Page 94 of Hearts on the Mend

Nana opens the door, not my parents, when I pull in late that night. “You look like shit, kid.”

I scoff. “Feel it.”

“Well, come in. I have a feeling we’ll all look like shit soon, judging by that face.”

“Glad to see you too,” I mumble.

The light over the stove is on, the small lamp by the dining table, and the soft light of the TV from the living room. Otherwise, the house is dark. I should have just started driving or grabbed a hotel room instead, but I couldn’t leave town without saying goodbye.

My mother comes down the stairs, wrapping her fleece robe tight around her, as Nana shuffles back from the kitchen with a cookie and shoves it in my direction.

“This might help.”

Maybe when I had a scraped knee when I was five. Don’t think a stale chocolate chip cookie is going to be enough to move past what I just left behind. Still, I stuff it in my mouth.

“You’re leaving,” my mom says matter-of-factly.

I pull out a chair at the dinner table and sink down, spreading my knees wide and bracing my elbows over them. I nod, not trusting myself to answer without my voice breaking. Instead, I dart my eyes around the room, landing on the lobster family Ruby drew that’s taped to the wall beside a picture of Ethan and Jack at the skating rink when they were younger and my parents’ wedding photo. Stuck there as if she’s been a Murphy all along.

“After everything you found? After everything you went through?” Nana asks. She rubs her short white hair, and it sticks up on one side. “You scared us to death when you were in that hospital.”

“I know. I never meant to…” I stare at my boots, my stomach swimming with shame. Think I’m disgusted with myself. All I wanted was to head back to the life I knew, but now that I can, the trade-off means leaving behind my girls. My family. “I love them both. But I have to go.”

“You do?” my mom challenges.

She already knows my answer, but I think she’s asking it anyway just to make me say it out loud.

When I peek up, I catch her quickly wiping tears away from her eyes. She sniffs, holding her arms out for me. “It’s late. Get some sleep before you head out in the morning.”

“Good night, son,” my dad says from the top of the stairs. He doesn’t come down.

My mom wipes quickly at her face again. “You’re always welcome back. We love you very much.”

“And we’ll look after the girls.” My father’s voice is gruff enough for me to know he’s crying too.

“You and your brothers never know a good thing unless it hits you in the face.” Nana shuffles forward in her pom-pom slippers and kisses my forehead. “Take care of yourself, love. Hope we see you soon.”

Chapter 30

Cassie

There’s a cardinal who likes to perch in the crab apple tree outside my bedroom and sing. Ruby’s named him Bruce.

I have a slew of other names for him when he starts trilling at five in the morning.

I roll over, only to be whacked in the face by a hand with rainbow sparkly nails before Ruby’s eyes pop open. “Hi,” she says, all sleepy.

She’s been sleeping in my room for the past two weeks since Nolan left.

At some point, we’ll need to address the fact that we can’t always share the bed. But both our hearts are broken right now, and I’m trying to be gentle. To her and myself.

I force a smile. “Hi. Ready to have another great day?”

She nods before proceeding to tell me about her dream. I try my hardest to follow along, but there’s something about goats and a flying squirrel, a snowman set out on revenge, and a butt. Ruby loves to slip in potty talk to test my boundaries. A spare poop joke is the least of my problems right now.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand. Nolan’s name lights up the screen. But I let it ring, same as yesterday.

“That’s him again,” Ruby says, peering over my arm. “Let’s say hi.”