Page 17 of Somewhere Only We Know (Healing in Cincy #4)

NATE

COLLEGE, SUMMER BEFORE SENIOR YEAR

Me: You must really miss me.

Bee: You have no idea.

Me: I miss you too.

A s fun as these two weeks have been, I am so ready to get back to Jax.

I’ve seen my high school friends, went to a baseball game, conditioned with my old coach for three days straight, and played chauffeur for my little sister.

But I’m ready to spend possibly my last free summer with the girl I’m falling head over heels for.

My feelings for Jax aren't a surprise to me. I’ve known I more than liked her since that first kiss.

But the feeling of love didn’t slam into me until recently.

Jax on the other hand, I think she’s there too.

I see it in the lingering glances and the touches that grasp before slowly falling away.

I’m flipping through the pictures she’s sent of some drawings she’s completed and of butterflies and bees circulating her balcony when I hear my dad having a coughing fit. It doesn’t end and I heave myself off the kitchen chair and go in search of him.

“Dad, are you okay?” I ask as I find him in his office.

He waves me away as he attempts to catch his breath. “I’m fine, Nathan. Just choked on my own spit.”

“Do you want some water?”

He shakes his head and sits back in his chair.

The hinges squeak as he tests its movement.

But it’s the one consistent thing he’s always done.

Every day when he’d get home from work, he would journey to the office and clock in for a few more loose ends he was unable to tie up at work.

And every day, whether I’d just be getting home from practice or as I sat at the kitchen table doing homework, those hinges squeaking became an essential soundtrack in this home.

Listening to my dad, I shake off my concern and turn to head back out to the living room, but he stops me.

“How’s Jax?”

We’ve never talked about girls. Mainly because I’ve never dated anyone worth introducing to my parents.

And throughout high school, mainly my junior and senior years, I was at parties most weekends while they were raising my baby sister.

I lost my virginity in the bathroom at a house party and kind of went from there with girls.

Until I met Jax and stopped looking at other girls altogether.

But this–having a girl I’m madly obsessed with occupying large spaces of my brain, is new. And this. Talking about girls with my dad is new.

I backtrack my steps and take a seat on the gaudy printed loveseat to talk with my dad. “She’s good. Ready for me to come back up there. ”

“I’m surprised she didn’t join you.”

I snort as I remember her not-so-subtle hints about joining me. “She wanted to, but didn’t push. I figure next year I’ll drag her down here.”

“Next year, huh?” My dad asks and his dark brown, almost black, bushy eyebrows fly to his hairline.

“She said the same thing.”

“Well, if anyone can make a relationship last, it’s you. You’ve been obsessing–”

“I haven’t been obsessing,” I cut him off with a smile.

He chuckles and continues, “as I was saying, you’ve been obsessing over her for three years. You think your mother and I didn’t notice every time you name dropped her?”

I lean back on the couch and scowl at my dad. “I didn’t name drop her that much.”

“The lies our son tells,” I hear from my mom as she floats into the office and kisses my dad on the lips. She takes a seat in her matching office chair and slips her heels off. “Jax this, Jax that…we thought you would come down here with a ring on your finger.”

I open my mouth to sass them, but stop when they let go of the laughter they were holding.

Crossing my arms, I wait for them to stop.

This is what I’ve been surrounded with for twenty-two years.

Love and laughter have been the pillars of the Holloway household.

It’s how I want my future household to look.

My dad’s coughing fit returns and my mom sobers up, rubbing her hand down his back until he calms back down.

In this moment, I don’t miss the tension that lines her face.

My mom told me that kids don’t need to worry about grown-up things until they’re older.

But now that I’m older I feel it’s in my nature to know if something is happening.

Especially with my parents. Because whether I’m a child, an adult, living at home, away at college, or married with kids, I’ll always worry about my parents.

Worrying about living a life without them in it, is something I find myself severely unprepared for.

“Dad, are you sure you’re okay?” I ask again.

“I’m fine, Nate,” he rasps and clears his throat. “When you get older you’ll find it’s easier to lose your voice after laughing.”

“Okay,” I say skeptically.

I watch my parents interact. How my mom hovers over my dad with worry covering every surface of her face and his nonchalance to his second coughing fit.

The truth is that we like to believe that our parents are invincible. That they’ll live with us until it’s time for us to pass together. But the startling realization that your parents are getting older and you can’t do anything other than helplessly watch is something that nobody prepares you for.

My mom meets my worried stare and gives me a reassuring smile.

Knowing I can’t do anything, I wordlessly get up from the sofa and head back out to the kitchen.

Something is wrong, but knowing my parents they’ll brush off my concern.

Maybe they’re right and I’m just overthinking.

But something is gnawing at me that they’re lying.

“Hey, Nate?” My little sister Kayla asks from the couch.

I turn and face her. “Yeah, munchkin?”

“Can we go get ice cream?”

Shaking my head with a smile, because since I’ve been home, we’ve had ice cream just about every day. Sometimes twice. I’m not complaining though because it’s been hot at the beach and the small businesses make some of the best ice cream .

I walk to the bowl that holds the car keys and find mine. “Let’s go.”

Kayla scrambles off the couch and runs to get her shoes on. I pop my head back into the office and see my parents with their heads together having what looks like an intense conversation. They didn’t notice me so I back out and knock on the wall to alert them.

“Hey, I’m taking Kayla out for dinner and then ice cream.” I tell them as I pop my head back in.

My mom looks at me with clouded eyes and a bright smile. A dichotomy if I ever saw one. “Okay, sweetheart.”

Again, I ignore the weird feeling I’m getting from them and head out to the car.

Kayla hops in the backseat and I wait to hear the seatbelt click before pulling off.

I drive the familiar path to the diner I loved coming to as a kid.

It’s nothing too special, but it’s cheap and, next to fair food and baseball stadium food, they have the best hot dogs.

Thinking back to when I left Jax, I could have brought her with me.

I should have brought her with me. My friends hounded me about my girlfriend and it would’ve been a good opportunity for her to blend in with my family.

But in order for us to work, we need time apart.

And let’s be real, this will prepare us for next year.

Finding a parking spot, I get out and open Kayla’s door. She grabs my hand as we cross the busy path and shuffle inside. The cooks instruct us to find an empty table and Kayla picks one right in the middle.

“What are you getting?” I ask.

“Mmmm, maybe a hotdog and fries.”

“Sounds like a plan,” I tell her and when the waitress comes over I do just that.

I listen to my sister talk about whatever it is eleven year olds are into these days and I listen intently.

She carries our conversation and for that I’m thankful because I can’t seem to find anything to say without wanting to scream that something’s wrong.

I’ve never been a suspicious person. But even I can’t ignore how, whatever is happening with my parents, is bigger than they want to let on.