Page 35 of All I Have Left

“No!” I cover my head with the pillow. “I’m not going anywhere tonight.”

Shaking the bed, he laughs. “Don’t make me send Frankie in here. Your sister will never leave you alone if you don’t get dressed. She said to give you ten minutes and then she is coming up.”

Removing the pillow, I lift my head. “Seriously?”

He smiles, wide and cheesy. “Yep.” He stands and pushes away from the bed. “Just be glad she’s not sending Kelly up here.”

Reluctantly, I take a damn shower and get dressed. Again, Frankie sets out clothes for me. And it’s not a bad thing because I have two pairs of jeans and maybe two shirts.

After I’m dressed, I make my way down the hall, my previous mood diminishing slightly when I notice my mom is in the kitchen waiting. She wasn’t around last night so this is really my first time seeing her.

Fuck, my chest immediately tightens and my stomach twists. I haven’t seen her in two years and I have to tell you, I’m a mama’s boy. I smile and draw her into a hug.

Naturally, she sags into me and starts sobbing. “I missed you, baby.” I hold on, chuckling over the burn in the back of my throat. My dad stands to her right, smiling. I’m not sure if he told my mom what happened in Iraq. I’m assuming he did because why wouldn’t he, right? Part of me is bothered by the fact that she knows, but nothing compares to what I actually went through.

“I missed you, too.” I hold tighter. I can’t imagine how hard this had been on her.

Soft laughter rolls through her as she draws back to look at my face. “Are you home for good, honey?” Lifting her hand, she sweeps it along her cheek, catching the tears falling.

“Yeah, I am.” I look away from her. It hurts that I’ve had to keep so much from them. I mean, I’m sure they know more than they’ve let on, but it’s not like I want to talk about it with anyone.

Much like Frankie, my mom has a tendency to grab my face and squish my cheeks together like I’m five again. “Have you spoken with her?”

I know exactly who she’s talking about. For months after I left, Mom begged me to call Evie and talk to her. “She’s… with someone,” I whisper, trying to get my face out of her hands.

Look at her face. She doesn’t believe me. Not one bit. “Grayson, sweetie, you could have waited twenty years to return and that girl’s heart would still belong to you. A mother knows these things. She loves you, always has,” she insists, and when I try to look away, she forces me to keep looking at her. I dart my eyes to my dad, but he’s smiling. “Do you remember when you were seven and you had that pretend wedding?”

I nod, rolling my eyes. “We were seven.”

She’s not having it. “Boy, I don’t care how old you were. That girl, she’s the same Evie she was back then, still in love with my son. I assure you of that.”

I’m not so sure of that. “I just—”

She cuts me off before I can continue to make any excuses.

“Grayson Wyatt Gomez,” she scolds, giving her best “don’t talk back to your mother” face. I know that face pretty well. Been given it a few times over the years. “Evie loves you and that’s all that matters. And the boy I raised, he’d make her see it.”

We exchange a look. One that I beg her to let it go, knowing she won’t. Drawing back, she sighs and smooths out her dress. “Well, you kids have fun. Don’t make plans for next Sunday though.” She moves toward Dad where he wraps his arm around her shoulders. “Aiden will be in town and your aunt and uncle want to have everyone over.” Her eyes move to Frankie, who’s standing next to me. “Make sure Evie and Kathy come. I can’t wait to have all the kids back together finally.”

Dad smiles, his hand on my shoulder. “It’s good to have you home, buddy.” And he leaves it at that. The last time my dad saw me, I was in a hospital in Balad. I don’t remember him being there but when I came around, they said he was.

They move from the entry way to the family room and I notice Frankie and Ethan leaving. I think about bailing. Maybe they won’t notice, but something in me makes me walk out to the driveway and get into my truck. Maybe it’s her, maybe it’s what my mom said, but either way, I’m going to make the effort.With any luck, I can avoid Shane. Getting in a fight with him won’t be good. Not for Evie, and certainly not for me.

As soon as I arrive at The Point, I have a bottle in hand thinking it will hold the answer. It could work, right? Either that or it’s going to go horribly bad. Stay tuned.

The first person I notice is Shane and Evie. Not really, I may have positioned myself in their line of sight, but I’m not about to admit that. I watch them from a distance, pretending to be interested in Josh’s recount of the night we fell through the roof of this bar (it’s not worth retelling, but he does it often), but I miss most of what he’s telling the blonde who is next to me. I don’t even know who she is, bartender maybe, but I have no interest in anything around me, aside from the look on Evie’s face.

Something’s wrong with her. It’s in the way she tucks her hair over her left shoulder and the protective arm keeping her close, a menacing expression plastered to his face. One that unnerves me because I know he’s capable of evil.

Goddamn, do I want to kick the shit out of this guy. It’d be so fucking easy to. His arm is around Evie. His dark hair shadows his darker eyes. He has that look about him tonight. The one he always wore so well in high school. Menacing.

I stay at the bar until Ethan finds me and drinking becomes a sport between the two of us. It’s been so long since I drank that Ethan bursts out laughing at the light weight I’ve become.

“I forgot how good it was to have you around,” Ethan says when I spill my shot on the table, and then proceed to knock his onto the ground too.

“Quinten!” I yell dramatically. “We need another round.”

One round turns into three more and Ethan stares at me, his eyes glassy, cheeks red. “I’m going to marry your sister someday. But don’t tell her.”

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