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“Come on in,” she says, and turns so I will follow her.
I hesitate a moment, but go in anyway. Maybe it’s better that I’m not all dolled up.
“He’s out back,” she says and motions through the house. Then turns and makes her way down the hallway, leaving me.
I stand there, hands clasped in front of me, my thumb idly running along the pink bubbled scar on my other hand, and I scan around for a moment before I start on my way. This feels so surreal. I’m supposed to be at Trader Joe’s right now getting my food for the week. Instead, I’m here in the Mitchell house again.
Thanks a lot, Randy and Alan.
“Ms. Reed?” someone says from the living room. His voice is hoarse and a tad crackly. Like phlegm is caught in his throat.
I turn to see Harris watching me from the wingback chair. The same one Magnolia was in before I left.
He looks so much better. Lucid.
“Hi there,” I say and add, “Harris, right?”
“That’s right.” He attempts a smile, though I can tell it’s a struggle for him to do so. He then weakly lifts his hand and beckons for me to join him. “I thought I heard them say you were at the gate.” His relaxed features make it hard for me to decipher if he’s happy about that or not.
I make my way to the couch but stop at the armrest. I can’t bring myself to sit on it again. Not after what happened last time I was on it. Not to mention, Nanna is on the other end of it enjoying a snooze, head tilted back. Mouth open. I don’t want to disturb her. “Yeah, I came to see Jake.”
A faint nod. His dark eyes glint with humor. “And not visit with an old, slow man?”
I laugh, not with sympathy, but with admiration. “It’s nice to see you too, though.” I see where Jake gets his humor.
“I remember you, ya know.”
“You do?”
He has to take a breather before he continues. “I do. You came to visit months ago.”
I reel.
He’s right.
“You…remember that?”
A nod. “You sat with me there on the front porch.”
I huff a surprised chuckle. “That’s right. I did.”
“It’s nice to see your face again.” He muses about that for a long moment, then says, “Did Jake finally call you, then? He’s been obsessing about it for months.”
My heart kicks.
Heavy footsteps come this way, and I hold my breath, anticipating Jake to materialize. I hear him before I see him. “Now, Dad,” Preston playfully chides.
I perk at the thought of seeing him again. And that he doesn’t seem pissed at my presence.
“A man has to retain some mystery. Don’t go telling all his secrets.”
Harris rolls his eyes. “I believe in directness, son.”
I smile at him. I can respect that.
“Hey, sweetie,” Preston says, handing a steaming mug of tea to his father. He doesn’t look at me when he says it, carefully hovering over his father to make sure his newly working hands are able to handle the hot liquid.
“Hi,” I reply. “It’s good to see you.” And I mean it. He looks great.
