Page 89 of Neo
violet
We drivethrough the quiet streets of Neo’s Ohio hometown, remnants of Christmas past still on people’s lawns and front doors. Neo’s hand is warm in mine, his grip tight, as if he’s drawing strength from our connection. I can sense his mixed emotions: excitement, nostalgia, and a hint of sadness.
“There’s my old high school, Madison High,” he points out, a small smile playing on his lips. “And that’s the diner where I worked one summer. Worst job ever because I suck at customer service, but am great at milkshakes.”
“Really, you? Sucking at customer service?” I tease, squeezing his hand and smiling at his trip down memory lane. “It’s beautiful here, Neo. There are parts of it that remind me of home.”
He nods, his eyes distant for a moment. “Yeah, it’s a good place to grow up. Just... a lot of memories, you know?”
We pull up to a cozy-looking brick house with a well-tended greenery. I can imagine that in the spring and summer months, it’s probably even prettier when everything is in bloom. A statuesque woman with fair coloring and a sleek brown ponytail, who must be Neo’s mother, is waiting on the enclosed porch, her face lighting up as we approach.
“Neo!” she exclaims, her arms open wide. He rushes into her embrace, and I can see the tension leaving his body. He’s a mama’s boy. I should have known.
“Mami,” he says, his voice full of warmth.
She turns to me; her smile was just as welcoming. “And you must be Violet. I’ve heard so much about you.” She pulls me into a hug, and I feel instantly at home.
“I hope all good things.”
“What’s not good about a young woman studying to be a lawyer to save the world?”
Inside, the house is filled with the mouthwatering aroma of garlic, onion and adobe seasoning. Neo pulls me to his side, whispering. “Ooh, she’s pulling out the big guns to impress you. Mom doesn’t really cook like this anymore.”
“Shh,” I quiet him. “You’re making me nervous.”
Neo’s mom busies herself in the kitchen, and I offer to help, but she waves me off with a laugh. “You’re a guest, Violet. Sit, relax. Dinner will be ready soon.”
Neo takes me on a quick tour of the house, showing me pictures and sharing memories. There’s a warmth here, a sense of love and family, that makes me feel even closer to him. I’m moved by the picture of Jake on the wall by the staircase. He’s wearing a cap and gown and looks so much like Neo it’s eerie. Same crooked smile. Same full head of hair, albeit darker than his. And same blue eyes.
“He took these pictures the summer after junior year and never even got the chance to actually wear this cap and gown,” Neo explains as I solemnly listen.
Dinner is a feast of arroz con gandules, pernil, and plátanos. One of Neo’s favorites. It turns out to be one of the best meals I’ve ever had in my life and I look forward to the day when his mom and I are close enough that she can show me how to cook it.
We eat and talk, and Ms. Major’s stories about Neo’s childhood make me laugh until my sides hurt. After dinner, Neo grows quiet, and I know it’s time to make our planned visit to Jake’s grave. Neo’s mom drives us to a well-maintained cemetery, which is about twenty minutes away at sunset in silence, each lost in our thoughts.
“I’m going to go speak to him first,” Neo tells us both and so the two of us hang back.
“I see he still refuses to drive,” his mom says to me.
“He doesn’t trust Uber drivers either. He won’t get in a car unless he knows the person and is sure they haven’t been drinking.”
“He can’t avoid driving forever.” I see a worried expression cross her face. “He hasn’t been behind the wheel since Jake died. It’s not healthy.”
“I agree, Ms. Major, but we need to give him more time. He’s been through something so traumatic. It must be scary to think about getting behind the wheel again.”
“Violet,” her head looks down. “You know that what happened with the boys was an accident, right?”
“Yes, ma’m, I know.”
“You must think I’m a horrible mother. What I did.”
“No, ma’m, not at all. You were protecting your child.”
“Neo tells me that he might have to have surgery on his hand?”
“Yes, to correct some nerve damage.”
“I’m hoping he’ll come home for it. He can rest here.”