troy’s eyes, the power they had over me even there in a crowd of people felt so strong. I couldn’t even imagine that he knew just how I felt, and maybe that was for the better. “With the holidays coming up, I’m sure I’ll be spending quite a bit of time here.” Though I still didn’t know how I was going to juggle that with my work schedule.

  “I hope so,” Troy’s voice was soft, as though those words were meant for me alone.

  “Hi Troy, Mrs. Kepner,” I looked up to find Amber just inches from the table with a toddler perched on her hip. “I was so surprised to see you at church this morning, Janice. I didn’t realize you were even still in town. I figured you’d be on the freeway back to the city last week.”

  There was a sour taste ebbing at the back of my throat as I forced a smile, “I had a few loose ends to tie up with my mom, so I decided to stick around and spend some time with Becky and Troy.”

  “How sweet,” her smile stretched to the limit, I wondered if her face hurt. “I so hoped you’d call if you were still in town. I was looking forward to playing catch up with you.”

  “Maybe another time,” I found myself nodding for no reason.

  “Good! I’m gonna hold you to that.”

  “Great,” I hoped the sarcasm wasn’t too evident in my tone.

  As she sashayed away from the table, I was surprised to hear Lottie cluck her tongue against the roof of her mouth before announcing, “That girl has been nothing but trouble since she was old enough to walk.”

  “Do I need to save you a seat in Hell, Mom?” Troy teased, evoking another sharp nudge in the ribs from her elbow.

  Lunch went smoothly, and as we parted ways with Troy and Lottie, I promised Troy I’d meet him at his apartment to say goodbye as soon as I finished up at Becky’s. I thought about leaving nonstop the night before, but with only hours left before I had to drive back to the city and the life that felt altogether good enough until I’d set foot back in Sonesville, it just didn’t seem real. It didn’t really feel like I was going to kiss Troy goodbye and not be able to open my door the next afternoon just in time for lunch with him.

  After the bizarre incident on Friday with my suitcase and clothing, I hadn’t bothered to repack, so as soon as Dad and I got home I hiked upstairs and started to repack my suitcase. It took me almost half an hour to get everything resituated perfectly, and then I scanned the room to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything. Bed made, all of my personal belongings packed, I started for the door but the knob wouldn’t turn in my hand. I pulled on it thinking maybe it was stuck, but neither the knob nor door would budge. A moment of panic seized me as an almost claustrophobic fear surged through me.

  “Come on,” I wiggled the knob again, but it was stuck fast. “What the hell?” I pushed against the wood, but it barely even buckled against my weight. “Mother, if this is you, it isn’t funny.” I looked around the room behind me. “You can’t lock me in my bedroom like I’m twelve years old.” Frustrated, I leaned into the door and tilted my head back. “Is this your way of keeping me here?” Suddenly all of the signs fell into place. The writing on the mirror: STAY… her appearance at the top of the stairs the night Troy first asked me out, the mysterious unpacking of my suitcase.

  She was obviously trying to convince me not to return to the city, but why? Was something going to happen to my dad that I’d need to be there for, or was it her way of reaching out to answer my need for comfort and guidance?

  “If you’re not going to talk to me, open the door.” I said firmly. “I am going back to Pittsburgh today and there is nothing you can do to stop me.” I waited for a second and then added with a defiant flare, “I’ll climb out the window.”

  The lock on the door released and clicked open, drawing forward just enough on its own to assure me that there was definitely something strange going on.

  “Thank you,” I nodded at the door, and passed through it, leaving it open behind me.

  I dragged my bag down the stairs. Dad sat at the kitchen table leafing through the Sunday paper, his glasses perched on the end of his nose. He barely looked up when he asked, “What the hell was all the racket up there?”

  “Oh, nothing.” No sense telling him the truth if he wasn’t going to believe me. “My suitcase was a little awkward that’s all.”

  “Well here,” he pushed away from the table. “Why didn’t you say something, you ninny?” He took the bag away from me and carried it effortlessly through the house and out the front door.

  I grabbed my purse and keys and followed, stopping at the door to turn back to the house behind me. I drew in a deep breath and held it for a minute. The last time I left the house was almost eight years earlier, and she’d been there fussing over every detail. It felt strange to not have her there seeing me off. I released the breath and clutched my purse in my hand.

  “I’ll be back for holidays,” I told her. “Take care of Dad, okay.”

  I didn’t know whether she could hear me or not, but I didn’t care. Before I could start to get emotional, I stepped outside and walked down to my car. Dad waited at the trunk to load my bag in. I unlocked it for him and then walked around to toss my purse into the passenger seat.

  “So you’ll be coming home on weekends, I suppose.” He closed the trunk and sauntered toward me. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and tried to avoid eye contact. He’d never been very good at goodbyes

  “I don’t really know, Dad,” I admitted, crossing my arms against the cold. “I will do what I can to come back as often as possible. I will definitely be home for Thanksgiving, but before that, it’s hard to say.”

  “Well, your room is always here, whenever you need it.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  Leaning in, he gave me an awkward squeeze, and stepped back just as quickly. “Behave and stay safe.”

  “Call me if you need anything. I mean it.” I wagged a finger at him. “I love you, Dad.”

  “Love you.”

  I watched him in the rearview mirror standing on the sidewalk while I drove away. As I made the right turn into the side street that led to Main Street, I noticed he lingered there with his hands in his pockets and a lost look about him. A part of me worried that maybe he wouldn’t really be okay in that big old house all alone. He hadn’t been apart from my mom for more than a couple of days in thirty years, and though I hadn’t noticed any strange depression or worrisome behavior, I couldn’t help feeling like I was going to wind up regretting my choice to leave him alone.

  A million bad scenarios plagued my thoughts all the way to Becky’s, and I finally made a mental note to ask both her and Troy to keep an eye on my dad while I was away. Becky was home alone when I arrived, Marty having taken the boys to visit with his mom in South Williamsport.

  She seemed depressed when she answered the door, and I was surprised she had foregone her contacts to wear those red-framed, 1990’s talk-show hostess glasses.

  “Come on in,” she stepped aside and ushered me in. “Do you have time for coffee?”

  “With as poorly as I slept last night, coffee is probably a good idea.”

  I followed her into the kitchen and sat down at the table. She poured us both a cup and then took a seat across from me. We were silent for a few minutes, almost as if we’d returned to that uncomfortable place we’d been in before last Monday.

  “Are you excited to be going back?” She finally asked, holding her mug up close to her face and breathing in the steam.

  “I don’t know,” I looked away. “This last week has made things confusing.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  “It was like living an entire lifetime in a few days,” I realized, looking away. “And the fact that Troy and I spent Friday night together…” I lingered on that word so she might pick up my meaning before mo
ving on, “Well, let’s just say that adds a whole new layer of confusion to everything.”

  “Aw, hun,” she reached across the table and laid her hand over mine.

  “And then there’s you,” I cleared my throat of the ache that always signaled that I could very well cry if things didn’t tone down a notch. “I haven’t had a friend who’s been as good to me as you have in a long time, and I’m really gonna miss being able to just come and see you.”

  “Stop it,” she waved her hand in front of her face. “You’re making me cry.” Within seconds we were both laughing, which was the perfect way to hide that we were really crying.

  “I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” I finally admitted, dabbing the tears away from my face. “I stopped fighting with myself and just let it go, but I am falling too hard and too fast.”

  “As much as I hate to see you go, maybe going home right now is the best way to put all of that into perspective, or at least slow it down just a bit.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  “So, you know I’m going to have to ask now that you brought it up,” she started. “Was he perfect in bed?”

  “This does not leave this room,” I warned with a stern glare, already knowing that such a warning wasn’t really needed with her.

  “Of course not! I’ll be sure to bring Marty in here to tell him.”

  I reached across the table to swat at her. “When I say everything about him is amazing,” I paused for dramatic effect. “Well, everything about him really is amazing.”

  A romantic sigh escaped her, “I knew it. What a lucky girl.”

  “Now, that I won’t deny.”

  As we finished our coffee, it was with reluctance and playful threats that we finally said goodbye.

  “You better call me and email me like every day!” I said, as we stood in the car door hugging goodbye.

  “And you better come home to visit, or I’ll drive out there and drag you home.”

  “Keep an eye on things around here for me,” I stepped back and slipped into the driver’s seat. “Let me know if my dad starts acting weird.”