Return II

Chapter 22

Katherine's POV

By the time everyone is finished eating, it is almost eleven a.m. It is weird to me that everyone seems to finish simultaneously, almost one bite behind the next person.

When everyone finishes their last bite, nobody bothers to clean up their dishes. They just stand up and walk in a single-file line toward the door and pile out of it. Small conversations are made between each pair of two until everyone is outside and in their separate cars.

Once everyone is outside and I am the only one left in the house, I look around at my mess of a kitchen and place my palm on my forehead, a bit stressed at the amount of dishes that I will have to do tonight.

Car horns sound  from outside, making me jump out of my misery and back into reality.

"Hello?" I call to make sure no one else is in the house. I then grab my jacket from the rack to the left of the door, twist the nob to open it, and lock it once I am outside and it is firmly closed.

"Were you doing a little bit of OCD cleaning up?" my husband asks once I enter his car on the passenger's side and I smile, shaking my head. I draw in a deep breath as I reach back and pull the seat belt over my chest and slide it into the buckle.

"No, but I do have a lot of cleaning to do when we get back." I say and Joseph smiles, leaning toward me while pursing his lips. I clear the rest of the distance between the two of us and peck his lips with mine. A sweet gesture that we do not execute very often.

"Gross." Blanket says from the back seat and Michael laughs next to him. I turn around and smile at him while Joseph does the same, except he does so through the rear view mirror. Michael places his hand on his youngest son's knee and Blanket turns to face him.

"One of these days, you will have a relationship, and you will do much more than just that." Michael says, tilting his head toward Joseph and I. Blanket's facial expression changes from disgusted to embarrassed within seconds, and laughter fills the car as we back out of the driveway and onto the main road to the hospital.

Blanket's POV

Words cannot explain how happy and excited I am that Natalie hit a major breakthrough. Everybody, for so long, has been doubting Natalie's ability to recover from her coma, but I never did. I have never lost faith in her.

I prayed for her and it worked.

So many happy thoughts fill my mind, and I smile at myself, but try to hide it because I do not want to be asked to project what I am feeling to everyone in the car. I have done nothing but that ever since this all started.

Natalie is going to wake up. She is going to live. She going to get to go back to school. She's going to be able to get married and have kids one day. She is going to get to grow up with our family - the one she had known nothing about her entire life.

But one thing that she is going to be able to do since she is going to wake up sticks out more than any other thing she can or will ever do in her life:

She gets to meet our father.

Michael's POV

"I knew." my youngest son says , breaking the long streak of silence during our short car ride to the hospital. I become confused for a moment and decide to ask him about it. I turn to him and press my lips into a straight line.

"Knew what?" I ask. "What did you know?"

"Natalie," Blanket pauses and glances at me. For a moment I see myself in his eyes. My younger self, as a child.

"I knew from the moment I saw her that she was my sister. I could see it, and... I could feel it. I just knew."

Hearing these words coming from my youngest son sends shivers across my body and forces my heart into my stomach. I place my hand on his upper knee and give him a gentle pat. After that, he scoots toward me and leans his head on my shoulder.

Usually, I wouldn't become nervous when my children show me any kind of affection; especially Blanket, but I since I have not been around for a couple years, things are so much more different than they were when I was around.

"I love you." I whisper as quietly as my voice can manage, half hoping that my youngest son did not hear me, but I am corrected when he changes his tone of voice as well and answers my few words.

"Me too."