“I’m so sorry, Maggie.” He patted her arm in a show of support. “If there was anything more I could do, you know I would in a heartbeat, but I—”
“No. Please,” she interjected, managing a smile through her tears. “Please don’t apologize. I should thank you for letting me know before the bank came knocking.” She sniffled, sitting up a little straighter. Squaring her shoulders, she collected herself as best as she could because now was not the time to cry, no matter how justified her tears were. “H-how long do I have?”
“Thirty days.” Mr. Wylie walked back around to his side of the desk, stacking all the documents together and placing them into a folder. “If the mortgage isn’t brought back into line by day thirty, a foreclosure notice will be issued.”
Maggie nodded. “Okay. I’ll make a few calls, talk to my solicitor.” Her brain ran through a long list of things she was going to have to urgently get on to. “How much … how much is owed to pay the mortgage out?”
She watched as he tapped something into his computer, his gaze narrowed as he scanned the illuminated screen before twisting the monitor in her direction. With interest and fees, it was an obscene amount of money with a lot of zeroes, but she nodded regardless, taking a deep breath in an attempt to contain her emotions.
***
Less than forty-eight hours later, Maggie was sitting out on the patio, overlooking the yard, a cardigan covering her shoulders. She took a sip of her wine and smiled. The night air was cool against her skin, helping to provide a clarity she hadn’t felt in a long time. She’d just made a huge decision. A life-altering decision that would change everything. But she also knew, regardless of the consequences, it was for the best. Her life, and her sons’ lives, would eventually start to unravel the longer they stayed in Boston. Tom’s choices and the selfish, unthinkable things he’d done would come back to haunt not only herself, but TJ and Jack. She had to do something to try and fix things. So, she did. It might be considered running away, but she was a mother and it was her job to do whatever she had to do to protect her boys. They might hate her. But that didn’t matter. A mother’s priority, above all else, is to protect a child at any cost.
The French doors from the house opened and Maggie knew without even glancing over her shoulder that it was Jack.
“Mom, can I talk to you?”
The break in his voice struck right to her heart. He sounded so despondent, so fragile. All she wanted was for him to talk to her. She longed to hold him. Really hold him. Her arms yearned to feel her son wrapped safe and warm and protected in the embrace only she as his mother could provide. But, instead, without giving herself away, she simply nodded once, not obliging him with even so much as a sideways glance. They hadn’t spoken more than a few words since his drunken escapade, and it’d been a living hell.
The metal legs of the patio chair scraped across the flagstone, and suddenly he was right there, sitting in front of her, and she was forced to look into his eyes, which were so sad, and so full of heartbreaking hopelessness. It was a look that tore her up inside.
Jack clamped his bottom lip between his teeth, a crease of contemplation appeared between his brows. “You were right,” he said finally, his voice nothing more than a whispered hush. “I knew what I was doing with that liquor. I did it intentionally.”
Maggie allowed herself to meet his eyes, but she said nothing as she waited for him to continue.
“I just …” He shook his head, dropping it into his hands, his fingers tearing at the lengths of his hair as he released a shuddering breath. “I thought if I could forget about everything, even if only for one night, then maybe when I finally remembered it wouldn’t … it wouldn’t hurt so much.”
She quirked a brow. “How’d that work out for ya?”
He glanced up from his hands, and when he noticed the wry smile ghosting over her lips he chuckled humorlessly. “Made everything hurt a million times more.”
She nodded.
“I just miss him so much. I miss how everything was.” A lone tear trailed down his cheek catching the glow of the garden lights, glistening almost beautifully. He made no effort to wipe it away as he continued, “I wish things could go back to how they were. But I know they never will and that’s what sucks the most. That this is it.”
Maggie nodded. “This is our life now, Jack. We need to adjust, to make a new kind of normal. Without your father.”
He buried his face in his hands and she watched on as his shoulders trembled with every silent cry he tried so hard to conceal. Seeing him so broken, so defeated, so utterly distraught, it broke her too. She hadn’t seen him so sad since the family dog, Buster, passed away. Of course, the gravity of losing a father was a lot heavier than losing a dog, but the sadness was comparable in a way. Jack had lost his first best friend, and now, seven years later, he’d lost his hero. For the second time in his fifteen years, he’d been left heartbroken. It was too much loss for a kid his age to have to deal with. It wasn’t fair.
Maggie watched her son a little longer, raking her teeth over her bottom lip as she contemplated her words. With a deep breath, she reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing in a show of support. “Jack, I want to talk to you about something.”
He sniffled, finally looking up. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand, his eyes glassy and red rimmed and rife with anguish.
She searched his face, thinking of the right words to say. She knew she needed to tell him, she just didn’t know how. Shifting in her chair, she cleared the ball of nerves from the back of her throat with a sip of wine.
“What is it?” Jack asked, his brow furrowing with a combination of confusion and concern.
“Well, I spoke with TJ today,” Maggie began, moving her gaze to the glass in her hand. With a hard blink she reminded herself, once again, that she was the authority figure in this situation. Lifting her chin a little higher, she fixed Jack with an unwavering look. “I-I think it’s best … for all of us … if we … if we move.”
He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes flitting between hers, his expression unreadable. “Move?”
She nodded. “Make a fresh start. Away from this house, this … this place.” She waved a hand in the air, indicating their surroundings.
“Move from Belmont?” He gaped at her. “Would we stay in Boston?”
Swallowing hard, she studied the fraught look of panic in his blue eyes. “I’ve found a place by the ocean. In New Hampshire. It’s only—”
“You wanna move out of the state?” His voice was pitchy and uneven as he stood to his feet so abruptly his chair toppled backward, tumbling onto the flagstone with a loud clatter.
“It’s not even two hours away, Jack. You can still come and visit Billy and all your other friends. You’ll have your driver’s license at the end of the year. We can get you your own car. You can—”
“No!” He folded his arms defiantly across his broad chest, glowering down at her. “I’m not moving.”
With a heavy sigh, Maggie glanced up at the inky night sky in the hope that it might help her to collect her thoughts. She stood to her feet and, although Jack still towered over her, she asserted herself as best as she could. “I’ve already submitted an offer on a house, and … it was accepted this afternoon.” She snapped her mouth shut, holding her breath while waiting for his reaction.
Jack’s eyes widened with incredulity.
“Your dad always wanted a place by the water for you boys, and—”
“Don’t you dare bring my father into this.” His words were icy as they cut straight through her attempt at an explanation. “This has nothing to do with him. This is you!”
She stared at him for a few beats, witnessing something in his eyes that she hadn’t been prepared to see. Pure, unadulterated hatred stared back at her. “Jack.” Her voice wavered. “If you can just hear me out, you’ll realize I—”
“Why bother, Mom?” He threw his hands up at his sides. “You’ve obviously al
ready made your decision. What say do I have?” And, with that, he turned and stormed back inside the house, the door slamming shut violently behind him.
Releasing the breath she’d been holding Maggie slumped back in her chair. Her shoulders sagged with the heavy weight of resignation. She finished the rest of her wine. Despite Jack’s reaction, this was a time for celebration. She’d made the first big financial decision of her life, and she had done it all on her own for her and her boys.
One day, Jack would understand that—moving away from this place, away from this chapter in their lives, away from what would eventually keep them from moving on—it was all for the best. It was time to start a new life where no one knew them or what they’d been through, where they could move on together and be happy. Yes, this was for the best. For all of them. Sooner or later, Jack would see that. At least, that’s what she hoped.
Chapter 8
The sun managed to break its way through the thick cover of gray cloud, shining a dull glow upon the house Maggie and the boys had called their home for the last ten years.
“Will Daddy know where we’ve gone?” TJ asked, looking up at the house. The three of them stood on the driveway next to the car Maggie had spent all morning packing up with the personal belongings they didn’t want to put in the moving truck.
She crouched down beside her youngest son, snaking an arm around his slight shoulders. “Of course he will. Daddy will always know where you are because he’s in here.” She placed her hand over his chest, right where his heart was.
“Oh, brother,” Jack scoffed, looking down at the ground, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.
Maggie rolled her eyes at Jack before managing another smile at TJ. She stood, brushing her hands over the back of her jeans. “Okay. Are we ready?”
“Yeah.” TJ shrugged, big eyes looking up at her as he added with uncertainty, “I guess.”
“No,” Jack muttered, pouting dramatically.
“Well, on that enthusiastic note …” With a wry smile, she clapped her hands together, pointing to the car. “Let’s go!”
***
They’d stopped for an early lunch at a truck stop on the Interstate, and they’d been driving for just over an hour since their break. TJ had been sleeping for a good twenty minutes, so it was just Maggie and Jack accompanied by an uncomfortable awkwardness overwrought with tension. She’d tried to indulge in casual conversation, but her son would offer no more than a scowl while tapping his headphones, flashing her a death-like glare from across the center console every time she said a single word. She chose, instead, to listen to the music playing over the radio. She didn’t stop herself from getting carried away with Tom Petty as he crooned through the speakers.
“God, can you stop!” Jack suddenly said, ripping the headphones off his head. “I can hear you over my podcast!”
Maggie ignored him, smiling to herself as she sang to the chorus completely off-key with likely a few wrong words here and there, her hand tapping against the steering wheel in time with the beat.
“This song sucks.” Jack lurched forward with a huff and switched off the radio. A heavy silence fell around them.
Maggie watched from the corner of her eye as he sagged back in his seat, glaring out the window. “Do you want to listen to something? You can put on whatever—”
“No!” he snapped back, silencing her. “I just want to sit here and not listen to you singing your pathetic old-people music.”
Old people? She wanted to laugh. She was yet to turn thirty-seven, but okay, Jack. She rolled her eyes with a quiet sigh, gripping the steering wheel as she concentrated on the road ahead. The scenery changed before her eyes, the Interstate lined with lush spruce trees and sky-high firs and she couldn’t contain her smile.
“Where the hell, even, are we?”
Maggie blinked, choosing to ignore his tone and profanity. He was angry. And she would accept it for now. But if he thought he was going to make a habit out of maintaining that attitude, then he had another think coming. She wouldn’t hesitate in shipping him down to Boca to live with the grandfather he hardly knew.
“We crossed over the border just after lunch.” She managed a tight smile, continuing with enthusiasm, “We’re officially in New Hampshire.”
Another silence settled between then, but the pressure was palpable. She could feel the anger emitting from almost every one of his pores as he shifted in his seat. He obviously had more to say; she was just waiting for it.
“You know, Dad wouldn’t like this.”
And there it was. Maggie tried to act unaffected by his words, casting a fleeting, casual glance across the center console. “Wouldn’t like what?”
He speared her with a hard glare she pretended not to notice. “Pulling us out of our schools. Moving us out of our home. Taking us across state lines. We’re minors; I’m sure there’s some kind of law against that.”
“I’m your mother!” she guffawed, trying to conceal her exasperated laughter.
“Yeah, well, Dad wouldn’t like it,” he sassed, folding his arms across his chest with stubborn finality.
Maggie pressed her lips together, and although she knew she shouldn’t antagonize him when he was in such a riled-up state, she just couldn’t help herself. “Well, Dad isn’t here anymore, is he?” And he didn’t leave us with much choice, she wanted to add, but chose to bite down on the inside of her cheek instead.
She felt Jack’s gaze flare with anger, and she knew if looks could kill she’d be the one who was currently buried six feet under in the cold hard ground, not Tom.
Jack scoffed, shaking his head and staring out through the windshield. “You might be able to fool TJ and tell him this is what our father always wanted, but I know the truth. This is you being selfish.”
“Selfish?” She entertained his accusatory presumption, arching a brow.
“Yeah. I think you miss him, and it was too hard for you to be in that house all by yourself. You’re running away from your sadness, and you couldn’t care less about ours.”
His words hurt, and she was forced to bite her tongue. Oh, Jack, if only you knew.
“God, I wish he was still here,” he muttered, adding under his breath, “I wish it’d been you …”
And Maggie wished like hell she hadn’t just heard that. But she did hear it. To be fair, she was almost certain he hadn’t meant for her to hear it. But she did. Loud and clear. And it cut right through her, jagged and painful, leaving a wound that hurt unbearably. She swallowed hard, her grip on the steering wheel tightening to the point of pain.
Sure, she could let it go. Allow his brutally painful words to slide. Brush them beneath the proverbial rug. But the tears pricking her eyes were making it almost impossible to act as if she wasn’t the slightest bit hurt. She couldn’t let this go. She couldn’t, not even if she wanted to. So, she didn’t. This time, he needed to be held accountable.
She cleared her throat. “You know … I hope you mean that, Jack.”
He turned at her words. She could feel his eyes settle upon her. But he didn’t say anything.
“One day I’m not going to be here,” she continued, still fixed straight ahead on the road. “I’m going to be gone. And you’re going to be left with nothing but the memory of every horrible, unimaginably mean thing you ever said to me, just to hurt me. You’re going to spend your days wishing you could take those words back, and beg for my forgiveness. But I won’t be here to forgive you. And moments like this will live on with you forever, eating you up on the inside.” She offered him a quick glance, meeting his wide, slightly fearful eyes. “Words might just be words, but once you’ve said them you can never take them back. Sorry doesn’t always cut it. So make sure you mean what you say.”
His throat bobbed with a hard swallow, jaw ticking, and she could feel him watching her long after she’d turned back to the road, his gaze weighty and hard. But he said nothing, turning to stare out his window, a contemplative silence hanging in the wak
e of Maggie’s words, shrouding them both.
Maggie turned the radio back on, and they continued the rest of the way as her old-people music played throughout the otherwise silent car.
***
“I think it’s just after this bridge.” Maggie peered out through the windshield as she navigated the car through a narrow, covered bridge, turning left straight after. The property sat off the main road and down a rocky trail. Looming trees lined the track, their branches entwining overhead to create a canopy that allowed for the occasional ray of sunlight to crack through, lighting the way.
“We’re literally in the boonies.” Jack huffed, skeptically taking in their surroundings.
“This is where Jason lives!” TJ cried, and Maggie silently chastised Jack for letting his little brother watch Friday the 13th with him a few months back.
“No, honey.” She shook her head. “Remember, Jason isn’t real.”
“Oh … my God.” Jack sighed heavily, his face screwed up with disgust. “Is that it?”
Maggie continued rolling the car down to the end of the rocky drive, clearing the trees to an open patch of overgrown grass and a somewhat familiar looking three-story structure which was nothing like the advertisement.
Oh no …
“What a freakin’ dump!” Jack hissed.
Pulling up to a stop, Maggie shut off the engine and silence hung in the air as they all stared out at the dilapidated building before them.
The place needed a hell of a lot more than just a coat of paint like she’d originally anticipated. The front steps were uneven, the wood buckled. The downstairs windows were boarded up. The porch screening was torn into shreds as if some rabid wild animal had tried to claw its way in. She warily looked around, for what, she didn’t even know, as regret settled like lead in her belly.
The Long Way Home Page 6