Miles from Home - Max and Harvey Mills FanFiction

Miles from Home - CH 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

With a brand new light bulb in hand, I'm face-to-face once again with the all-too-familiar barren white door to Mother's house. It's been a couple of years since I've last been here, because we still haven't spoken since I moved out. As I take my key-ring out of my pocket, I wonder if she's changed the locks. Finding my old copy of the house key, I slip it into the deadbolt tumbler and give it a turn. Surprisingly, the key still works.

I open the door and marvel at how unchanged the scene is inside. All white tile flooring, white leather furniture, a ceramic white coffee table, and still no decorations of any sort upon any of the barren white walls—as immaculate and as sterile as it ever was. It looks as if nobody actually lives here, although I know better.

After closing the door behind me, I slip into the dining room. No surprises here, either—still looks the same as that day I bolted out of here, minus the food on the table and Mother at the opposite end, of course. I slowly slide the dimmer switch to the single-bulb floating fixture above the dinner table. After the light turns on, I look for the reason I came down here. After a moment, the bulb flickers, making me wince as my eyelid twitches—I shut it off. The new LED bulb I brought with me is a dimming-capable type, unlike the one that was annoyingly installed. Honestly, I don't know why this still bothers me at all.

After replacing the bulb, I hear a car pull into the driveway. The pounding in my chest rises to my throat knowing that it must be Mother. I was hoping not to have to see her at all—knowing her schedule by heart, she should still be at work for another hour. As I consider going out through the back garden, the front door opens and Mother stares at me from the doorway. With her face as expressionless and cold as ever, she seems—unsurprisingly—not surprised to see me.

"I saw your car out front," she says as she steps inside and closes the door.

"I just fixed your flickering bulb," I say, explaining myself as if she might perhaps care to know what I'm doing here after all these years, unannounced. Predictably, she gives no reaction to either point of the matter, flicking off her heels and setting them at the corner of the vestibule. Already finding her typical silence tiresome, I collect the old bulb from atop the dinner table and walk toward her for the door to excuse myself. "I'll be off now."

"Congratulations," she says as she steps aside from the vestibule, allowing me to pass. "I have heard you have taken on a promotion."

"Thanks." I reach for the doorknob, hoping not to have to talk about anything work-related—I only took the promotion after Jen told me that Max and Harvey decided not to renew their contract with the company. As I open the door, the coolness diffusing through the overcast day washes over me like the depression that inevitably followed after saying goodbye to Max not long after tour finished, nearly a year ago now. In the last and most painful memory I have left, through the post at my work's office, I received the bracelet I'd gifted to him—there was no accompanying note, not even a return address—I've never heard from him again.

"Your father sent me an email through my office some weeks ago," she says before I have the chance to step out the door. I hesitate to leave. Half of me wants to know what he had to say, but the other half of me just wants to bolt—like he did—at the very mention of him. I truly hoped I would never have to hear from him ever again.

"And?" My voice sounds noticeably shaky to my own ears. Parked on the driveway, the rear bumper of Mother's car is mangled and caved in. I turn to face her, raising my brow—judging by the damage, it must have been quite an impact. "Were you in an accident?"