Stockholm

Chapter 22

I barely made it through customs, final boarding for my flight being called out over the PA system.  And as I dart through herds of people milling about, wasting time before their flights, I call Lorna.

"Answer." I beg her ringing phone. "Please."

I wouldn't say we parted on the best of terms. She wanted me to stay, for us to talk, to find a certain understanding. And I want that too, I want her, but I had to leave.

So I did.

Her phone clicks on with the automated script to leave a message after the tone and I let out a defeated sigh. As soon as it beeps though I'm talking.

"Lorna, please. I'm sorry. I have to do this but I promise when I get back, I'll do whatever you want. We can talk for hours if you want, ask me anything." I don't really know what I'm saying, I'm just hoping I stumble across the right thing. The thing she wants to hear from me. "I'm sorry. I didn't...I didn't mean to shut you out. That wasn't what I was trying to do."

I can see my gate up ahead, a short line waiting to have their passes checked before they get on.

"I'm about to get on the plane. I love you Lorna. Please call me."

I'm forced to hang up, pulling up my boarding pass as I step up to the counter. The woman smiles at me, glancing at my lack of possessions before she says "have a safe flight".

Following the person in front of me, I walk down the tunnel to the plane, squeezing past the flight attendant who greets everyone.

I've got a middle seat, toward the back, squeezed between an oversized man and a teenage girl. I tug the thin jacket I threw on off, the picture of Chloe and the envelope in its pockets. Thank god it's not a long flight.

"Excuse me." I give the oversized man a defeated smile, watching as he tries to squeeze himself smaller so I can step over and into my seat.

I mumble out an apology as I stumble over him, catching myself on the arm rest. The teen girl leans farther toward the window and as I settle myself into my chair I make a point to not claim the arm rest.

Middle seats suck.

The last few stragglers shove carry ons in the cargo holds above our heads before the flight attendants start making their way through cabins, checking overhead bins and seatbelts. I check my phone, even though it hasn't made a sound. A desperate hope for a call or voicemail or text to have been left without me noticing, but there's nothing.

Guilt rushes through me. Tipping my head back, I let my eyes close as I sit rigid in my seat. Exhaustion pulls at my fibers but I doubt I'll be lucky enough to fall asleep. My mind is already trying to figure out how I'm going to convince Lorna that me not telling her anything doesn't mean I don't trust her. It wasn't intentional.

The oversized man bumps my arm as he claims the arm rest, his knee pushing into my own. And I buckle in for an uncomfortable flight.

———————

I was right, I never managed to drift off even though I spent the entire flight trying. Instead I mentally played through every detail from the moment I realized Lorna's car was at my house. The way she didn't greet me, she barely even acknowledged me, going straight to my mother's side. How she was graceful and kind and patient as she helped my mom into the house. And how I had clearly messed up.

As soon as the plane comes to a stop, I turn my phone back on, staring at the screen as the bars fill and I wait for anything from Lorna. Instead a text pops up from Wyatt letting me know he checked on my mom and that he wasn't sorry.

I guess I don't blame him. Though he could have picked a better time to blow my relationship apart.

We all filter out from the terminal, everyone but me with carry ons and backpacks, scuttling off toward the baggage claim. I slip back into my jacket, making sure the contents are still zipped in the pocket. The sun beats through the glass windows, making the airport feel less depressing than airports often seem and I follow the signs to the rentals.

Even though Lorna hasn't answered me, I send her a text. Let her know I landed. I send one to Wyatt too but only because he'll yell at me if I don't.

It's creeping toward 4:30 before I have the keys to the rental and I'm making my way away from Nashville. My phone is still silent besides Wyatt's parenting messages. He wants updates. And while I drive my thoughts drift between Lorna and what waits for me at the diner.

I don't know if I'll find anything. I don't know why the diner's address is the return address on the envelope. I don't know if Sean and Kathyrn are still there, maybe they made another hasty exit. I have no idea if Chloe will be there. And I have no idea what I'll do if they are there. If I do see Sean and Kathryn, what will I say? If Chloe's there how will I tell her?

It sounds unbelievable when I run through various conversations in my head. Will she even remember? I definitely don't look like the older brother she knew and I know she's not going to look the same as the toddler covered in chocolate but at least I've had a photograph to study, I have the memories. I can only imagine Sean and Kathryn didn't tell her she has a family other than them.

That alone makes me sick to my stomach.

All the things my family went through at the cost of them.

All the things we'll never have.

That we can't change.

Dad.