Page 139 of Sunday Morning

“I’m sure you’ll love it.” I tried to infuse enthusiasm into my words.

It was awkward talking about them moving because they had to sell the land to give Isaac his half. And surely, she assumed I knew why Isaac owned half the land.

“What about you?” She dried her hands.

“We’re … I’m …” I fumbled my words. “Nashville. I want to live in Nashville so I can sing.”

Violet’s smile was genuine, unlike mine. She seemed at peace with everything. Perhaps it was an act, and if so, it was a good one. “I know you’ll be a star. And you’ll only be a five-hour drive from us and even less to come back here to visit your parents.” Violet retrieved a cutting board from the drawer and dumped a bowl of potatoes into the sink.

She made it all sound so normal like my friends didn’t die, no one cheated on anyone, and my dad hadn’t kicked me out of his house.

“Yeah,” I murmured.

“Are you staying for dinner? I could invite your family over.”

“No,” I said quickly.

Violet paused, lifting her head.

I folded my hands behind me, pressing my lips together while cringing. “Sorry. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful for the offer, but I don’t think a group dinner should be my first face-to-face encounter with my parents in over six weeks.”

“Of course. When are you heading home? Will you be staying for dinner?”

“Um …”

Isaac opened the back door and removed his boots. Thesecond he peeked around the corner, Violet dropped the knife and headed straight to him for a hug. He had his bag over his shoulder and his guitar in his right hand.

“I missed you.”

“You too,” he said.

He had as much right (if not more) to be mad at his parents as I did to be mad at mine. Yet, he felt comfortable walking into his childhood home. He didn’t hesitate to hug his mom.

Was he demonstrating his age and maturity, or was I an awful daughter who feared going home?

“Let’s take our stuff upstairs,” Isaac said, winking at me.

“Of course, you are welcome to stay in Matt’s room, but I really hope you go home and let your family see you,” Violet said, cutting the potatoes.

“We’ll take the temperature of that water after dinner,” Isaac said, nodding to my stuff. “For now, let’s take our things upstairs.” He set his bag and guitar in his room and turned just as I set my stuff down. “Matty’s room.” He nodded behind me.

I gawked as he carried my stuff to Matt’s room.

“So much for being adults,” I mumbled.

Isaac chuckled after depositing my stuff on the floor at the foot of the bed. “We won’t be here long. No need to rock the boat.”

“I’m drowning. I don’t even see the boat.” While I surveyed the room, an unexpected loneliness washed over me despite Isaac standing so close. I missed Matt because we were friends first, and I wanted to believe we would always be friends. But that seemed unlikely, and that hurt.

“He’s fine,” Isaac said, bringing my attention back to him. “He’s doingwhat he loves.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

I managed a melancholy smile. “And what am I doing?” It was a rhetorical question.

Isaac pulled me to him, sliding his fingers into my back pockets. “You’re doing what you love.”