CHAPTER 6: THE LONG WAY HOME
Mason sat across from Owen at the kitchen table.
Maisie was in the living room, lining up stuffed animals along the couch.
“Why would you have to leave?” Mason asked.
“The court is done.”
“That doesn’t change anything.”
“You said we were staying until the judge decided.”
“The judge decided you’re safe with me.”
“For how long?”
Mason understood then.
Owen did not believe in permanent things.
Meals ended.
Doors locked.
Adults disappeared.
Promises changed when they became inconvenient.
“For as long as you want this to be home,” Mason said.
Owen looked down.
“What if you get married?”
“Then she has to understand you come with me.”
“What if you have a baby?”
“Then the baby gets an older brother and sister.”
“What if I’m bad?”
“You’ll have consequences. You will not lose your family.”
Owen’s mouth trembled.
“Dana said Dad died because I made too much noise.”
Mason stopped breathing.
“She said his heart got tired because I cried.”
Mason moved around the table and knelt beside him.
“That was a lie.”
“I cried the morning he died.”
“Children cry.”
“He told me to stop because his chest hurt.”
“That does not mean you caused it.”
“He went to the hospital after.”
“Owen.”
Mason placed both hands gently on the boy’s shoulders.
“Your father had a heart condition. You did not cause it. You could not have stopped it. His death was not your fault.”
Owen’s face folded.
Mason pulled him close.
The boy did not sob loudly.
He rarely did.
He simply collapsed against Mason as though a support beam inside him had finally given way.
Maisie came from the living room.
She climbed onto Mason’s back and wrapped her arms around both of them.
They remained on the kitchen floor until the room grew dark.
The months that followed were not easy.
Owen began physical therapy.
He hated asking for assistance.
Whenever he stumbled, anger flashed across his face.
“I can do it.”
“I know,” Mason would say. “You don’t have to do it alone.”
Maisie started preschool.
On the first day, she screamed when Mason tried to leave.
He stayed in the hallway for three hours.
On the second day, he stayed for two.
By the third week, Maisie walked into the classroom holding her teacher’s hand.
She still looked back seven times.
Mason waved every time.
Owen began sleeping through the night.
Then a thunderstorm arrived.
The power failed shortly after midnight.
Mason woke to Maisie crying.
He reached Owen’s bed.
It was empty.
The crutches were gone.
The front door stood open.
Mason ran into the rain without shoes.
“Owen!”
Lightning cut across the sky.
He searched the yard.
The sidewalk.
The street.
Then he saw a small figure beneath the porch light, which had switched to battery backup.
Owen sat in Caleb’s old chair with a flashlight across his knees.
“What are you doing out here?” Mason asked.
Owen stared into the storm.
“Keeping the light on.”
“For whom?”
Owen shrugged.
“In case somebody needs the house.”
Mason sat beside him.
“You scared me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize for being scared. Apologize for going outside without telling me.”
“I’m sorry for going outside.”
“Accepted.”
They watched the rain.
After a while, Owen spoke.
“Did Dad sit here?”
“All the time.”
“Was he brave?”
“Sometimes.”
“Was he scared?”
“More often than he admitted.”
Owen considered that.
“Can you be both?”
“Yes.”
Another flash illuminated the harbor.
Owen looked at Mason.
“Am I still brave if I’m scared of the dark?”
“Especially then.”
The boy leaned against his shoulder.
Mason wrapped an arm around him.
Inside the house, Maisie called their names.
“We should go in,” Mason said.
Owen stood carefully.
Before entering, he checked the porch light.
“It’ll stay on?”
“All night.”
“What about tomorrow?”
May you like
Mason opened the door.
“Tomorrow too.”
