Nerves rise up in my stomach. The last time I was here, I felt like I was suffocating. Everything was off and wrong, and Rosie's absence was haunting me.
Miles sets the suitcases on the concrete.
Then his arm is around my waist and I'm sure it's going to be okay.
Mom answers the door. "Honey, I missed you." She takes a long look at Miles and nods a hello. "I'm Susan Smart."
"Miles Webb. Nice to finally meet you." He shakes her hand. "I can see where Meg gets her looks."
Mom blushes. "Thank you. Come in." She pushes the door open. "How was the drive?"
"Good. Not too much traffic." I step inside and scan the living room. It's as gorgeous and pristine as I remember. But something is missing. There used to be trophies on the mantle—Rosie's volleyball trophies. They're gone. One more piece of her is gone.
"Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea? A snack, maybe?"
I bite my tongue. "How about we put away our bags first?"
She nods and leads us up the stairs. There used to be half a dozen framed pictures on this wall—family photos,
the cheesy ones sent as Christmas cards—but they're all gone.
Mom smiles. "Did you kids want to stay in Meg's room or would you like to stay in the spare room, Miles?"
My jaw drops. We don't have a spare room. We have Rosie's room.
I know we have to move on eventually. I know people grieve in different ways. And maybe it hurts Mom too much to have Rosie's stuff here…
But how can she call that the spare room?
How can she take down all those pictures and hide all those trophies?
Miles steps in. It's like he can tell I'm about to snap.
"Thank you so much, Dr. Smart." Miles looks to me. "What do you think, honey? Want me to stay with you?"
I nod.
He turns to Mom. "You sure it's all right?"
She nods. "Yes, it's good for you, sleeping next to someone you love. The touch produces oxytocin. That's the love hormone. It's what makes you feel all warm and fuzzy." She offers a half-smile. "Dopamine too."
"I know dopamine. The pleasure hormone." Miles offers her a very full smile.
"Yes." Mom turns to me. "I'm glad you found someone smart."
"He did go to Stanford, the show-off." I try my best I'm having such effortless fun joking about my boyfriend smile. It's horrible.
He places our suitcases in my room then slides his arm around me. He leans in to whisper, "Should I tell her I have a motorcycle?"
I laugh. I'm tempted to tell her myself. I have no idea how Mom will act towards the bad-boy version of Miles. Ever since Rosie died, she's been unpredictable.
Mom leads us downstairs. "How did you two meet? Meg doesn't talk about guys very often."
"She's studious." Miles plays with my hair. "She's quite the nerd, really."
Mom smiles. "She went as Princess Leia for Halloween five years in a row."
"This year too," he says. "I'm a friend of Kara's. Well, a friend of a friend."