Page 95 of Feels Like Home

I scoff. Roll my eyes. “Oh.Okay.”

They won’t leave me. They’re Daddy’s boys. Even at fourteen years old they still want to spend time with me. I’ll homeschool college if I have to. I’ll figure that shitout.

“Okay? Okay! Andy! They’re going togo awayfor college! Away from us! Soon, they’re all going to begone.”

She bursts out laughing when I stand and pace around the room. “They’re not going to leave us.” I shrug like it’s settled. No big deal. “I’ll lock their bedroom doors. From theoutside.”

“No, you won’t. They’ll be like Bri. Just itching to get away from us, too. And they’ll never comeback.”

“Hey! No need to be somean!”

“Oh, I’m the meanone?”

I realize that we’ve gone from her wearing the crazy pants to both of us hopping on that train and I need to derail usquickly.

“Come on,” I tell her and reach my hand out to her. She takes it andsqueezes

I walk us down the hall into Bri’s bedroom. The door is open, so I figure it’s safe to go in. I point to her bedside table at the picture sitting there. The framed photo is a collage that Bri made of her and Christine for Mother’s Day but wanted one for herself so made a secondcopy.

“Who does she keep next to her bed? The first person she sees everymorning?”

Christine nods, smiling as her fingertip trails over theirfaces.

Then I walk over to the mirror above her dresser, where she has several pictures hung up around the outside edge. Pictures of her and Grady, more of her and Christine, some of her friends, a few of Todd.Then…

“When did she takethese?”

In several frames on top of her dresser are selfies of Bri with the boys, one of me standing behind Christine with my arms wrapped around her middle. One of Grady with the boys. And one of the five of us sitting around the fire at the cabin, Christine on my lap, the boys sitting on the ground in front of us with sticks over the fire roasting marshmallows, and Bri standing behind the chair we’re sitting in, her elbows resting on the back, my face upturned to her, a smile on all ourfaces.

“At the cabin. Grady took them, I guess. Bri didn’t even know he did it until they were on their way home the next day and he handed her hisphone.”

“These are…” I can’t even finish the sentence. They’re great seems inadequate. They’re everything soundscheesy.

“I know,” she says. “Now you see? She’s not allowed toleave.”

I glance around her room at the boxes and suitcases she has stacked andready.

“Think she’ll be pissed if we unpack thesequick?”

A laugh bubbles out of her, and she leans in, hugging metightly.

I kiss the top of her head andsigh.

I didn’t realize how quickly I’d grown attached to Bri. It started out slowly, and now I feel like we haven’t had enough time. When she visited us at the cabin, it was kind of a turning point. A vision of what our family couldbe.

And over the summer, we’ve made a lot of memories. Fishing with the boys, a few more trips to the cabin, bonfires in our backyard.

In general, we just had a greatsummer.

But now she’sleaving.

Which is why we’re supposed to be at my place right now, enjoying one of the last nights at home withher.

“Let’s go make a few more memories,” I tell her, squeezing her close tome.

She nods once, lifts up on her tiptoes, and kisses me on the chin then on the mouth. I take it and deepen the kiss. We don’t make it to family movie night at home like weplanned.

But we do make a few memories of ourown.

---