We arrived at noon on Friday, and we ate a big family dinner at Daniel and Courtney's house that evening. Courtney wasn't much of a chef, so Liam's mom and aunt took care of the menu, which was extremely delicious southern soul food. They served fried chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy, and green beans with pieces of ham in it. I hadn't eaten food like that since I was a child.
We brought Vera and Victor with us to dinner, and, as a pair, they were a huge hit with everyone. His family thought it was amazing that Victor's name happened to start with a V, but neither of us let them in on the secret of our little switch. We just smiled at each other every time someone would mention it.
Liam and I got on the road at 8 o'clock the following morning, headed west toward Brookdale, Arkansas. It was a trip I knew I needed to take, even if I didn't end up seeing or talking to any of my family. I did not contact them beforehand because I wanted to give myself the freedom to chicken-out if it came to it.
Liam was completely supportive and never pressured me into anything. I told him I just wanted to drive to Brookdale and see my old house, and he agreed to it with no hesitation whatsoever.
I knew the trip would take us about three hours, so we left Memphis early that Saturday morning in hopes to be there before noon. I got more and more nervous as we drew closer. By the time we got to Hot Springs, my palms were sweating, and all I could do was stare out the window and think of my past decisions and all of the unknown that lie in front of me. Liam could see that I was introspective, so rather than try to talk to me, he just reached over and held my hand.
I didn't need a map to tell me how to get to my old house. I remembered it clearly. Everything in my old town seemed similar yet different than I remembered, and I stared at houses, marveling at how tiny everything was compared to my memory.
It was a strange feeling, driving through my old neighborhood. There was a random brick platform that we used to climb onto, and I smiled when we drove past it, imagining myself and my grade-school friends climbing up there to wave at passing cars.
Liam knew we were approaching my old house, and he drove slowly, allowing me to take it all in. I was on the very verge of crying. I experienced a mix of emotions as I filtered through memories. Fear, doubt, and dread were at the forefront.
When I was young, it seemed as though we lived way out in the country in the middle of nowhere with no neighbors in sight, but now I could see that the neighbors were no more than fifty yards away.
My eyes fell onto the house where I had grown up. It was a red brick ranch style house. It looked the same as it always had yet it seemed somehow unfamiliar to me. My gut clinched as I stared at it.
"Just keep driving," I said as I gazed out the window. There were three cars parked in the driveway, none of which I recognized.
"Don't you want to stop?" he asked.
"Not really. Not now."
I was afraid of what I'd find if we stopped. I was scared of my family being there and I was scared of them not being there.
Liam didn't argue. He kept on driving slowly down the road until we came to an intersection.
"Where to?" he asked when we came to a stop.
"I don't know," I said. "I mean, I feel weird not going over there now that we've come all this way, but I'm scared."
He picked up my hand, drawing it to him and holding it next to his face. "If scared is all you are, then we can handle that."
"What's that mean?"
"It means that if you don't want to see them, then we should go back to Memphis, but if it's about being scared, then we can totally handle that."
He smiled at me as he performed a slow U-turn in the middle of the empty intersection.
I stared at him with wide eyes. "Are you seriously going back there?"
"Why not?" He was still gripping my hand, and I held onto him over the console with both of my hands trembling.
"I don't recognize any of those cars," I said. "They might not even live there."
"There's only one way to find out," Liam said.
I had no idea how he was so calm. I gazed out the window as he pulled into the driveway, parking his SUV behind one of the trucks. He turned off the engine and smiled at me.
"I can't do it," I said shakily.
My jaw ached like I had eaten something sour. I was afraid that if I walked up to the door I would physically be unable to talk. I had on jeans and a sweater, and I felt extremely overdressed for the occasion.
"Even if they live here, they're not gonna recognize me."
Liam tilted his head at me like he didn't think that was the truth.
"What if they hate me?" I asked. "What if they yell at me and tell me to leave?"
"Then we'll leave, and at least you've done your part."
Liam got out of the vehicle and headed around to open my door. He liked for me to wait so he could let me out, but I was too nervous this time. I was already standing next to the car by the time he came to my side. I made a face at him like I was mad at him for making me do this, and he smiled and put his arm around me. I was stiff and numb as we walked to the front door.
If I still lived there, I would have gone through the carport and entered through the kitchen door. But it was no longer my house, and as it stood, I found myself standing on the front stoop, feeling like a total stranger.
A plastic Christmas wreath was hanging on the front door. It had ribbons and little foil-wrapped gifts attached to it and looked like it had been purchased at a dollar store. There was so little room between the front door and the glass door that the wreath was smashed between the two. I stared at it, thinking it must've been my mother that bought and hung that thing and feeling all the more nervous at the realization. I was shaken and my face ached with pain of unshed tears. I was literally unable to reach out and ring the doorbell.
We stood there for a couple of seconds before Liam did it. I heard a dog barking and a child begin yelling after he rang it, and I glanced at him, thinking my parents had neither a dog nor a baby when I left.
Liam held my hand. He looked so handsome. I was proud of him and felt like it would have been impossible for me to stand there without his presence by my side. I heard the door handle shake, and I took a deep breath, bracing myself for my mom or dad to answer.
Neither of them did.
It was a man—a young man carrying a small toddler near his chest. I took them in for a second, trying to gather my wits, but the small dog kept incessantly jumping onto the glass door and barking.
"Mom, would you please call Coco?" the man yelled.
I stared at him. My heart was breaking into a thousand pieces. It was my little brother—only he wasn't so little any more. He had become a man and was perhaps now even a father. The boy in his arms was younger than two—still a baby, really. He had his hand in his mouth and was wearing a shirt with a cartoon Santa on it. The dog disappeared when called, allowing the guy to stare straight at me with no distractions.
I was face-to-face with John David.
My brother.
I couldn’t believe it.
I was afraid I wouldn't be able to speak.
He opened the glass door, staring at me curiously and waiting for me to state my business. I could tell by his expression that he thought we were selling something. I was taken aback that he was staring straight at my face and didn't recognize me. I didn't think it'd been that long. He was the older of the two boys, and I thought for sure he would know me when he saw me.
"Hey John David," I said. My voice came out breathlessly. I was desperately shaken.
"Hello," he said, still looking curious.
"It's me. Taylor. Your sister."
His expression fell, and he regarded me for several long seconds with a look of utter disbelief. He stared blankly at me as if a thousand things had crossed his mind at one time and created a traffic jam in his brain. I felt the same way. Every second felt like an eternity as I waited for him to say something. Anything.
"Seriously?" he ask
ed, finally.
I nodded, tears filling my eyes.
"Taylor?" he asked, staring deeply into my eyes as if he might find the old me in there somewhere if he looked hard enough.
I reached out and put my hand on his forearm. "It's me. I promise."
"Does mom know you're here?" he asked in an accent that seemed more southern than I remembered. "Does she know you're coming here?"
I shook my head.
He glanced at Liam who let go of my hand long enough to shake John David's hand.
"This is Liam," I said. "My boyfriend."
I had never called him that out loud before, but I was already so swept away with other emotions that it was hard to appreciate it.
"I won don," the baby said, squirming.
I couldn't quite understand him, but John David took the cue, and set the boy to his feet before standing to look at me again.
"Is that your son?" I asked.
He nodded, still staring at me like I was a figment of his imagination.
"He's really adorable," I said. "I can't believe you’re a dad."
"He's our youngest," John David said. "We've got a three-year-old girl. She's my stepdaughter. Chelsea had her before we got married." He paused and continued to stare blankly at me. "I'm sorry. I just can't believe you're standing here. Are you coming in?"
I let out a nervous giggle, wondering if that was an invitation. "Are Mom and Dad home?" I asked.
"Yeah, they're right in here. Me and Jonah just came by to borrow some tape. Chelsea's wrapping presents and she ran out."
"Do you live around here?" I asked.
He nodded. "Right over on Live Oak."
I awkwardly stared at my brother as he stepped back, holding the door open to let us in. I wanted to reach out and hug him, but he was so shocked to see me that I didn't quite know how to do it. I held onto Liam's hand as we stepped into the house, but I let it go as soon as we came inside.
My brother and Liam both stood behind me as I took in the scene. It was still the same—a small living room that was attached to the kitchen. The carpet and paneling were both dark and dated. It certainly wasn't the nicest or newest house, but it still felt like home. My heart was beating like crazy as I scanned the room. I could see my father's feet from his place in his recliner, and I watched as the little boy toddled into the kitchen.
My mom came around the corner, making a silly face at the boy. She straightened and looked our way when she saw that there were extra people standing in the doorway. She gave us a curious glance. She was skinnier and older, and her hair was short instead of long, but she was my mother, there was no doubt about it.
"Who'd you invite in?" she asked, talking to my brother while squinting at us. I knew she couldn’t see far off without wearing glasses, and she had always refused to wear them. I remembered her squinting that same way years ago—her face didn't move, it was just her eyes that narrowed as she tried to focus.
"It's Taylor," John David said in a matter-of-fact tone.
"Who?" she asked, running her hand through her hair like she hadn't been expecting guests.
My dad put his feet down with a thud, rocking in the recliner as he turned to see what was going on.
Both of them were looking at me, and I swallowed hard. "Taylor," I said. "Your daughter."
Chapter 18
My voice came out little more than a whisper, and given the fact that the dog was barking his head off in the other room and the baby was babbling, neither of my parents heard me.
"Pardon?" my mom said, heading toward us with a smile like perhaps she also thought we were selling something.
I cleared my throat. "Your daughter," I repeated. "Taylor Marie Luttrell."
My mother continued to walk toward me, and in spite of the barking dog, and the babbling toddler, all I could see was her face—the shift in her expression as she realized what I said. She studied me as she slowly approached. In my periphery, I saw my dad get to his feet, but I remained focused on my mom. She had aged significantly. Her face was thin and her skin wrinkled, but her blue eyes were the same. They locked with mine, and for a second, it was like looking at my own reflection. She came to stand a few feet in front of me.
"Taylor?" she asked in a dazed tone.
I nodded. I wanted to reach out to her, but I had no idea what she was thinking or how she would react, so I just stood there. I lifted my palms, basically saying I didn't know what else to say or do.
"Is it really you?" she asked, still looking like she'd seen a ghost.
I nodded. "Yes, it's me," I said.
My mother's face crumpled, and she began weeping. She covered her face with one hand as she reached out with the other to touch me. I was already on the verge of crying anyway, so seeing her break down, set loose my tears. She held onto my shoulder and cried for a few seconds before pulling back to stare at my face. Her fist was still in front of her contorted face, and she stared directly at me, placing her other hand on my cheek and regarding me like it couldn't possibly be true.
I smiled through the tears and wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, feeling so relieved that she was happy to see me.
"Daddy, do you see who it is?" she asked in a high-pitched tone, turning to face my father.
"I recon I do," my dad said, walking toward us. "Taylor?"
"Yes sir."
I thought he might come up to me, but he stopped a few feet away, scanning me from head to toe.
"Where've you been?" John David asked. I glanced at him to find that he was holding his son. My mom clapped her hands, asking Jonah if he wanted to go see her, and the boy leaned and reached for her.
"I live in Los Angeles," I said. "I was in London for a long time, but now I'm back in the states. I'm visiting Liam's family in Tennessee, so we figured we'd drive over here and, uh, you know, see if you guys were home." I was nervous, and my voice came out sounding lower than usual.
"You talk different," John David said. I thought he was pointing out my breathlessness, but he added, "Your accent's different."
I hadn't meant to change or lose my accent since I'd been away, but I knew I must have sounded different than I used to because theirs sounded thicker to me. I smiled at John David. He and my father seemed a little more reluctant about my appearance then my mother did. "I'm surprised I don't have a British accent after being in London for so long," I said, trying to make him smile.
"What'd you do in London?" my dad asked.
"Come in," my mom said before I had the chance to answer. "Y'all come sit down."
"I really have to go," John David said. "Chelsea's waiting on this tape. We've got her family's Christmas party in a little while."
"Oh, well maybe you can bring Chelsea and Molly by to meet your sister." Mom handed Jonah back to my brother, and he turned to look at me.
"I'm not sure how long they'll be here," John David said.
"Can't you stay a while?" my mom asked.
I glanced at Liam. "Maybe an hour or so," I said. Liam gave me a smile that I knew meant it was completely up to me.
"I'll see if we can," John David said. "She's got some cookin' to do before we go over there."
"It's okay if you can't make it back," I said. "I know I didn't give you guys any warning that I was coming. I'm just happy I got to see you." I gave my brother a regretful smile, looking him straight in the eyes. "It was good to see you, John David. I'm really glad you were here. Your son is adorable."
He stared straight at me, and I had no idea what he would say. "I guess maybe you won't be such a stranger next time," he said. His expression was serious but I knew my brother and I could tell he was teasing me.
I smiled. "Maybe I won't," I said. "Maybe I'll stay for dinner next time."
We shared a moment of awkwardness as he went to step around me, and I almost let him walk right by, but I decided to reach out and hug him. He wasn't quite as big as Liam, but he had turned into a man while I was away, and it was a bit surreal. He hugged me back, patting
me.
"I guess you went and made a big success of yourself," he said.
"I guess so," I said. I smiled and touched the side of his son's cheek with my finger. "I guess you did too," I added.
"John David's managing the Big Lots," Mom said proudly.
"Manager," I said in an impressed tone. "Pretty young for such a title."
He smiled and shrugged. "Shift leader."
"Still," I said. "Good job."
He looked like he might say something more but then he hesitated and sighed. "Well, we better be going," he said. "Maybe I'll call and see if you're still here when we're on our way to Chelsea's parents'. Maybe we can stop by if you are."
"I'd like that," I said.
John David waved at my parents and thanked them for the tape, and just like that, he and Jonah were gone.
My mother was as nervous to see me as I was to see her. She insisted that we all go into the living room and sit down, but then as soon as we got there, she proceeded to get up and make a pot of coffee. The dog was continually barking from the kitchen, and she let it out when she went in there. It was slightly awkward sitting in the living room with my father who was a quiet person, so the arrival of an excited dog was a welcome distraction.
Coco ran up to Liam and me, sniffing us like crazy. We made small talk with my father about what kind of breed she was and where they had gotten her. Within minutes, Mom came back into the living room with a tray containing four mugs of coffee, a pint-size cardboard container of cream, and a bowl of sugar with a spoon in it. She pointed to the pink and blue packets that were scattered on the bottom of the tray and told us she and Dad used sugar but that she liked to take sweeteners from restaurants and have them around in case they had guests.
Liam and I both took a mug of coffee and sat back with it. We were on the couch, and Dad was in his recliner, so Mom took a dining room chair and pulled it into the living room with us. We offered to make room for her on the couch, but she insisted that she would rather sit in the chair so that she could look at us. She was still really nervous, and she kept adjusting her seating position and folding her legs one way and then the other.
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