Home is Where You Are (22 page)

After dinner last night
, Izzy let me use her computer. I logged into Facebook and continued the search for my sister. I looked until my eyes started to cross. I only had a few pages left but I couldn’t continue. The last thing I want is to skip over her picture because I can’t focus.

Izzy
is going with her friends to the mall so she told me I can try again when she’s gone. In the meantime, I read through a book on Ancient Rome. I liked this one because of the picture of the Coliseum on the cover. To think something so massive was built without the technology we have today, and is still standing, fascinates me.

I’m trying not to think of Anna
, but even a stupid book has my thoughts drifting to her. If the Romans could build something from nothing, why can’t I? Am I really that hopeless? For a second I thought I could make something of myself, get off the street and be the type of guy Anna deserves, but I get knocked down and I let it all slip away. Just like that.

“Dean
, I’m leaving!” Izzy calls out through the guestroom door.

“Thanks.”

“Now don’t go snooping through my stuff!”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” I say as the front door slams shut.

Izzy’s room is exactly what I would expect it to look like. Every inch of her walls is covered with Hollywood teeny boppers and everything is pink and purple and fluffy. It literally looks like a unicorn threw up in here.

Even her computer screen has a pink fluffy cover. I’ve heard of steering wheel covers but a computer cover? Whatever, it’s a computer
, and that’s all that matters. I sit in the hot pink computer chair and wiggle the mouse to stop the Justin Bieber slideshow, which thanks to Izzy, I now can say I know who he is. She thinks my life is now complete. It almost was, since I wanted to shoot myself halfway through the second song.

Last night I only had a few pages left so I type in Josie and resume my search on the last page. It’s easier than starting over from the beginning. The first page is a dud
, unless my sister aged twenty years and changed her ethnic background.

The second page isn’t much better. One picture
catches my eye, but after a closer look there’s no way she’s my sister. Granted, I haven’t seen her in years, but I think I would know my own sister when I see her.

My hope
dwindles. But could I legitimately imagine, after all this time of searching, it would be as simple as making a Facebook account to find her?

Then
, as I click onto the fourth page.

M
y heart stops.

Everything stops.

Staring back at me is my family. My mom, my dad, me, and Josie. It’s the picture I carry around with me, except we’re not all staring at the camera. We’re looking at each other, laughing.

I remember the moment. The photographer asked
Dad to sit beside Mom and when he did, his pants split right up the back. We were all laughing so hard it took twenty minutes for us to let the red in our cheeks fade and regain our composure. Poor Dad had to finish the photo shoot with a huge rip in the back of his pants.

I had forgotten about
that until now.

A laugh
slips out and it feels good. Almost refreshing. I click on the picture. Of course the profile is private. I’m glad it is. She’s only twelve, and I hope wherever she is they care enough about her to keep her safe.

My eyes roam the page
, and I find a link where I can send a message. Without even a second thought, I click on it. A box pops up. What do I write?

Anna would know what to say.
My eyes burn, but I violently push it away with my palms then wince at the pain. Shit. I keep forgetting about my face.

My fingers nervously tap the keys. I’m not typing anything
, just tapping.
Think Dean. Think.

Hey
, I write, then quickly delete. Hello. No that makes me sound like an ass. This has to be her. I should be jumping up and down. I should write anything. Something. I can’t. What if she’s happy? What if she was adopted by a good family? Has a good life. The last thing she’d need is a deadbeat brother showing up.

What if she doesn’t remember me at all?

My eyes focus on the picture again. Josie is looking at me, her mouth open in mid-laugh, that stupid seal in her grasp. She’s my sister. No matter how much time has passed it doesn’t change anything. She’s my sister and if she has this picture up, there’s a reason for it. Maybe I’m not the only one who’s been searching. Maybe she’s been looking for me too.

Hi, my name
’s Dean and I lost my sister several years ago but after seeing your profile picture I have a feeling I found her. Josie, if this is you, God I hope it is you, you need to know I have been looking for you for years. I should never have let us get separated and I have regretted it every day since. Please, if this is her I just need to know you’re okay. I pray you are okay.

Dean
Lando

It’s wordy and desperate
, but I don’t care. I hit send before I can give myself a chance to rethink After all these years of desperately searching it could all come down to this one message.

My first thought is to call Anna. Tell her I possibly have found my sister, but the minute I shut the door in her face
, I shut her out of my life. I’m beginning to think that was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.

Something good finally happens to me
, and what do I do? I fuck it up.

Lying here
, staring at the ceiling is making me think too much. My mind is a dangerous place right now, and I need to keep it focused on anything, but my life, my future and Anna.

In the kitchen I rummage through the cabinets. Nothing is catching my attention
and I laugh. I’m homeless, and now I’m being picky about what I eat. This is what I mean when I told Anna about getting too comfortable. Once I’m better, once I can walk without flinching in pain I’m back on the street.

A
Ziplock bag filled with bagels grabs my attention. As soon as I see a cinnamon raisin my indecisiveness is no longer. In the fridge I find cream cheese, and seconds later my taste buds are in heaven.

The phone
on the wall taunts me. Seven simple pushes on seven small buttons and I could be talking to Anna. I can apologize, tell her I was wrong and it does matter what she thinks.

Seven simple pushes.

Seven small buttons.
 

Instead, I shove the rest of the bagel in my mouth. I don’t know what’s keeping me from calling her. I don’t know if its fear of the unknown or if it’s just me feeling sorry for myself. A little bit of both probably
, and even a touch of embarrassment. I just can’t call her. I can’t bring myself to do it.

I go to
Izzy’s room and log back on Facebook. It’s been a few hours since I sent the message. Even if my mind kept drifting back to Anna, at least it kept me from dwelling on the picture. I don’t want to get my hopes up, but it has to be her. There is no other logical explanation for finding a picture of me and my family on Facebook.

Once logged on
, I immediately look to my messages. Nothing. Under my friends list Anna’s picture catches my eye. It’s hard to miss her. She’s my only friend. God she’s beautiful. I’m not even safe on Facebook.

I’m about to log off when a number one pops up next to my messages. I stare at it. It could be an answer I’ve been searching for the past few years
, or it could be Anna. Either way I’m terrified.

It takes all I have to swallow my fear and click on my messages. With my heart racing, my hand shaking
, and my eyes burning I see my family picture. All I have to do is open this message and from there I will find out if the search is over. If I finally found my sister.

You’d think I would jump on it. What if it is Josie? And what if she hates me for letting her
get taken away? What if she wants nothing to do with me? God, I wish Anna was here. I need her. She would talk me through this.

I’ve been independent for years and there
’s no reason why I can’t do this by myself. I position the mouse over the message, close my eyes, and click.

With a deep breath
, I slowly open my eyes.

Dean is it really you? I never thought I’d hear from you again. I put our picture up hoping you’d find me and you did. I can’t believe you did. Where are you? How are you? I miss you
sooooo much! Please call me. My number is 631-555-0198. I’ve been waiting to talk to you for seven years. I love you. Josie :)

I read the message over and over. For seven years my life has revolved around finding my sister. I can’t believe it. I found her. And it’s all thanks to Anna. I owe her more than she will ever know.

After reading the message one last time, I walk in the kitchen and grab the phone that’s been taunting me all day. So much time has passed. I wonder if she’ll sound the same.

I smile thinking of the area code. We’re in the same county.

Seven simple pushes.

Seven small buttons.

I can’t dial them fast enough.

The phone rings and my chest tightens, my throat closes, but once I hear her voice the tightness loosens, my throat opens up.

“Josie? Hi, it’s Dean, your brother.”

It’s been a week since Dean slammed Marv’s front door in my face. I’ve resisted the urge to go back there
, and I haven’t even been to The Bagel Hole to get my cinnamon raisin bagel. If he doesn’t want to see me, then I definitely don’t want to see him.

I’ve thrown myself into my schoolwork and volunteering. This week alone
, on top of my time at the soup kitchen, I’ve read at the local children’s hospital, spent time visiting with the residents of the McAllister Adult Home, and helped plant a garden at the town park.

All my college applications are filled out, essays written and have all been sent. I’ve caught up on my schoolwork including an extra credit assignment I persuaded Mr. Wilson to give me in order to compensate for my C.

I even went to the movies with Katie last night. It was a nice change of pace. She’s cut back on dating, for now, and has been hanging around my place.

Mo
m has stuck to her word. She’s there when I wake up in the morning and there when I go to sleep at night. It’s nice. I thought having her around would drive me crazy since I’m so used to being on my own, but I’m beginning to realize how sick of being alone I actually was.

Still
, I can’t stop thinking about Dean.

Mom left this morning. There’
s an antique show a few towns over, and I understand she can’t stop working. She actually invited me to go, and while tempting, I declined.

It’s time I stop avoiding Dean. If it’s over between us,
that’s fine. I guess. But mostly, if it is, I just want closure. I can’t let it end the way it did.

I’ll start at T
he Bagel Hole. That’s my best bet.

I’m about to walk out the door when my house phone rings. I run back in and look at the caller ID. Seth. He never calls the house phone
, doesn’t want to risk getting Mom.

I pick up the phone
, my heart racing, and I blurt out, “What’s the matter?”

“Well hello to you t
oo, BS.”

“
You know you called the house phone right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“You never call the house phone! What’s the matter? What’s wrong? Are you in trouble?”

“Nothing, nothing, and no. Has anyone told you, you need to calm down? Stress causes premature wrinkles, you know.”

“You’re not funny,
” I say.

“Yes
, I am.”

“Think what you want. So really
, what’s going on?”

“I
… um… I was thinking.”

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Shut up. I was thinking about what you said. Thanksgiving’s coming.”

I drop my bag to the floor and sit down on the closest thing to me, the coffee table.

“Yeah.”

“And I think you were right. I think it’s time I come home.”

Tears fill my eyes, seriously when did I start crying so much?

“Really?”
It comes out softer than I hoped.

“Really.”

“Why now?” I’ve been asking him
to come home since the day he left, and it was always a waste of time. What changed?

“I don’t know
, it just seems like it’s time. After you told me about your talk with Mom I couldn’t believe she actually mentioned Dad. She hasn’t mentioned him since the day he died.”

“I know.”

“Maybe I can even help you with your college applications.”

“They’re done.”

“I should’ve known. So where’d you apply?”

“Every Ivy League school across the country.”

“Isn’t there one in particular you want to go to? Like your dream school?”

“No.”

“Anna
…” He pauses. “You have to stop living for dad and start living for yourself.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You don’t even know what college you want to go to. All you care about is that it’s Ivy League because once upon a time Dad said you were smart enough to go to one. It has always been what he wanted for you, but Anna, it was a comment. It meant nothing.”

“Shut up
, Seth. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No, Anna
, I do. We can’t keep doing this. He’s dead, and it sucks, but we have to start living for us and not for him. Look, I’m sorry, but since Dad died you’ve been obsessed. You’ve already missed out on so much. College should be your time to finally discover who you are. Maybe you should look past the status of these schools and look into what they offer and what it is you want.” His words remind me of Dean. He said something along those lines. But I don’t know what I want. I don’t think I ever have. All I know is right now I want to talk to Dean and after I do that I can start worrying about my future.

“Are you there? You’re not crying are you? I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“Seth, I have to go.”

“What do you mean you got to go? We need to finish this conversation.”

“We will when you come home for Thanksgiving and help me look into the college that’s right for me, but right now I need to go after what I want.” I hang up and run out the door. I might not know what my future holds, but I do know I want Dean to be there.

The Bagel Hole is my first stop. I walk in and
spot Marv, but no Dean. I thought he’d be healed by now. I thought he’d be back to work. What if he took off? He told me he couldn’t guarantee to be in one place for too long. It’s been colder than usual. What if he left Marv’s and couldn’t get into the Y and then moved on to the next town?

I feel like I’m going to be sick. The room is spinning
and I can’t focus. “Anna!” My vision clears and Marv’s standing with his hand resting on my shoulder.
“Please tell me he didn’t take off.”

“I don’t know.
Last night we invited him to stay with us. For as long as he wanted to. He got dealt a damn shitty hand, but he’s a good kid.”

“So what happened?”

“He told me he’d think about it and this morning I went in his room and he was gone.”

“He was gone? No note? No nothing?”

“Nothing. He was acting a little strange yesterday, but when I asked him what was going on he didn’t say anything.”

“I have to find him. I need to talk to him. If you hear anything please call me
.” I rip out a piece of paper from my planner and write my number down.

“I will
, and if you find him, tell him I’m going to kick his ass.”

“You can count on it,” I say, as I run out of the store and back to my car. The only problem is I have no idea where to go. He c
ould be anywhere. He could be gone.

No. I have to stay positive. I’ll just go to all the places I know he goes and hope for the best.