I put my hand over my heart and let out a breathy laugh. “Gosh. You scared me.”
He’s not deterred. Drew’s eyes are like lasers on Cooper’s shirt draping my body like a tent. “Whose shirt? It looks familiar.”
Oh shoot, oh shoot, oh shoot. What am I going to say? Lie? Tell the truth? Drop my bowl of cereal and run out the door? Actually, yeah, that make-a-break-for-it option sounds pretty good.
I swallow and tiptoe around the truth. “Just from a guy.”
“Which guy?”
Which guy…? Good question. “Why does it matter?” My pitch is too high. It sounds like a siren alerting him to danger.
Drew’s eyes narrow on my shirt like he’s trying to place it. I’M SUCH AN IDIOT. Why did I have to parade around the house in this like a lovesick shmuck? “Looks like one of Cooper’s t-shirts.”
I laugh a booming HA-HA-HA and throw my head back like no real person ever does when they are laughing because I’m a terrible liar. “Cooper’s shirt! Now that’s funny!”
His face is devoid of amusement. We look like an illustration of opposites. “Not really. What’s wrong with you?”
I wipe an imaginary laughter tear. “Nothing. It’s just a funny thought. Me, wearing one of your friend’s shirts. How would I have even gotten it? Broken into his house and stolen it without him knowing so I could wear it and smell it forever?”
He sighs. “Tell me right now—did you do that, Lucy?”
“Oh my gosh! No!” I pick up my bowl of cereal to carry it to my room and escape the brother inquisition. “I can’t believe you even asked me that.”
The moment my back is to him, I widen my eyes and puff out a relieved breath then hightail it to my room. Pretending to be angry at his lack of faith in me works, and Drew doesn’t bug me the rest of the morning about the clothes. I then try to concoct a believable story about the origin of these garments so I can wear them around the house for the rest of my life. Cooper is never getting them back.
“Helllloooo, anyone home?” I yell into my parents’ house.
“Up here, honey!” says my mom from upstairs.
I take the stairs two at a time like I’ve done forever then follow the sound of laughing all the way into their bonus room. I stop on the threshold and smile at the sight of what looks like a room struck by a hurricane of fun. All around, there are pillows forming various paths to end tables covered in blankets. There are plastic laundry hampers turned upside down and a long blanket tied to the running ceiling fan. My mom is standing like a flamingo, perched on the arm of the couch, and my dad is lying face down, acting like a human bridge with his feet on the couch and chest on the coffee table. Levi is walking, arms outstretched like wings, using my dad as a balance beam.
“Hi, hun! How’s your day?” asks my mom like this is the most normal situation to find them in.
I laugh and step in farther, ready to ask her what they’re up to, when the room collectively erupts in one giant “NOOOO!”, making me jump back and nearly fall onto my butt.
“What!” I ask, clutching my heart and wondering if it’s possible to die of fright.
“Mom, that’s lava!” Levi says, eyes wide and pointing to the floor where I was about to step.
“Ohhhh, I see now.” Suddenly, all the bridges and pillows make sense. “How do I get over there to you, then?”
“You have to take the fluffy golden road, over to the reading rainbow, and up the super slipper mountain.”
My mom raises her hand. “I made it up the slipper mountain, but I had a casualty.” She points to her foot. Apparently, if you touch the lava, you lose that extremity for the remainder of the game.
“And that,” says Levi, pointing to the blanket swirling in the middle of the room, “is the tornado. Don’t get near it or it will suck you up!” Levi’s eyes are shining as he relays the rest of the rules to me. His cheeks are rosy and bright, and my heart stretches painfully.
I felt like a failure having to come home and move in with Drew after leaving to make a fresh start in a new town. It wasn’t even that there was anything wrong with Nashville or my family or friends. I just felt this overwhelming need to try something new. Make a change. And yeah, maybe get away from all the tourists thinking cowboy boots and hats are the proper attire for our city. Believe me, there is no faster way to be hated by Nashville natives than to dress up like you’re going to a honky-tonk for brunch.
But no matter how hard I tried to make Georgia feel like home, it never worked. There was always a gaping hole that Levi and I could both feel. And now, being here and seeing my kid happy and reunited with my parents, I know coming home was the right thing to do.
“How was your night?” Mom asks after I’ve made it down the fluffy golden road, over the reading rainbow, and up the slipper mountain to stand on the armrest with her.
My mom and I look remarkably similar, which honestly, I’m grateful for. I’ve always looked young for my age, and even now, people assume I’m Levi’s nanny most of the time, but I don’t hate it because it just means I’ll age as gracefully as her.
“It was great,” I say as we hug while trying not to topple off the armrest.
Suddenly, I hear her take in a sharp sniff, and she pulls back to look at me. “YOU SPENT THE NIGHT WITH A MAN!”