You Can Go Home Again

Chapter 18

I stand on the threshold of my past once more. Old memories swirl together with newer memories as I take in every brick that stacks up to create what has always been my home. I stand looking at the door that promises family squabbles, tight hugs, passive aggressive comments and plenty of alcohol on the other side. I readjust my bag on my shoulder as I ponder what everyone's reactions will be that I'm coming home a couple of days early. I slowly remove the hand covering where my stitches are on my abdomen to open the door.

Just as I suspected, I hear familiar voices bickering about trivial matters coming from the living room. I stay in the shadows for a moment watching a bottle of wine get passed around the room, filling glasses probably for the third or fourth time. Snide remarks mixed with unabashed laughter fill the room. Years, days, minutes from now, I'll have no idea what the bickering was about because I'm not truly listening. Instead, I'm drinking in this moment, this memory, etching every detail in my mind. Never in my life will I take for granted those who exist before me again, as I can never know when one of us might be taken. I left this behind once before, and I may leave again, but this time I will not abandon everyone.

Hope locks eyes with me as she exclaims, "Harper! You're home!" Everyone else turns to look at me before rushing out of their seats.

"What are you doing here?"

"I thought I was picking you up in a couple days."

"Are you sure you should be carrying that?"

"Okay, please everyone, calm down," I let go of my bag as Stanton already has it half off my shoulder. "The doctors let me out early, so I thought I would surprise y'all." I move to take a seat on one of the armchairs as the rest of the family follows closely.

"I mean, are you sure that it's okay that you're on your feet so soon?" Hope's voice carries a note of worry despite her smile.

"Being on my feet is all part of the healing process," I smile reassuringly at her and then the rest of the room. "Although, if you'll notice, I'm currently sitting, which you're all welcome to do as well." Small laughs fill the room as everyone finds a seat. Mom sits close to Dad on the loveseat across the room, reaching a hand comfortingly out to his. Stanton and Thomas sit on either side of Hope on the couch perpendicular to me. Derrick remains standing in the back corner of the room, continuously avoiding eye contact with me. I can't blame him.

"How are you feeling?" Mom leans forward with her words.

"What are the police saying?" Stanton asks with a mixture of concern and stoicism.

"Are you allowed to have a drink?" Thomas offers handing me a fairly full bottle of wine.

"Thomas!" More than one person simultaneously scolds as I take the bottle.

"Thank you, Thomas. I was wondering when someone would have the manners to offer me a beverage," I eye each of my family members playfully before taking a swig straight from the bottle.

"Ah! Seriously?" Hope exclaims. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand as Hope opens a new bottle. "That one can be yours. This is like the orange juice in high school all over again!"

"Are you sure you should be drinking?" Mom does not try to hide any concern from her face or voice.

"I declined anymore painkillers. I would like to heal the rest of the way as naturally as possible. Besides," I take another swig before continuing, "I'd feel weird if the entire family was drinking without me."

"So, the police?" Stanton presses again. I take a deep breath gazing around the room, willing Derrick to lock eyes with me even for a moment.

"I've explained the entire story to them about thirteen times. Sometimes they've asked for bits out of order I'm sure just to see if I was lying. I sometimes wish I could say I was making it all up. I know how much easier it would be on many people in this room," I pause looking around once more. Dad has tears that he is clearly trying to keep at bay, whereas Hope is freely letting them flow silently down her cheeks.