Page 7 of This Broken Heart
We walk into the house. This is where the four of us grew up. Where my dad grew up.
It’s got a lingering scent of chicken noodle soup, as though the thousands of bowls of soup left their impression on the house.
I laugh when I see what mom has on the stove. She watches me pick up a spoon to stir the soup, pulling Reese into a hug. “How was your flight?”
“Good.” Reese answers, allowing mom to plant a kiss on her temple.
I find Maven playing quietly in the living room. She’s got Reese’s old plastic horses. When she sees me, her face lights up and she’s on her feet, reaching for me.
Her love is so unconditional. I hope she’s always this excited to see me.
But I have survived living in a house with my sisters, so I know changes will come, eventually.
I scoop Maven up and nuzzle her hair, breathing her in. “Don’t ever change, Mavey. Okay? Be my sweet little girl forever.”
She plants her hands on either side of my face. “Okay, daddy.”
We fall into old routines, setting the table while mom dishes up food.
Everyone has their designated seat, the soup pot, the rolls, everything has its place.
I’m helping Maven eat her soup, blowing on the noodles, when dad clears his throat.
I do a double take when I see his face.
Reese puts her spoon down. “Uh-oh. I know that expression. Someone’s in trouble.”
My dad laughs, expression softening. He’s tall and broad-shouldered. Except for the salt and pepper hair, we’ve been told we almost look like brothers. “Nobody’s in trouble, but your mother and I do have some news.”
They look at each other, and he places his hand over hers. My stomach does a little twist. What could it be? A tiny voice whispers that someone is sick. The thought grows in my mind, morphing, twining through my chest until it’s almost hard to breathe.
“Your mother and I bought a condo in Florida.”
I let out a noisy puff of air. “What?”
Mom looks at me with worried eyes. “And we’re downsizing.”
Reese sits back. “What?”
Dad laughs. “Do you kids know any other words?”
“What…” I sputter, pausing to gather my thoughts. “You’re moving out of the house? This house?”
Mom nods. “It’s too big for us, honey. And with the stairs… my knees just can’t do them anymore.”
Dad starts eating his soup again. “We found a ranch-style house in Clark.”
“In Clark?” Reese repeats, incredulous. “You’re moving into town? You hate town.”
Dad shrugs. “But I do like golfing.”
Maven knocks her spoon on the ground and I reach to pick it up, slowly processing their words. “You hardly ever have time to golf.”
“I’ll have time now.” He meets my gaze. “We’re retiring.”
I glance at mom, who’s looking even more worried. “What do you mean, you’re retiring? Both of you?”
Mom puts her hand over mine. “We’ll give you time to find a replacement for Maven.”