Take Me Home

I can’t believe I’m back here.

Grand Miseny is a town of only five thousand people. It’s large enough not to know everyone’s name or deep, dark secrets, but it’s small enough to feel suffocating. It’s not that I don’t like the town or even the people in it, but I left for a reason. Six years ago, I chose a college that was four hours away by car to put some distance between me and my dad and brother. I planned to stay in Chicago and find a career, but my dad wanted me to return home. I protested at first, but he bribed me with an offer that I’d be stupid to refuse.

“Well, this is it,” I tell Hazel, my best friend and roommate, as we finally locate our new apartment–paid in full for an entire year by my dad. Hazel agreed to move here with me since she’s from the area also and didn’t mind the idea of being back with her family.

“And you’re positive that your dad is okay with me living here with you?” Hazel asks as I fumble for the key that my dad’s assistant left in the mailbox.

“More than okay with it,” I assure her as I unlock the door to our new home. I swing the door open and see that my dad had the place pre-furnished with a washer and dryer, a couch, a large TV, and a kitchen table and chairs. As we walk through, we notice that our personal things made it here and are already set up in our bedrooms and bathrooms. It saves us the time and effort of having to shop for things and move ourselves, but I wish Hazel and I had gotten the opportunity to pick out what we wanted. One of the biggest reasons I left Grand Miseny in the first place was to gain the freedom and independence to make my own decisions.

“Oh shit,” Hazel says as she examines the kitchen. “Look at the cooking appliances! All the latest top brands… Your dad spared no expense.”

“He said he wants to come over for a home-cooked dinner one night,” I tease. “It was one of the stipulations for you living with me.”

“I think I can manage that,” Hazel says with a content sigh, running her hands over the stainless steel appliances, most of which I can’t identify. She’s a professional chef, and she loves her career because she can do it anywhere. Her dream job is traveling the world to cook for celebrities and one day open her own high-end restaurant.

We both go to our respective rooms to unpack and decompress after the long day of travel. I call my dad and put him on speaker as I take out my clothes from my suitcase.

“Hi, Sweetheart,” Dad answers chipperly.

“Hi, Dad,” I say. “I just wanted to let you know we just got to the apartment.”

“Oh good,” he says. “What do you think?”

“It’s nice,” I say. “Thanks for the furniture. And Hazel loves the kitchen stuff.”

“No problem at all,” he says. “I’m glad to hear you’re both happy. Well, I’ll let you get settled in. I’d like for you to meet me at the office tomorrow morning.”

“Sure,” I say.

“Okay, see you tomorrow,” he says. “I love you, Aly-cat.”

“I love you, too, Dad,” I say and then hang up.

I finish putting my clothes away and then change into my pajamas. I meet Hazel in the kitchen, where she’s also in her pajamas, making dinner with her new gadgets. “Just in time,” she says and shoves a plate with a stack of pancakes at me.

“Yum,” I say and head to the table with my goodies. “Thanks.”

Unless there’s something we just absolutely have to talk about, neither Hazel nor I are big chatter-boxes, and it works for us. We often eat dinner together either at the table while doom-scrolling or on the couch while watching a movie. Our ability to find peace and comfort simply from being in the same room together is one of the many reasons we’ve stayed friends after meeting at freshman orientation.

“Good night, girl,” Hazel says after handing me her plate.

“Good night,” I say.

After I wash the dishes, I head back to my room to settle in. Dad didn’t specify a time in the morning for me to come over, but I know that it’s implied to get there as early as possible. He’s someone that always has to stay busy; otherwise, he’ll get bored and antsy. From the moment he wakes up at 5:00am (6:00 if he sleeps in), he has to be on. My mom kept him balanced, as she was the one who knew how to slow down and enjoy life. Ever since she died ten years ago, he hasn’t stopped to think, to breathe, to grieve.

Sometimes I envy him for that.

It takes me a long time to fall asleep in the new place. Even with noise-cancelling headphones and an eyemask, I’m restless. My brain refuses to shut up and activate sleep mode. I have too many things on my mind, I guess. After about an hour of tossing and turning, I give up and open my laptop to put on a movie I’ve seen a thousand times. Maybe I can fall asleep to the sounds of teenage angst in a Mormon vampire romance story. Unfortunately, though, it doesn’t help, and I end up just watching the movie. At around 3:00am, I can’t take it anymore and wander into the kitchen to find a snack.

“Aly?” Hazel asks sleepily, trudging into the kitchen with a blanket over her shoulders.

“Sorry, I was trying to be quiet,” I answer.

“Are you okay?” she asks. “It’s 3:30 in the morning. What are you doing up?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” I say with a shrug and shove a spoon into a fresh jar of peanut butter. “You can go back to sleep. I was just getting a snack.”

“Okay, good night,” she says with a yawn and waddles back to her room.

I take the peanut butter to my room and sit on the edge of my bed, contemplating my life. I really hope this is just jitters from moving and that this isn’t going to be a long-term issue like it was before. I’ve had problems sleeping since my mom’s death, but it got better for a while when I started a therapist during my teen years until I left for college. The counselor at the university wasn’t very helpful, but sometimes I just needed someone to listen. Hazel knew a little bit since we grew up in the same town, but she didn’t know everything, and she still doesn’t. She’s always been a good friend and support system to me, but there are some things I don’t tell her because I can’t risk her accidentally slipping it to her parents.

I manage to fall asleep for a few hours and wake up around 6:00. I may as well get the day started, so I take a quick shower and then blow dry my hair and put on some concealer. I pull on some jean shorts, a T-shirt, and a pair of sandals since it’s almost ninety degrees outside. The heat is one thing I definitely don’t miss about this place. I grab a protein shake for the road and head out. I send Hazel a text that I’m leaving and will see her later. She’s likely staying holed up in her room for the day so she can rest before starting her new job tomorrow.

I don’t know if I still have parking privileges at the town hall building, but I’m going to risk it anyway. I pull in next to my dad’s car and take several deep breaths. Dad respected my decision to go away for school, as he supported me wanting independence and discovering who I am away from this small town. However, I fear now that I’m back that he and my brother are going to revert to their old over-protective and controlling ways.

Someone knocks on my window, scaring the shit out of me and pulling me from my thoughts. I turn to see my other brother–the one who isn’t controlling–standing there with a grin. I turn my car off and hop out to greet him. Maverick pulls me into a bear hug and spins me around. Then he ruffles the top of my head and ruins my ponytail.

“Dad told me you were back,” Mav says excitedly.

“I got in last night,” I say as I retie my hair. “I didn’t know you were back though. I thought you were out on that gig for the next few months.”

“I got back, like, an hour ago,” he says.

“Are you here to see Dad, too?” I ask as we start walking toward the front entrance.

“Hell no,” Mav says in disgust, as if I just asked if he wanted to eat a spider. “I’m only staying long enough to walk you in. And maybe take you for brunch when you’re done.”

“Count me in,” I say. “I guess I’ll see you later.”

“Later,” he says, putting his sunglasses on, and walking back to where we came from.

I take a deep breath and walk up the stairs to the entrance. Dad’s cubicle is in the same place it’s been for the past fifteen years–first floor, second door on the right. I poke my head inside and see him having an intense conversation with another member of the council. I’m just about to head out and wait for them to finish when he spots me.

“Aly-cat, come on in!” he says, standing up and waving me inside.

The woman he was talking to looks surprised that he’d have the audacity to interrupt her, but he doesn’t look like he cares. She walks off as I approach the desk. He wraps me up in an embrace that only a father can give and holds me for several long seconds.

“Dad,” I say after he starts squeezing me tighter. “Can’t. Breathe.”

“Sorry,” he says. “I just missed my girl.” He sits back down and then puts his computer in sleep mode. “I take it you and Hazel got settled in okay?”

“We did,” I say with a nod. “The apartment is nice, too.”

“And you’re okay on the second floor?” he asks. “I just wanted you all to be safe.”

“It’s fine, yeah,” I assure him.

“Good, good,” Dad says approvingly and leans back in his chair, taking me in. “I assume you haven’t talked to the twins yet.”

“I talked to Mav,” I say. “I’m meeting him for brunch.”

“And Everett?” he pushes.

“I’m not talking to him unless I have to,” I say truthfully.

“Well, I’m telling you you have to,” he says. “You know he means well.”

“He can mean well somewhere else,” I say.

“Alyson,” he scolds.

I roll my eyes. “Fine, I’ll text him,” I say and take my phone out. I find Everett’s contact with the poop emoji next to it and send him a text that I’m back. “Now the ball’s in his court.”

“Thank you,” he says.

“I’m going to start looking for jobs today,” I tell him, feeling the first burst of excitement since I’ve been here. “There are a few counseling positions open that I’m qualified for.”

“They’d be stupid not to hire you,” Dad tells me sternly.

My phone buzzes on my thigh, and I look down to see a reply from Everett.

Everett: Where are you?

Me: Dad’s office.

Everett: Wait there.

I sigh. “Everett’s coming,” I tell him.

“Are you ever going to tell me what happened between you two?” he asks. “You used to be so close. You used to look up to him.” I can see the disappointment in his eyes.

“Nothing really,” I say with a shrug. “He just got to be too much. I know he’s protective of me, but he was going way overboard, all the time. I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“He feels like it’s his job to protect you since Mom died,” Dad explains.

“I don’t need his protection,” I say. “I need to be able to make my own choices, even if they end up being mistakes.” Dad was right, of course. Everett and I used to be close. As he and Mav are ten years older than me, they were always protective of me, but Everett took it another level after our mother died when I was fifteen. “I just need him to be my brother.”

“He knows that,” Dad says. “And he’s trying. He just…has a hard time letting go.”

Dad quickly changes the subject and begins telling me about his campaign ideas. I know he’s distracting me from the fact that Everett is about to walk through the door, but it works…until my brother actually does walk through the door. I try not to frown. I try to greet him politely. I try to act like there’s no resentment there. I let him hug me, but it feels cold and stiff. I feel we’re more like acquaintances than siblings, and it makes me sad. Maybe once I find a job and start living my own life, he’ll back off, and we can be siblings again.

“It’s good to have you back where you belong,” Everett says with a smile.

“It’s good to be back,” I agree half-heartedly.

“I missed you,” he says, giving me a look like he’s hoping I’ll say it back.

“Everett,” Dad says, gesturing to the chair beside me. “Close the door.”

“Sure,” Everett says and closes the door. He steps back toward us and stops about a foot away from where I’m sitting, giving me the space I desperately need. He crosses his arms and purses his lips, looking like he wants to say something, but he shuts up and lets Dad speak.

“I know you two have…differing opinions, to say the least,” Dad says. “But this has been going on for too long. I need you to get along, if not because you’re family and should love each other, but for my upcoming campaign. I’m not saying you need to be BFFs and start braiding each other’s hair, but we need to at least appear like we have a close, loving family.”

“I can do that,” I say, “as long as he doesn’t try to tell me how to live my life.”

“I promise I won’t,” Everett says and makes the ‘cross my heart’ gesture.

“I’m holding you to that,” Dad tells him.

“Me, too,” I say.

“Now, can you guys talk out your issues like adults?” Dad asks.

“Yes,” Everett and I say simultaneously.

“Good,” he says. “Now, go. I have to get back to work.”

Everett and I head out, but he hesitates when we get to my car, which luckily doesn’t have a ticket in the window. “Do you want to get breakfast?” he asks. “Dad’s right. We need to talk.”

“I’m meeting Mav for brunch,” I tell him. “You can come…if you want.”

I’m not sure where his relationship with his twin brother stands, but it’s always been rocky at best. Maverick is carefree, outgoing, and flamboyant, while Everett is uptight, cold, and the opposite of fun. When they turned twenty-one, Mav took the first flight out to Los Angeles to pursue his dream of becoming an actor, and Everett stayed on the rule-following path of becoming a detective. They’re complete opposites in both appearance and mentality. If someone didn’t know them, they wouldn’t even think they were siblings.

“It’s okay,” Everett says with a frown, appearing visibly disappointed but trying to hide it. “We can meet up tomorrow, or another day.”

“You sure?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he says. “Have fun.”

“Okay,” I say. “See you later.”

Everett turns and walks toward his car on the other side of the parking lot, and I text Mav that I’m ready. He sends me the location of the new brunch place he’s already at–probably already a few mimosas in–and I put it in my GPS and head out. I remember where most things are since I lived here so long, but there have been several upgrades and additions; it’s starting to look less like a small town and feel a bit more modernized.

When I walk into the restaurant, I find Mav moping in a booth in the corner. And just like I suspected, he’s taking advantage of the bottomless mimosas. He’s usually the life of any party, and as cliche as it sounds, he can light up a room with just a smile, so it’s heartbreaking to see him looking so down. I slide into the seat in front of him and take the drink from him.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Just got lost in thought,” Mav says, shaking his head. He plasters on a fake smile and waves for the server to bring more mimosas. “Now that you’re here, the party can start.”

“Isn’t it a little early to be drinking?” I tease.

“It’s 5:00 somewhere,” he says with a grin.

The server brings two more mimosas, and he hands one to me. I sip at it and look at him expectantly, hoping he’ll tell what’s really going on. “Talk to me?” I ask sweetly.

Mav lets out a sigh and chugs half his drink. “I’m tired,” he says.

“Tired of what?” I press.

“Just…tired,” he says and then closes his eyes and rubs his temples. “Tired of having to prove myself. Trying to pretend that I’m someone I’m not.”

“Who are you trying to prove yourself to?”

“Don’t worry about it, Aly,” he says with a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. And then he looks at me with a more genuine expression. “So, tell me everything.”

“There’s not much to tell,” I say with a shrug. “I’m going to be applying for jobs soon.”

“Are you seeing anyone?” he asks.

“I was dating one guy for about six months, but he ended up being a dud,” I say. “But that was like, a year ago.” I look at him curiously. “What about you?”

“You know how I feel about commitment,” he teases.

“I get it,” I say with a sigh. “I gave up on dating. Guys in my generation are the worst.”

“Aw, don’t give up,” he says. “You have to make me an uncle one day.”

“You have a whole ass brother,” I remind him.

Mav rolls his eyes. “Yeah, like that’s going to happen anytime soon,” he says. “He’s married to his job. And I’m pretty sure Everett hasn’t been with anyone since Lindsey.”

“He’ll meet someone else,” I say. “He just needs to remove the stick from his ass first.”

Mav cracks up. “I don’t know,” he says. “I think it’s in there pretty good.”

After a laughing fit and another round of mimosas, we move the subject around to our dad. “He wants us to appear to be a happy family,” I say with air quotes.

“Not surprising,” Mav says. “People noticed that we kind of fell apart after Mom died. If people think he can’t manage his family, they’ll think he can’t manage the town.”

“I guess that makes sense,” I say.

“It’s really good to see you again, Aly,” Mav says, sounding almost sad.

“You, too, Mav,” I say, wondering what he’s not telling me.