Page 2 of Needed You

Sometimes I beat myself up for not being able to lean into that peace and comfort when Nate died. Instead, I convinced myself I was part of the reason he died. Because of that, I needed to get out of here as soon as I could. I needed to get away from the ghosts.

So I did. I left when I was eighteen, just a week after I graduated from high school. I took off with Tyler, a friend from school. He met a girl online and was moving to Sheltonville, a smaller town about two hours southwest of Glenrock. It didn’t take much for him to convince me to go with him. It was perfect timing and the right opportunity to get away, and honestly, I was so deep into drinking and smoking pot and generally being a stupid, reckless kid. If I stayed, there was a good chance I’d have ended up just like my best friend.

That thought sobers me as I pull up into my parents’ driveway, and I park my bike and sit there for another moment, reflecting.

Sheltonville was more than just a memory. It was where I found myself again. I spent a long time adjusting, trying to manage my emotions and find a way to move forward with all the intrusive thoughts constantly bombarding me. I worked—a lot—at the main motorcycle shop in Sheltonville, and I made a few more friends, mostly guys who were either mechanics or connected to the shop there. And I loved the work. It reminded me of my passion for bikes and that I could have joy in life again, even with the devastating loss of my best friend.

Things were just evening out for me when my uncle called and let me know that he was ready to sell me the shop, and now was the time to come home if I wanted it. Two weeks later, I packed up my small apartment in Sheltonville, said goodbye to my friends there, ended things with the man I was casually dating, and came back here to Glenrock, the place I used to call home.

I look up at the house, guilt weighing me down again. I could have visited more. I should have. But it always hurt too much, coming back here.

Now, I really want to feel like I belong again, that this is where I’m going to put roots down. But there’s a knot in my stomach that makes me question whether I’ll be able to.

I get off my motorcycle, hang my helmet on the handle, and adjust my T-shirt. Then I start up the walkway toward the front door.

My mom invited me over for dinner tonight because I’m sure she knows I don’t have the kitchen stuff in my apartment unpacked yet. Or maybe she just wanted to see me again, even though it’s only been four days since I got back to town. Whatever the reason, I’m looking forward to a home-cooked meal with my family.

As I approach the door, a feeling of contentment wraps around me. I’m so ready to settle in and enjoy a stress-free night and let my parents spoil me a bit while I secretly enjoy it.

I knock twice on the wooden door before turning the handle and letting myself in. The scent of my mom’s amazing cooking attacks my nostrils—garlic and herbs and something rich, like chicken, maybe. My stomach growls in anticipation.

I round the corner into the kitchen and see my mom stirring the contents of a pot on the stove. “Hey, Mom,” I greet with a grin, and she turns around, startled.

“Goodness, Levon! You scared me,” she says, grabbing the towel off her shoulder to wipe her hands. She swishes the towel toward me as if she wants to snap me with it, but then she gives me a kind smile and closes the distance between us instead, her arms open.

I lean down and give her a hug, planting a kiss on her cheek.

“How did it go?” she asks, releasing me and turning back to the stove.

I grab a carrot stick from a platter on the counter and munch down as I rest up against the island in the middle of the kitchen. “It was wild,” I tell her. She doesn’t need to know how worried I actually am about taking over the business. “Sort of surreal. I still can’t believe it’s mine.”

She chuckles and shoos me away as she sets the pot on a trivet on the island. Then she pauses and looks up at me, her smile softening.

“My boy,” she says, her eyes carrying that tired but caring sparkle only a mother’s eyes can. She sees right through the tough façade I’m wearing, and I probably shouldn’t be surprised. I put up those walls quickly, but she knows. She knows what happened when I was sixteen and how much it’s affected me, even if I’ve been trying to hide it. “I know it’s not easy being back. But give it time. You’ll adjust, and I’m sure being here won’t be this hard forever.”

The reference to my reason for leaving town six years ago stings, and she seems to know it. She rubs my arm soothingly and then turns back to the cabinets. Reaching up onto her tiptoes, she takes a stack of plates off the top shelf. She hands me four of them. “Here, go set the table, please.”

With a nod, I take the plates from her and head to the dining room, replaying what she said in my head.

“I’m sure being here won’t be this hard forever . . .”

A sharpness stings my chest, and I close my eyes for a second. She’d better be right, or I might not survive.

When I left Glenrock to move to Sheltonville, I had no choice. I had to escape from this town and everything that happened. On top of that, I was making bad choices, getting myself into trouble, and it was only a matter of time before things were going to catch up with me. I was hurting, aching, out of my mind with guilt and grief. Leaving really was my only option. I needed to remove myself from all the reminders of Nate and get my head on straight.

And I did, I think. So now I can start the life I always wanted back here in my hometown with my family. Even if it’s hard, I’m more mature now. I can do this.

I set the plates at everyone’s spots at the table and then place a napkin and set of silverware next to each plate. Just as I finish the last place setting, my sister comes barreling down the stairs. She swings off the railing, and her body crashes into me, slamming a chair into the table and causing the silverware to rattle.

“Jesus, Linds,” I say with a laugh as I wrap my arms around her.

Lindsey jumps up and down in my arms. “Hi,” she squeals, squeezing me tight before pulling away and then coming back in to give me another quick hug. “I’m so glad you’re home, Lev! I missed you so much.” She jumps up and down again as she heads to the kitchen. A moment later, she returns with a heaping bowl of mashed potatoes, which she sets on the table.

My heart warms inside my chest as I watch her. Lindsey has a light about her that just seems to brighten everything around her. She graduated from high school three years ago and has been living with my parents to save money for a backpacking trip to Europe she’s been planning with her best friend for as long as I can remember. Like most parents would be, our mom is beside herself with worry, but I know my sister. She’s strong-willed and bold, and she’ll be fine.

My mom joins us, bringing more platters of food, and then the three of us take our seats around the table just as my dad comes in from the kitchen, likely after washing his hands from being outside tinkering around with something in the backyard. He gives my mom a kiss on the cheek and squeezes her shoulder before he sits as well.

Then we take turns spooning food onto our plates. My mom and Lindsey chat away about Lindsey’s breakfast and lunch shifts at the local diner where she works, Lindsey animatedly filling our mom in on all the gossip she heard, and my dad and I make small talk about the shop.