Going Home
Kenna
Since I have plenty of vacation and sick time built up, I send an email to work for emergency time off. There is no way I can face Chad right now, anyway.
The bar didn’t close until three a.m., and sleep isn’t coming.
Knowing Jake and I are at a breaking point, I can’t take being in our home, so I pack my car and leave a note for Jake in case he comes home looking for me. Then I head to my parents’ house at five in the morning, stopping at a convenience store for an energy drink before getting on the road for a long drive home. Going back to the comforts of my childhood home will provide the clarity I need.
Pulling in, my mom greets me at the door, giving me a firm look.
“Hey, baby girl. Where’s Jake?” she asks, hugging me.
“Long story, Mom. Can we talk later? I’m exhausted and want to rest.”
Sensing something is wrong, she gives me my space, welcoming me into my childhood home. Even though it’s my space, it’s still full of memories of Jake, pictures of us together throughout the home.
***
Jake
With my mind racing, sleep never comes, not that I expected it to. Not wanting to intrude further on Harrison and Sophia, I leave just before six a.m. I still can’t manage to go home, though.
Driving around, I find myself sitting in the driveway of my grandfather’s house, staring at the small house for the longest time. It’s been too long since the last I came by here. I avoid it since finding out my mom settled here.
As I’m preparing to pull away, I see my mom standing in the doorway, and mixed emotions blaze through me. With my windows rolled down in my old pick-up truck, I’m caught off guard when she rushes outside.
“Jake, is that you?” she asks, looking sloppy in old sweats and an oversized T-shirt.
“Yeah,” I reply, unsure where this is leading.
“Well, come on in.” She gestures for me to do so.
For a moment, I contemplate driving off. However, it’s time for me to face my past. Deciding this, I go inside.
If I’m going to move beyond any of this, I need to talk to the woman who started me on this path.
She sets a coffee cup in front of me. With her hair graying and wrinkles evident, my once youthful mother is looking tired and stressed.
We sit in silence at the kitchen table for a while before she asks, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, Mom.”
We never had the kind of relationship where we talk about anything, much less something as serious as my future with Kenna. Therefore, I’m reluctant to open up, yet part of me wants to know what my mom feels about marriage after all these years.
“It has to be something for you to come back to this house.”
I sigh in defeat, giving in. “Kenna and I are at a crossroad. I just need some clarity. Why are you here? Why come back and settle here?”
“I’m trying to grow the hell up. I know it’s a little late in life.” She sets her coffee down and turns her whole body in my direction. “First, I owe you an apology for being so selfish for all these years. As for you and Kenna, you’re married, son, and you love each other. You two can work through anything together if you both try.”
“No, Mom, we’re not married, and that’s the problem.”
“I’m sorry I assumed. As long as you two have been together, why are you not married, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Marriage doesn’t last. You know that firsthand.”
“Oh, Jake, you are so wrong.” She shakes her head. “It does work when you marry for the right reasons. I did it for the wrong ones over and over again. I’m sorry you had to deal with the consequences of my immaturity and selfishness. What you and Kenna have is real, Jake. It’s the kind of love that goes beyond time here on earth. You found unconditional love. Don’t let that get away.”
While she starts crying, I’m left speechless. I never expected to have such a candid conversation with my mother today … or ever, honestly.
“I went into most of my marriages planning our divorce. I don’t know how to be alone. I never married for love. It’s always been about security—finding financial security, having security in my beauty, security in someone taking care of me. It’s never been for love. Kenna loves you, and you love her. That, son, is the reason to get married.”
“Do you really think we would make it? I don’t want to risk messing up what we have that’s good. After everything, you still believe in marriage for love?”
“Yes, Jake, I do.”
We spend the next four hours talking about everything, and for the first time that I can remember, I feel connected to my mom. It seems like she really is trying to grow up.
I feel like maybe I had a wall built too high for too long between Kenna and I about this whole marriage thing.
I leave my grandpa’s house with more clarity for my future than I have had in years.