Finding My Way Home (4 page)

             
“My father left us; he gambled every penny we had saved and eventually we lost the house.  By the time my mother realized he was not coming back, we were already too deep in debt and had a month to move out. Two weeks later we were on our way to Texas to live with my uncle.” 

             
“Why did you not tell me who you were yesterday?”

             
“Because I didn’t know how you would take it. I never wanted to leave without saying goodbye.  I need you to know that.  I was just a kid without a voice, so when my mom said we’re leaving all I could do was pray that one day I’d be able to come back and find you.” His voice is shaky, as if he’s overcome with grief. 

             
“I think you should go.  I am done here for today; I’m done with all of this.”  I am too confused about everything and so much has happened in the past two days.  The more I think about it, the more I just want to drop everything and go back to Boston where everything is in order making me feel safe.

             
“Let me help you.  Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you yesterday but seriously what did you expect me to say?  Hey remember me?  I’m the kid that was crazy in love with you ten years ago then vanished in thin air without a word?  Shit happens.  Just let me help you,” he pleads.

             
“Why are you so bent on helping me?  What’s in it for you?  Are you hoping she left you something?  Is that why you came back?”

             
I regret saying the words the minute they are out of my mouth but it’s too late to take it back.  He pushes one of the boxes out of his way then storms out of the room without a single glance in my direction.  What have I done? 

            
 
I’m sitting on the floor in the middle of the crowded attic surrounded by boxes and silence.  As much as I want to continue looking for the letter, I’m out of energy and any desire for that matter, so instead I turn off the lights and go in search for something to eat.  The canned soup I find in the pantry will have to do as I’m not about to go shopping in the pouring rain.  I won’t be around for much longer after all. 

             
As I’m waiting for the soup to heat, I find myself thinking of Noah and the way things were before he moved away.  There was not a day that we didn’t spend together.  I still remember how much I hated him when I realized he left me without a word.  At thirteen it felt like the world was ending and for the longest time I wondered if maybe it was something I said or did that made him leave. 

             
The bubbly soup burns my mouth but I feel no pain.  I have to force myself to eat a few spoonfuls before discarding the, now cold, meal.  Maybe a quick call to Joe will make me feel positive again so I dial his number.  

             
“This is Joe,” he answers on the second ring.

             
“It’s me. Do you have a sec?”

             
“Hey babe.  Sure, let me just tell Phil.  He’s on the other line.” 

Phil is one of the partners at the firm and a very nice guy. 

              “Ok sorry about that.  So what’s up?  Ready to come home?”

             
“Not yet.  The truth is I don’t think I’ll be able to resolve the house thing anytime soon.” I end up telling him the whole story, about the letter, Noah and everything else.

             
“God Brenda, this is really stupid.  How can you trust some stranger?  You’re putting everything on hold to look for a letter that may or may not exist.  Can you just take a second here and listen to yourself?”

The more he
speaks, the more I wish I had not called.  Leave it to Joe to make me question my sanity once again. 

             
“I know how it sounds but without this letter I can’t get the will and I need to figure out what to do with the house.  I need this for me, crazy or not.”

             
“Let me contact your grandma’s lawyer and get it all sorted out before you waste more time there.  Why don’t you just get me the information and I’ll take care of it.  Come home tomorrow babe.”

He makes all the sense in the world; still the heart and mind have different plans. 

              “I’ll think about it, ok?  How was dinner last night? Did you get a new client?”  We talk about his work and I’m glad he’s no longer pressuring me about going home. 

             
I curl up in one of the big chairs in front of the fireplace and pretend to be reading.  My eyes feel heavy and before I can help it, I’m drifting into the world of dreams.  I’m not fully asleep but can’t seem to be able to get up either.  No longer in my chair, I’m flying through a thick curtain of fog, back in time, and judging by my reflection, I’m around thirteen. 

             
The fog starts to dissipate and I recognize our backyard, the big tree surrounded by my nana’s flowerpots and my old swing freshly painted.  There is a boy waiting for me there and he is holding a box in his hand.  I start feeling a rush of happiness the closer I get and so I try to reach him faster.

             
“Hi princess,” the boy says.  He is so beautiful and so familiar.  We hide behind the tree and sit on the fresh grass, his hand now holding mine. 

             
“What do you have in the box,” I ask him excitedly.  He pushes what looks like a shoe box towards me and I’m trying to open it with one hand, not willing to let go of him yet. 

             
He’s covered the box in red paper and painted pink hearts all over it and it melts my heart knowing he did all of this for me.  I push away the lid and lying inside there’s the most beautiful pink rose I’ve ever seen.  I throw my arm around his neck, surprising us both, and he returns my embrace. 

             
“I love it,” I whisper in his ear and he holds me closer until we become one. I’ve never been this close to a guy before and it feels heavenly, so good that I don’t want to ever let go.

             
“Happy Valentine’s day princess,” he smiles then reaches inside the box for something.  I think he’s pulling the flower out, instead he’s holding a silver chain with a tiny heart on it.  I pull my hair to the side so he can put it on for me.  As his fingers make contact with the back of my neck, I feel shivers down my spine. 

             
“It’s beautiful, Noah.”  I pull him in for another hug just as my nana’s voice comes from the kitchen window calling us to eat. 

             
“You are beautiful,” he tells me and I’m drowning in his words.  I love him so much in this moment and I know we will always be together. I can hear a weird noise coming from afar, barely there at first, but getting louder by the second.  It’s getting closer and closer and it’s hurting my ears.

             
“What is that noise Noah,” I turn to him but he’s fading in the shadows.  “Don’t leave me,” I scream but he can no longer hear me.

-----

              I wake up with a start, drenched in sweat, still feeling the warmth from his embrace.  The noise is still here, coming from my cell phone, letting me know it’s time to get up.  It is only five in the morning but I know I won’t be able to go back to sleep.   I hug my knees to my chest and try to make sense of the dream.  It felt so real because it was once real.  I still have the necklace in my old room as a reminder of just how real the dream was.  Damn you Noah for coming back now after all these years.  Why couldn’t he just stay away?  Better yet, how am I going to stay away? 

             
I changed into warmer clothes and decided to go look for a coffee shop.  I swore off coffee almost a year ago but today was one of those days.  The air is so cold that my fingers go numb holding the steering wheel.  I turn the heat up and wait for the car to warm up a little; the street is really quiet at this hour, very few lights on as everyone tries to start their day.  I look at the house across the street and wonder if he is already awake; I wonder if he has the same dreams I do and if he ever wonders what might have happened if he never left.

             
I drive around for a while and can’t believe my luck when I find the old donut shop.  Every weekend my papa used to come here early in the morning and buy us a dozen of the warm and sugary pastries.  The minute I walk in I’m surrounded by the aroma of fresh coffee and dough.  I’m still deciding on what to order, when an elderly lady approaches me and pulls me in for a hug.

             
“Oh my Lord I can’t believe it’s you.  Brenda sweetie it’s been too long since we’ve seen you.”  She pulls back to take a better look and I’m still too shocked to say anything. “Oh honey I was just talking to my Ricky about your poor grandma.  I am so sorry for your loss dear and if you need anything you let me know, you hear?  We are all family around here and we take care of our own.” She hugs me one more time then walks behind the counter.  “Now what can I get you?”

             
I forgot how small the town is and that everyone pretty much knows everyone’s business.  I take a deep breath and before I can think about it, I order a dozen mixed donuts and two jumbo croissants, and two extra large coffees.  The nice lady eyes me curiously but she’s too polite to ask who the second coffee is for.  I juggle the box and coffee to the car and as I’m driving back to the house, I try to come up with an excuse as to why I should stay away from Noah.  Unfortunately I can’t think of anything and while I park the car in his driveway I pray that he will accept my apology.  Coffee and donuts in hand I walk up the few steps to the door and have to use my nose to ring the bell.  It takes a few tries but eventually I can hear him coming to the door.

             
“Alright, alright, I hear you.” 

             
Noah is wearing nothing but a pair of shorts and I can now see the whole tattoo that’s covering his entire left arm and part of his chest.  Oh God have mercy and keep me from fainting or I’ll end up dropping everything at his feet.  I know I’m staring but I just hope I don’t end up drooling all over myself. 

             
“What are you doing here,” he asks and I’m thinking maybe this was a bad idea. 

             
“I came to say I’m sorry.” 

             
“Hmm, and I take it that’s your peace offering,” he says and points to the coffee.

             
“It all depends on if I’m forgiven or not.”   He pulls the door all the way to the side to make room for me and grabs the coffee tray from my hand.  Once inside, he closes the door and moves ahead of me leading the way to the kitchen.  The place is really small and scarcely furnished; not what I expected since he said he’s lived here for three years. The kitchen is just as tiny but very clean and bright.  I sit at the small table by the window and Noah brings a small sugar bowl and some cream for our coffees.  I really wish he would put some clothes on, at least a shirt or something but he doesn’t seem to be too eager to do so.              

“ Hmm
this is good,” he says after taking a sip of the coffee.  “So why the change of heart?”

             
“Because I know what I said was wrong.  It was uncalled for and I’m really sorry.”

             
“You sure it’s not because you need my help?”  As harsh as his honesty is, it’s also refreshing to be around someone who speaks his mind, not worried about whether he will be accepted or not. I’m about to answer him but get interrupted by the ringing of my cell.  I know the ringtone and I also know I have to answer and yet I don’t. 

             
“Noah I do need your help.  I have no one else here so if you’re willing to put our differences aside for the next few days and help me that would be great.  I know I’m asking for a lot but I don’t know what else to do.”  I took a bite of my croissant just so I could push back the sobs that were threatening to escape.

             
“Where’s the magnificent boyfriend,” he asks mockingly. As nice of a person as I am, he is pushing all the wrong buttons right now and I feel overtaken with anger.

             
“Ok you know what I knew this was a bad idea,” I say as I try to get up and put my coat on at the same time.  I am having a hard time moving the chair back and I make the small table shake in the process. 

             
“Sorry.  Bad joke.  Don’t leave.”

             
I sit back and we continue to drink our coffee without saying a word, neither one willing to break the silence.  As long as we didn’t talk, no unwanted questions would be asked and it was safer this way. The sound of my cell startles me and I awkwardly try to turn down the volume while I make a mental note to return Joe’s call once I’m back at the house.

             
“I better let you get dressed but come on by whenever you’re ready,” I say and move away from the table, this time without taking the whole darn thing with me. 

             
“Hm, listen, why don’t we do something else today?  Something that doesn’t involve a room full of dust and old stuff?  Something fun?”

             
For a moment the old me almost says yes but the responsible me is stronger and forces me to stay away.

             
“I can’t, I’m sorry.  I better go.” I’m almost at the door when his voice stops me.

             
“You can’t or you won’t?”

             
“You wouldn’t understand even if I told you.”  I try to make my escape yet his voice keeps me glued in the same spot.

             
“The girl I knew used to be so care free.  No rules remember?”

             
“The girl you knew is long gone Noah.  She grew up a long time ago.  I’ll see you later.”

             
I storm out the door without a look back; I know it’s best this way.  Back at home I remember the missed call and check to see if Joe’s left a message.  I dial his number and when there’s no answer I leave a message to let him know I’m ok and that I won’t be going home today.  Noah shows up a few minutes later and once again we find ourselves surrounded by boxes and old memories.  Every now and then I glance in his direction from the corner of my eye, thankful that he’s too busy to notice.  I can’t help but observe just how much he has changed since we were kids and yet there’s something about him that still feels the same.

             
“So can I ask you a few questions,” I ask casually while still looking through the stack of papers pilled on the floor in front of me.

             
“What do you want to know?”

             
“I don’t know.  Everything? What you’ve been up to for the past eleven years? Aside from growing your hair.”