Hold Her Heart (Words of the Heart) (20 page)

He stepped out of my living room.

“Carey? What are you doing here?”

“I . . .”

And then I knew. “You’ve been staying here?”

“I stayed with my parents but then moved in with Mark for a couple of weeks, but then he said I needed to get out and I had nowhere to go. Mom and Dad told me I couldn’t move back in unless I got a job. I told them I was trying. Dad said there was a job in the shop, but I am not starting at the bottom. I have a college degree. So they said no. What was I supposed to do?”

“Here’s the thing, I don’t care. My suggestion would be pack your stuff and tell your dad
yes, please
, but that’s up to you. You have exactly ten minutes to get your stuff and get out. Ten minutes or I’m calling the cops.”

“Ban, I—”

I pulled out my cell phone, opened the timer app, and set it for ten minutes. Then I turned it so Carey could see.

“I’m not kidding.”

He didn’t whine. He looked at me and obviously finally saw what I was saying.

He was wheeling his suitcase down the stairs when the timer rang.

“Give me the key, and if you have any other spares, I want them, too.”

“I don’t.” He dug in his pocket and handed me a key.

“Good-bye, Carey.”

He didn’t say anything as he wheeled his suitcase to the sidewalk. He sat on it and got out a phone.

I’ll confess, I stood at the window and watched. Fifteen minutes later, his father came and got him.

I turned from the window and looked back at the house.

It felt . . . different.

I decided that finding Carey here had somehow tainted it. Rather than stick around and wait for the house to settle back into itself, I left my suitcase where it stood, threw the deadbolt in place, got back in the car, and headed for Dad and Margo’s.

I drove past my old neighborhood on the way and parked for a moment in front of the house I grew up in. There was no front porch, but I knew that around back there was a big deck.

Every year Mom and Dad threw an end-of-the-school-year barbecue. The yard was big for a Port Clinton yard, but when I remembered the teachers and their families in it, it was full. Mom was always smiling as she talked to her friends, all of them sharing stories of the school year like old combat buddies sharing war stories.

I loved those parties because I knew that the next day our summer adventures would begin. Having parents who were teachers gave me a unique summer experience.

It wasn’t simply vacations, though those were sweet. It was lazy days, when the three of us sat quietly reading books. It was trips for ice cream. It was laughter and trips to the lake.

The small Cape Cod house with the bright blue shutters that used to be gray had been my home for eighteen years. But even as the old memories came back, I realized that it wasn’t home any more. Not without Mom and Dad there.

I started my car and didn’t look back at it as I drove to Dad’s new house.

I studied Dad and Margo’s condo a minute before I got out. It was a contemporary-looking condo with its dark wood siding and floor-to-ceiling windows. As I walked to the door, I realized that though I’d never lived in it, this was home. This was the feeling I’d been waiting for.

“You’re back,” Dad said as he opened the door and hugged me.

“I am.” I was surprised to see boxes piled up in the hall.

He saw me look at them and smiled. “We put the condo on the market, and it sold the next day. So we’re packing up everything and putting it in storage until the end of the term, when we move.”

“Wow. That was fast.”

He nodded. “Margo said it’s like pulling a bandage . . . it’s easier if you do it all at once. I was just going to pack your stuff with ours, but since you’re here, maybe you want to look at what you have, and see if you want any of it.”

I nodded. “I should have taken it when you and Margo moved to the condo.”

“There wasn’t that much,” he said. “And we have a huge attic here.”

I hugged him, just because I could. “Love you,” I said.

He smiled. “I know, honey. I love you, too. How was Piper?”

“Better,” I said. “I think being home has made a huge difference. She’s thinking about writing again.”

“That’s good.”

“It is. Logan told me that he remembers her sitting on her porch in the nice weather, or in the window when it was cold, with her laptop on her lap. He said all the kids loved seeing her work. I realized that I’d like to see that.”

“It might take time, but I’ve read her books. She won’t stop.”

“She said she’d put it aside when she got sick again because she wanted to concentrate on real people, not on fictional ones. The fact that she’s thinking about writing means she trusts she’d have enough time for both.” I blinked back tears as I said the words.

Dad didn’t say anything, he just nodded that he understood. We stopped in the upstairs hall, where there was a pile of five boxes.

I opened the first one. Barbies, one of whom was ever so bald. “Do you remember when I wanted to be a beautician? I thought I’d cut Barbie’s hair.”

Dad laughed. “Afterward, we encouraged you to find some other career.”

I laughed as I dug around in the box. “My Noah’s ark. I had more fun with this set, though I always—”

“Hated that the animals were not proportional to one another,” Dad finished.

“Seriously, the rabbit’s almost as big as the tiger. I want to know what zoo the designer went to for his inspiration.”

There was nothing of earth-shattering importance, but I knew I’d be taking all the boxes home with me.

I was digging through the second one when I asked Dad, “Won’t you miss home?”

“I’ll be honest, home is wherever Margo is. I know it sounds like something on a greeting card, but there it is. Home, at least for me, is where the heart is. She’s my home. And so are you. Wherever you live will be my home, too.”

I pulled out an ugly plastic troll. He’d been a multipurpose troll. Sometimes he went on the ark and played Japheth, one of Noah’s sons, and sometimes he dated Barbie. I mean, she had such a bad hairdo, she hadn’t minded his trollish spikes.

“You can only have one home,” I said without looking up.

Dad’s laughter made me drop my troll and look at him as he said, “Honey, that’s like saying you can only love one person. You can have many homes. Wherever someone you love is, that’s home.”

As he said the words, an image of Logan flashed through my mind.

I picked up my Dorothy doll in her ruby-red slippers. It struck me as rather apropos. I felt like I’d tapped my heels together and finally realized what I’d known all along. I’d worried that I’d fallen in love with Piper, Ned, and Fiona too fast. But Ned was right, they were like the nose on my face. I’d admitted that Logan was in my elastic heart with everyone else, but I’d never said the words.

I loved him.

Piper said love happens in its own way, in its own time. Ned said that it took him a long time to realize Piper was a part of him. He realized there was no sudden moment of realization because he’d always loved her. Even my dad had said something like that. Love just is. Home isn’t a place; it’s people.

My phone dinged and I opened a text from Fiona.

A group of starlings is a murmuration.

I started to laugh and held up the phone so dad could read it. He smiled. “You’ve infected your sister with your odd affinity for weird names.”

Suddenly, it was as clear as the nose on my face what I had to do next.

I got the name of Dad’s moving company and real estate agent and packed up my house over the next few days.

As I pulled out of the driveway a week later, the agent was pounding a For Sale sign into the front lawn.

I didn’t feel any twinges of regret at leaving this home. Instead, I felt excited and ready to get back home. I knew that leaving home to go home might not make sense to someone else, but it made every bit of sense to me.

I was going home.

Less than three hours later, I pulled up in front of the houses across from the school in Erie, Pennsylvania. A few snowflakes landed on my windshield. I’d made it home before the snow. That was good.

I felt myself tear up when I saw that Piper and Ned were sitting on the porch. She not only had a winter coat and hat on, but she was bundled up and wrapped in a blanket as well. I was sure that the blanket was Ned’s doing. She’d probably wanted to see the first snow, and Ned couldn’t say no. But he could make sure she was bundled up.

Seeing them on the front porch was very much a sign.

“Siobhan,” Piper said. She started to get up, but I waved her back to her seat. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m home.” I smiled as I said the words. “You said you’d always dreamed that when I came home, you’d be on the front porch waiting for me. I’m so glad you’re here now.”

“I don’t understand,” she said.

Ned didn’t say anything, but I saw that he did understand, and he reached out and took my hand.

“I’m hoping that you’ll let me crash next door again for a bit. My house in Port Clinton’s officially on the market. I’ll find a real estate agent here in town and start looking for a house as soon as it sells. But I was hoping I could stay next door while I wait. All my things are in storage. I know it was a bit cheeky to assume—”

“Wait,” Piper said. “You’re moving to Erie?”

“Yes. Dad and Margo are leaving for Atlanta over the Christmas break, and without them there, Port Clinton’s not my home anymore. Home’s not a place; it’s the people that you love. I’ll always have a home with them, but I have one here, too. And I think I need to be here for now. I want to spend time with you and Fiona and—”

Piper didn’t let me get any further. She got out of her chair and wrapped me in her arms. “Welcome home, Siobhan.”

“I love you,” I said.

Ned got up as well and hugged us both. Suddenly, Fiona was on the porch. She threw down her school bag and joined the group hug. “Why are we hugging and crying?” she asked.

“Siobhan’s moving home,” Ned said.

“For good?” she asked me.

“For now,” I said. Because if I had my way, there was a chance that Erie wasn’t the only home I was going to make.

Piper seemed to sense what I was thinking. She sat back down and said, “He’s working until eleven.”

“I guess he’s in for a surprise when he gets home tonight.”

“Hey, Ban, did you know that a group of turtledoves is known as a pitying?” Fiona asked.

We all laughed.

I was home.

I borrowed Piper’s idea and was wrapped in a quilt at just after eleven, waiting for Logan.

The little bit of snow earlier hadn’t stuck around, but there were thick clouds overhead, obliterating any hope of seeing the moon or the stars. The atmosphere felt charged with anticipation. I wasn’t sure if it was the weather gearing up for more snow or me gearing up for Logan getting home.

There were a few lights on in the school. Probably the cleaning crew.

It was quiet out. The birds had long since tucked themselves away for the night. The lights were off next door as well.

I’d stayed for dinner. Fiona kept us all in stitches as she recited different bird group names. As I was leaving, I asked her if she’d memorized a list. She’d told me that every time she missed me, she looked up another group. Then very seriously she said, “I missed you a lot.”

I’d missed her, too.

It felt right being here. I needed to find a house and get settled and get back to work. Jaylin had gone above and beyond picking up the slack for me. I was working every day again, but I owed her a hundred percent, and I wasn’t sure I’d even reached eighty.

My phone binged.

A kettle of raptors
, Fiona said.

Go to sleep.

Night.

A car pulled in the drive. Even with just the streetlight for illumination, I hungrily drank in the sight of him. He smiled when he saw me and hurried onto the porch. “I thought you were going home.”

I stood up and tucked my phone in my back pocket, leaving both my hands free as I hugged him. I pulled back and looked at him. “Have I ever mentioned I have a very poor sense of direction?”

He looked confused but happy to see me. “No, you never mentioned it.”

I nodded and tried to keep a serious expression. “I do. You see, for a while I thought home was west of here, in Port Clinton. Then I thought it was east of Port Clinton in Erie. I was a bit turned around, you see. But I always get to the right destination, even if it takes me a while.” But not as long as it had taken Ned, I reminded myself.

Logan looked confused. “What do you mean?”

“Home isn’t a place. It’s people. And I’ve learned a very important lesson. It’s possible to have more than one home. I have one with Dad and Margo. And I have a home with Piper, Ned, and Fiona. And I think there’s a chance I have a home with you.”

He shook his head. “I don’t have a home. I travel the world. I’m already signed up to go away next summer,” he said. I wasn’t sure if he was reminding me or reminding himself.

“You’re not listening to what I’m saying—home isn’t a place; it’s people. Dad and Margo are my people. Piper, Ned, and Fiona are my people. Jaylin is my people. And you, Logan—you are my people. Even if you don’t think I’m your people, you’re mine. You are home. We’ve only known each other for a few months, I get that. Frankly, the fact I’ve known you for such a short time scared me. But I’ve learned a lot in the last few months. I’ve learned enough that my heart recognizes home when it sees it. When I look at you, I’m home.”

“But I travel the world . . .”

“And I have a very portable job. As long as we can find me an Internet connection, I’m good.”

“But—”

I cut him off. I realized that just because I’d figured things out for me that didn’t mean he had. “Listen, if this is too fast or too much, I get that. If you’re not inclined, I can accept that, too. But, Logan, don’t use your job as an excuse—just tell me thanks but no thanks. Let’s face it; there are sick and needy people everywhere. I think Piper proves that.”

“So what you’re saying is . . . ,” he prompted.

I’d hoped he’d give me some clue about what he felt, but even without it, I said, “I love you, you dolt.”