Finding Home #SYTYCW15 #SpecialEdition

Finding Home Part 4

But that girl was long gone. Now she held herself rigidly, like if she moved too fast, she might shatter. He knew she'd been through tough times, but he'd always assumed she'd come through them, that she'd handled them. Seeing her now, he was beginning to wonder if she had really coped with it at all.

Conner thought again of the girl he'd known, the laughing sprite of a girl, dancing around the kitchen to Sweet Home Alabama, a spoon filled with cookie dough in her hand, and he felt a smile tug at his lips. So she hadn't handled things well, but maybe all she needed was a little nudge in the right direction. No matter what bad feelings might be between them now, he still cared for her, cared for the girl who had tried to lighten the constant gloominess that his life had been as a child.

He grabbed the phone book and arranged for a dumpster to be dropped off the next day, before he snagged his car keys off the hook on the wall and headed for the grocery store.

***

Andie slogged up the steps to her back deck and shoved her way into her kitchen. She barely managed to set the multitude of heavy bags from the local craft store down on the kitchen table before her fingers gave out.

Logan jumped back as one of the bags tipped over, spilling colored paper and jars of glitter in a wave that lapped at the edge of his plate of leftover spaghetti. "Jeez, you must have bought out the whole store. You know, you didn't have to carry it all in in one trip."

"Yeah, you would think I wouldn't have to carry such heavy loads, especially since I've got such a nice, strong little brother. Maybe, someone should get off his butt and help his poor, old sister. And I didn't bring them all in. There's another load in the car."

Logan stood up, grumbling under his breath. "Yeah, yeah, fine. Don't touch my spaghetti or you will be in big trouble. There's someone waiting for you in the living room. I called Shawn and he said it was okay to let him in," he called over his shoulder as he slammed out the door.

Andie, who had been reading the back of a box that explained in intricate detail how to make glittered letters, didn't register what Logan was saying until he was already out the door. "What? Who's in the living room?" she asked, but Logan was long gone.

Andie walked down the hall then stumbled to a stop. Conner lay sprawled across the old, brown micro-suede couch, fast asleep. He slept with his head cushioned on the arm he'd bent behind his neck, one leg trailing off the couch, his toes brushing the floor. How many times had she'd found him there, in that exact same position? How many times had she'd sat down at his feet and tickled his toes until he'd woken? If she'd been the fanciful sort, she'd have assumed she'd traveled back in time.

Something shivered deep in her chest, a translucent wisp of the love she'd once felt for him, and it took every ounce of her willpower to keep from sitting down exactly where she used to, to keep her hands to herself.

"Conner. Conner. Conner!" When he still didn't wake, she took a few steps toward him, and gave him a good, sharp poke in the elbow.

"Ouch!" he sat up, a frown on his face that slowly disappeared into a sleepy smile when he saw her.

Andie looked away. She wouldn't, couldn't, let him get to her. Just because he looked like the boy, the friend, she remembered, didn't mean that was who he was now. In fact, she had more then enough evidence to point to the contrary.

"What are you doing here, Conner? I wasn't expecting you until later." She bent over, grabbed the pillows he'd knocked onto the floor and plumped them up before putting them back on the couch. He'd always been a restless sleeper.

Conner unfolded himself from the couch, stretching as he went, then scooped a brown grocery bag off the top of the old, upright piano that stood against the wall. "If we're having visitors over, we have to have snacks. I thought we could make everybody something to eat, you and me. Like the old days."