At Last (Credit: Aenami on DeviantArt)
Now Playing: “Fall Into Place” – Apartment
There’s something to be said about coming home triumphant. The streets of Grantchester look no different than yesterday morning when we left on our way to New York. But every sea-battered brick, every townie in thick sweaters and coats, every piece of street art, and the scent of the ocean all seem so much more vivid. Mom’s Challenger is the car the pageant queen sits in during a holiday parade, and I feel like I’m the damn pageant queen right now. Give me my sash and tiara, just don’t ask me to show my legs in a dress. Nobody needs to see that shit.
My mother doesn’t feel quite the same jubilation. Can’t say I blame her. I already had my hours of knee-knocking in fear, intimidated by the unknown. But I conquered the mountain yesterday, both by facing my biggest ghost and by successfully bringing said ghost back to the land of the living. And living are we, the fall colors making home picturesque. With some help from Allison and Martin.
Still, I haven’t seen my mother this tense since Reilly climbed the swing set at the playground and tried to balance on top of it when we were kids. Mom’s drumming out of time on the steering wheel at every red light and stop sign, and I’ve heard her breathing get a little more labored. Despite all of my assurances, I know she fears dad won’t want anything to do with her. As we turn back onto Siren Road, I can see the toll it takes. My mother needs every bit of her willpower not to turn the car around and bolt again. Meanwhile, I’m practically buzzing from excitement, electricity in my veins the likes of which I haven’t felt since the last time I stepped on stage. Maybe not even then.
As pumped as I am for mom and dad to finally talk, I’m even more excited for my sister to get her engagement present. I know Reilly has been in Boston for the last few days, and she’s due back shortly. I’m grateful, it made our jaunt to New York state so much easier. Justin is in Vegas for a conference and won’t be back until tomorrow, so I’ve already volunteered to pick Reilly up from the train station. Partially because I want to prime her for this, to bask in the moment, and also because I feel like the reunion needs to be a family moment. We’ll see if everyone else agrees.
We pull into the driveway, and mom puts her car in park and kills the engine. We both sit in a charged, heavy silence for a moment. Mom looks around and gently touches the steering wheel, as if she cannot believe she drove her car and parked it in front of her house, and it’s actually happening.
“Want me to go ahead and break the barrier?” I offer.
She shakes her head. “No, we go in together. I didn’t come home, Casey. You brought me home.”
“Okay. Love you mom.”
“Love you too, sweetie.” As soon as she finishes her sentence, a smile bursts onto her face. I follow suit. We’ve both been waiting to say those words to each other, and damnit if it isn’t the best part of this electric victory. The most mundane moments from our past are now revolutions in and of themselves.
The doors shut with heavy thunks and she comes around the car to stand next to me. She takes a deep breath but something holds her back from actually moving towards our quaint little house. I squeeze her shoulder in reassurance and we walk towards the door together. I hadn’t noticed before now how cracked and chipped the paint is on it, I feel like we just repainted it a few years ago but it was probably long before mom ever left. Time is brutal, unrelenting, and expedient; a few minutes turns into ages before you even notice.
The keys I dig out of my pocket are rendered useless when my father swings the door open. His hair is sticking up in a few places, and three days of stubble throw salt and pepper coloring onto his face. My parents both freeze and size each other up. Words fail them both as they are pulled towards each other by the magnetic force of true love, and they embrace each other in the way you only ever seen in movies.
I am able to turn my attention towards my friends as they pull up in mom’s car. As soon as the door opens, I can hear the bickering at fever pitch, and it makes me smile. Everything is exactly the way it should be; the way I’ve been dreaming it would be. Even with Martin and Allison arguing over Taylor Swift. Not on the value of her as an artist, but on the ranking of her albums, nonetheless. These are the kinds of silly moments that defined my youth. I didn’t realize my early twenties would make me feel like I have already seen so much.
My parents have broken their hug, and are staring at each other in shock, disbelief, grief, joy, uncertainty, and a quiet recognition of the work that lies ahead.
“Graham, I missed you so much,” my mom speaks barely louder than a whisper and I think it’s honestly all she can muster at the moment.
“Mel, I have waited for this every moment since you left. But I can’t do this if you’re not here to stay.” My father’s usual warmth is behind locked gates and thick walls. His tone is unusually even and grave, and his eyes are swirling with a dark resolution that threatens to be torn apart by the sheer force of the emotions in his head and heart.
“I’m here. For good.”
The dam bursts, and my father hugs my mother again, his face relieved and overjoyed. He opens his mouth to try and say something but decides against it. The words are not coming easily to him. I’d know, they didn’t come easily to me.
“Hey, I’m going to leave you guys to talk things over for a bit on your own,” I state simply.
“You don’t have to,” dad assures me but I wave him off.
“Mom and I got several hours in the car today to work through our shit. You guys need your time. I’ll make sure I get Reilly from the train station.”
“Come on, Casey, this is a family thing, you should be part of it too,” dad protests.
Mom gently taps his chest twice, “Let him go, honey. He’s right.” She turns to me, “But we will all be picking Reilly up from the train station together.” She looks back at my dad and smiles a glowing smile. “Your father’s right, it is a family thing.”
I wave them inside with a smile and head back to my friends. We’ll kill some time until my sister’s train nears. I’m certain that the time my parents spend having this discussion will not be the last in the coming months. For right now, I need to weigh in on the Taylor Swift debate.
“No fuck this, Graves! You’re wrong, you’ve always been wrong, and you always will be wrong!” Martin bellows.
Okay, maybe I don’t need to weigh in.
“Brother, I have not see you this up in arms since you got into the argument about NASCAR with that dude at the bar after our set,” I try to defuse the situation by redirecting the anger. It works because Martin’s scowl takes on an entirely new level of hatred.
“Well that guy was a fucking idiot!” From his tone, I still cannot determine if Martin is seriously this riled up or if he’s just being typical him. There’s a venom in his voice and a fire in his sneer. But Martin is also king of the drama queens on a regular basis. And that nickname was bestowed upon him by the actual drama queens back in high school.
“Come on you two, let’s hang in my house.” Allison shoots me a sympathetic smile, as if she understood exactly what I was doing with my parents. She probably does. I’m dating a really smart girl. We head towards her house, and she opens the door with a carefree ease.
The door to casa del Barton is almost worn bare thanks to the unrelenting weather and lack of upkeep. Allison’s house is considerably more rustic than ours. Part of it is her mother’s choice of decoration, and filling the gaps left by what William took when he moved out to Seattle but the other part of it is that I know the Bartons have had to make do with what they could after the divorce. Andrea made significantly less than her husband before the divorce and used most of what she made after it to give Kat the best life she could when William went west with Allison.
Still, the Barton household exudes warmth and charm like only a house run by Andrea Barton could. Sure enough, with flour covering half the counter space in the kitchen, and a well-loved black leather recipe book out on a scarred and stained kitchen table, Andrea has made the house smell like fresh apple pie.
Martin’s mouth is already watering and mine honestly isn’t far behind.
“Now this is a sight I haven’t seen in quite the long time,” Andrea greets us with smile lines and honey in her voice. She invites us to sit down at the table.
“Lovely to see you, Ms. Barton,” Martin greets in a jokingly posh voice, careful to stretch the title like saltwater taffy as its being made. He makes a deep bow while Allison and I take our places at the table.
“Martin, it’s been a long time since you’ve been around here,” Andrea chuckles, “And yet it’s like nothing’s changed.”
Martin beams a smile right back at her. “Well, I tried growing up, but it just didn’t feel right.”
Andrea offers us something to drink but we politely refuse. She asks if we’re going to be around for dinner, and I tell her that I’m having dinner with my sister tonight.
“So, now that the three musketeers are reunited, does anyone want to tell me why you all went to upstate New York at the last minute?”
From our various positions around the kitchen, we all share uncomfortable looks before both my friends and Andrea all turn their attention to me. I guess since it’s all my thing, it’s my job to make the call whether we reveal the truth. I figure word’s going to get around anyways, so I might as well make it official.
“We found my mom.”
Andrea goes slack jawed. She starts asking a million questions, and Allison intervenes before prompting me to tell the whole story. I get to recount the tale which I have told half a dozen times so far, but this time, I get to add the ending. I get to, with the greatest pride I have ever felt, explain that not only was I able to track my mother down with the help of my two best friends in the world, but I brought her home.
“You mean she’s next door, right now?” Andrea seldom looks mystified. I have always known her to have a quiet determination, and a serene acceptance of the world around her, even in unbelievable circumstances. Right now, however, she could not be further from rationality.
I know from our childhood that Andrea and my mom had a bond too. Because Allison and I did so much together, our moms ended up spending a lot of time together too. I tend to forget that my mother’s disappearance wasn’t just something my family felt, this whole tightly woven town sensed the absence of a somewhat iconic figure.
So, it fills my heart with joy to answer Andrea’s question with, “Yes. She and my dad are talking a bit before my sister gets back from the city. Then we’ll pick her up from the train station together.”
Speaking of the devil, I get a text from my sister that she’s about ten minutes out. I text back that I was wrapping things up with Martin and Allison and that I’d come get her and we’d do diner pancakes together. She responds that my friends should be there too. I make them aware of the conversation.
“So, what does that mean you want us to do?” Allison asks softly, squeezing my hand. I know Reilly loves my friends like they’re her own siblings, but I know she’ll especially want them there tonight to thank them both for their roles in bringing mom home.
“Go to the diner with Martin and get us a table. We’ll be there soon.”
“See you in a bit, sweetie,” Allison kisses my hand, which makes both of us giggle. She makes everything feel so easy. Martin pretends to vomit. Allison and I hit him with an annoyed glare.
“And here I am with a fresh apple pie baking,” Andrea teases, “Say hi to your mom for me and tell her I’d love to see her when she gets her bearings.”
An idea crosses my mind. “Think you’d be willing to share that pie after we’re done at the diner?”
“Of course, not like the three of us can eat it all,” Andrea scowls slightly, “And my pie never did keep for more than a day or two.” I know that fact has caused her great annoyance in the past.
“Then I think we’ll be back here to stop that from being a problem,” I state, grinning.
“Good, that’ll give me time to go pick up Katrina from practice. And for her to have bathed by the time you get back here.” The grim tone in the second sentence gets a laugh from both me and Allison. Even when she’s almost an adult, Kat is still causing all sorts of hell for everyone.
“Thank you. I’m glad this place doesn’t feel so intimidating anymore,” I say.
Andrea exhales softly. “Oh Casey, you were always welcome here. I love seeing you two lovebirds around.”
“Moooooooooooooooooom,” Allison groans, sinking her face into her palms as if they were sand she could bury her whole head in. Unfortunately, she’s still here, trapped in the room with the rest of us. Andrea smiles again at annoying her daughter.
“Okay, Casey, go get your parents and get your sister. Graves, you’re gonna drive us to the diner because I did my time behind the wheel,” Martin takes charge and the three of us get up from the table.
“Oh please, you act like you were working in the coal mines,” Allison grumbles as she grabs her keys from the hook next to the door.
Martin starts whistling “Sixteen Tons.”
Allison and I sock him in both arms.
“Ow you dicks!”
“Good luck with him, honey!” I give her a kiss on the cheek and head back to my own house.
Now Playing: “Simple Song” – The Shins
Our door is thick and heavy; it was handcrafted many years ago. Even as old as I am now, some days, it feels difficult to move, as though I am trying to push my way through a mountain. However, this evening, it’s sails open with an effervescent ease. I call to my parents that Reilly’s train is about to come in, and they exit the living room. I can tell from the slight puffiness to her eyes that mom was tearing up, confirmed by the stains on my father’s t-shirt
“Honey, do you want me to drive?” my dad offers, “I know you were behind the wheel a lot today.”
“That would be nice. So long as you don’t almost strip the gears again,” my mom grabs her coat and hits dad with an admonishment over a shameful memory all in one graceful motion.
Dad groans, and his shoulders sink. “It was one time!”
“It was four times, dear,” my mom corrects him softly, with two reassuring taps on his shoulder.
He pulls on his own jacket with sighs and frowns and grumbling. I interject to ask if we can argue over ancient history later because Reilly’s going to be upset if we’re late. My parents both admit I’m right, and I squeeze myself into the backseat of the Challenger and we’re off for Union Station.
Grantchester’s train station is a two-story brick masterpiece with a dark blue shingled roof, and distinctive window frames in green. It was originally constructed in 1855, designed by a local architect. In the 1930s, a glass dome was added over the tracks in the rear of the station to protect passengers from the elements, a construction project financed and carried out by locals commissioned by a wealthy family.
Union Station gets its name from the fact that it serviced multiple railroads which eventually became part of the Old Colony Railroad way back in the day. The Siding is a restaurant nearby which celebrates the station’s history of bringing musicians to and from town and has an awesome mural depicting the trains carrying the period equivalents of bards throughout its history.
After the T commuter line normalized service to Grantchester in the sixties, the station was added to the National Register of Historic Places and got some federal grant money for upkeep and modernization. I always loved coming back from a trip into the city, and I’ve picked up friends from college on their way back from Thanksgiving or winter break on more than one occasion. Not to mention my sister from her trips to Boston.
Dad parks the car in the lot and we all make our way through the old hardwood floors of the station building to the platforms. The sun is setting, casting an orange glow over everything. There’s a nervousness held between both my parents, and I can’t say I blame them. Reilly’s train pulls in, and passengers start filing out. I spot her down the tracks before she spots us.
I take off. I want my sister to have a slight buffer. Her face lights up the moment we lock eyes, and she quickens her pace down the platform to match mine. Her train didn’t have too many people on it, which I’m grateful for. They shuffle towards the station building while Reilly makes a beeline for me.
“Hey Riles!” I greet cheerily and get smashed into a hug a moment later.
“Hey dude!”
“Listen, I have a surprise for you,” I try to prime her, but the hug ends abruptly and she’s staring over my shoulder. She shakes her head and looks me in the eyes.
“Sorry, what? I thought I saw a woman that looks like mom.” She bites her lip and looks away, towards the train. I know this is leading to another round of heartbreak over mom not being home, which is why I need to head it off at the pass.
“It is.”
She snaps her head back towards me, eyes wide. “What?”
“So, you know how I’ve been really secretive and weird since you got engaged?”
“Yeah, you were trying to keep the fact that you and Allison were hooking up all hush hush,” she literally shrugs it off.
I roll my eyes and sigh. “We were not hooking up. Hell we haven’t even gotten to that point yet.”
She cocks and eyebrow. “Sure dude.”
I wave my arms wildly in her face, “You’re getting me off topic.” I take a deep breath. “I’ve spent all this time and effort finding mom to bring her home.”
She sticks her fingers in an electrical socket. “WHAT!?”
“That’s why I went to Philly, and Asbury Park, and Seattle. I was tracking down clues that might lead to mom. I’ve been poring over her notebook from her touring days dad gave me the day he gave me the car. Remember the day we went to the diner and talked about Allison? Yeah, that was that day I got the book and the car.”
“Wait…” she’s dazed and confused, and I take that as my cue to continue onwards.
“Anyways, between letters mom sent to uncle Derek, some information from Allison’s dad in Seattle, stuff in mom’s notebook, and a little help from Martin’s research skills, we tracked her down to a cute little cabin in Upstate New York. The three of us took off yesterday and we just got back within the last couple of hours.”
She pounds her fist on my chest three times. Hard. My chest loses feeling because of the stinging pain. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me!?”
“Ow!” I cry out, and she stops hitting me. “I know mom not being here has really bothered you, and I didn’t want to get your hopes up if I couldn’t deliver. But I brought her home. To stay. Happy engagement, Riles.”
My sister stares at me in disbelief for a few moments. The garbled announcements of the train station and the footsteps of other passengers awaiting an evening train into the city are drowned out by somebody’s heartbeat. I can’t tell if it’s mine or hers or both of ours, but it’s definitely taking over my ears. Reilly grabs me into another massive hug. Breathing becomes difficult but I don’t care. This is exactly what I needed after all of this. I hug her back.
“I love you so fucking much, dude.”
“Love you too, dude,” I chuckle.
She almost throws me to the ground when a realization hits and she breaks the hug off and starts grilling me. “Wait, so Martin and Allison were part of this? How long? What all did they do?”
“Yes ma’am. They’re the whole reason I was able to bring mom home.” I give her a brief synopsis with the promise of a full recap to accompany our pancakes and milkshakes alongside the peanut gallery so they can correct the record when I downplay their accomplishments.
“So where are they?”
“They’re saving us a booth at the diner,” I reply with a smug smile, “And afterwards, we have apple pie at the Bartons.”
A tear slips from my sister’s eye and her lips tremble in a smile. She crushes me in another hug and laughs with euphoria and disbelief.
“C’mon, go say hello to mom.” No sooner do the words slip my lips is my sister bolting towards our parents, her bag in my hand. I turn just in time to see her leap into mom’s arms, almost causing our mother to fall right on her ass. I can’t help but laugh myself. For once, I am certain that I’m a good brother.
This is everything I wanted the moment to be. There will be plenty of time for us to catch up and reminisce and be a family at the diner. We will feast upon pancakes and sausage, drink milkshakes and coffee, and we will laugh. We will cry. We will tell stories and do all the things a normal family does. And there will be so many more tears and frustrations and reentry problems to deal with in due time. But for now, I am content knowing that my mission is accomplished, my family is reunited, and my mother will be by Reilly’s side on the road to the biggest day of her life.
Tonight, I can sleep easy, for there are no more ghosts to haunt me.
Ark of the Lost Angels 
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