Page 31 of Old Habits

“That might be for the best.” She shifts into a comforting tone. “Jovie was a lot of things. Independent, spontaneous—”

“Infuriating.”

“And smart,” she finishes. “If she doesn’t want to tell you where she’s been, she probably has a good reason for it.”

“I know.” I exhale hard. “It’s not my business but it is my business if the answer to any of those questions is me.”

“Give her time, Will.”

“I gave her time, Mom. I gave her four years.”

“Then, you give her more time. You give her all the time in the world because you’re right — it’s not any of your business. Even if you’re the one who pushed her away in the first place. Even if you’re the one who brought her crawling back here after all this time. It’s not your business until Jovie decides to make it your business and you need to come to terms with the fact that that may never happen.”

The pang in my chest travels through my toes and back. “Damn,” I say. “That’s some tough love, Mom. Thanks a bunch.”

She smiles. “Tough is my favorite kind of love. It always ends in comfort food.” She rises off the bed. “Come on. Your dad doesn’t know that I know where he hides the good Oreos.”

“No, you should get back to work. I’m fine.”

“I’m sure Beverly Trin won’t mind waiting an extra ten minutes on Novocain before I yank her molar out. Now, come on.”

I follow behind her, feeling that note burning a hole in my pocket all the way to the kitchen.

Don’t wait for me.

It was right there on torn paper this whole time.

That night, Jovie packed a bag. She got in her car to leave town but she stopped by my parents’ house first. Usually, her notes would be perfectly slid into place between the window and the sill, trapped there so nothing could accidentally pull it out. This one was tossed inside.

She was in a hurry.

What the hell were you running from, Jovie?