We stepped into the sunny but cool afternoon and I glanced at them to make sure they still had their jackets on.
My parents had a small back yard, longer than it was wide and sandwiched between two identical lawns on either side. The yard was bordered by a chain link fence that had been replicated down the line in either direction. There was a satellite that hung on the back of the fence and a garden my mother worked tirelessly on that stretched from one side of the yard to the other. They had a short deck that held their grill and on the patio beneath, a covered swing that would fit the three of us perfectly.
I grew up in this house. My parents were both born and bred Chicagoans and they made sure their children had the same fate.
It was one of the things I was most grateful for. I loved this city. I loved its pretty architecture and bustling downtown. I loved my parents’ neighborhood and my neighborhood and the specific feel of it just being home. I loved Lake Michigan. I loved the tourist traps and the shopping. I loved the food scene. And the music scene. I loved everything about this city.
My parents’ house hadn’t changed much since I was a kid. They’d taken down the rickety metal swing set Josh and I grew up with, but only so they could replace it with safer outdoor toys for the girls. There was a sandbox now where I used to swing and a lone plastic slide that the girls barely played with anymore. They were getting too big.
Delaney was eight and Addison was five. I knew Josh and Emily were done having kids so I wondered if my parents planned to keep those toys or get rid of them. I obviously wasn’t going to be fulfilling my portion of grandkids for them.
“Auntie Kate, push us!” Addy demanded sweetly.
I dug my toes into the cement and pushed off so hard the swing rocked back and forth on its legs. The girls giggled uncontrollably as we forced the swing as high and fast as it could go.
I was just convinced I was going to have to buy my mom a new swing, because we were on the verge of breaking hers, when Emily poked her head out the back door and called us in for lunch.
The girls jumped off and raced inside, acting as if they’d never been fed before. I moved more slowly. It had been such a breath of fresh air to play with my nieces, but they often left a gaping hole in the place that wanted kids of my own.
Emily waited for me at the door and I noticed her nervous smile as soon as I stepped onto the deck.
“What’s wrong?” I asked carefully.
“Your parents did something really stupid,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry. I would have warned you sooner if I had known.”
“What did they do?” Panic and fear blinded me. I thought back on all of the other stupid things they’d done throughout the years and could only imagine how bad it was this time if Emily had come out to warn me.
“Nick is here,” she whispered.
“What?” My voice was not a whisper. It was half shriek, half demonic growl. I couldn’t even imagine why he would be over here. I couldn’t imagine any scenario in which my parents would invite him over. “Oh, my god. The sweet potato casserole.”
Emily placed a warm hand on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what they were thinking.”
“They obviously weren’t,” I snapped, then immediately felt bad. “I’m sorry,” I winced. “It’s just… this is the very worst possible time for me to see him again.”
I closed my eyes and remembered our Friday night together. I felt his lips on my temple, kissing me goodnight. I blinked and pictured us screaming at each other across the house, pissed and unforgiving and oh so broken. I pictured the last night we fought, as he picked up his pillow and left me on the bed… left me for months without a word.