Page 8 of Flights and Sights

“I’m counting on it.”

With that, I headed out of the meadery and into the parking lot, climbed into my rental car—a little nondescript white sedan—and headed back to my parents’ house. They’d rented a house in a little suburban neighborhood near Foggy Basin, a cute town that I’d always wanted to visit.

When I pulled up to the curb, there were several cars already in the driveway—three I recognized, two I didn’t. I’d crashed at a hotel near the airport the night before, and I’d taken my time getting up and moving in the morning, making that stop at the meadery on my way in. I hadn’t seen my family yet, and I was sure they’d be eager to see me—especially my mom. I grabbed my duffel from the trunk and slung my messenger bag over my shoulder before heading up the walk and into the house.

As I opened the front door, which was brick red, I was bombarded by noise. There were several children running around with brightly colored plastic guns, shooting foam darts at one another.

I managed to dodge an attack and made my way into the kitchen, where my mom was standing at the stove, stirring something and chatting with both of her sisters. Music played from a smart device sitting on top of her microwave. I knocked twice on the breakfast bar to get their attention.

“Hi, Mom.”

She turned around and her face lit up. “Callum, you’re here!” She handed her stirring spoon to my Aunt Elizabeth and rushed over to hug me. “Where have you been? I thought you’d be here a while ago.”

I wrapped my mom up tight in my arms and held her close. As much as I grumbled about them, I did love my parents. “Sorry. I got sidetracked with some work stuff. How are you?”

She stepped back and smiled up at me. I’d gotten taller than her in the eighth grade and now I basically towered over her tiny five-one frame, even though I was a pretty average height.

“I’m better now that you’re home. A whole month. I can hardly believe how lucky I am.” She shot a look over her shoulder at her other sister, Aunt Lynn, grinning.

Lynn rolled her eyes. “My boys are busy!” Her tone was defensive.

I chuckled and looked over at Lynn. “So I take it we’re not going to see Kyler or Liam?”

Lynn shook her head. “Not this year.”

“How’s work?” called Elizabeth from her place at the stove, where she was still stirring.

“It’s great.” I settled my messenger bag to the ground. “I’m working on a tourism piece about the area right now, actually. Which means…” I gave Mom a look.

“Don’t say it,” she protested.

“I’m working while I’m here.”

Mom sighed. “I hope this doesn’t mean you’ll be too busy to spend time with your family.”

“Not at all. I just won’t be around all day every day.”

“Callum!”

“Mom, who can afford to take a month off of work like that?”

She conceded the point. “Fine. As long as you promise to stick around when you can.”

“Scout’s honor,” I said, holding up three fingers in a scouting salute. A beat passed. “I’m going to go put my things down.”

“Your dad’s out in the garage, if you want to go say hello,” Mom said as I disappeared down the hallway with my bags.

I quickly settled into a bedroom that looked as if it hadn’t yet been claimed by anyone. I unpacked my clothes and stuffed them into the dresser carefully, not in any particular hurry. Once that was done, I made my way through the house to the garage in the backyard. The double door was rolled up and inside, Dad was settled down in a camp chair, a beer in the cupholder, family by his side.

My uncles, Martin and Rob, were in two camp chairs, my cousin Charlie in another. Dad perked up when he saw me. “Hey there.” He raised his beer can in my direction.

“Hey, Dad.” I nodded at the rest of the family. “Everyone.”

Wearing a black T-shirt and tight black jeans, Charlie practically jumped up from his chair, his long dark hair tied back in a ponytail. He was possibly the only cousin I actually liked, and one of the few who came to every reunion. The rest of the people my age in the family were fine, just… they were all overly perfect. Charlie was like me—a family fuck-up, a black sheep, which really just meant we were both people who didn’t want to live the rest of our lives in our small hometown in Southern California. We wanted more excitement out of life than small-town living could provide. He pulled me into a hug. “How the fuck have you been?”

“Good,” I said into his shoulder.

When he pulled back, he grinned at me. “Want to take a walk?”