My Heart's in Alabama

13 - Matt

We head back to her, I mean our apartment. Man, it still feels weird to say that, but I gotta keep saying it. I need to get used to it. Our apartment. Our apartment.

My mom cracks open our fridge and reaches in for some ice cream.

"Want any?"

Oooo, I think to myself. I do. But my eyes, and I can't believe I'm saying this, drift back towards my homework. It's due in two days and I've barely started it. To be honest, I'm kind of forcing myself to care here, but doing better in school was a promise I made to my dad with this whole "fresh start" thing. And my mom was supposed to help me

"It's Cookies n' Cream..." she tempts.

Damn. She knows that's my favorite.

"All right," I give in.

How long can a bowl of ice cream take?

"That's my boy."

She digs around for an ice cream scooper in a way that suggests she hasn't had ice cream for quite some time. She opens and shuts just about every drawer and cabinet in the place before triumphantly pulling it from the very, very back of a junk drawer.

"Aha! I knew I had it somewhere."

She slowly peels off the lid, savoring every second.

"Man, I haven't had cookies n' cream ice cream in the longest time."

"Really?"

I say, surprised by this information. My mom always had a wicked sweet tooth, especially when it came to ice cream. We never not had it in the house. Except for when my dad would get on a health kick and ban it from the house. But even then, she had it. Somewhere hidden beneath bags and bags of frozen peas.

"No, uh," she says, fumbling a bit. "It, um, reminded me too much of home."

My heart sinks. The room goes quiet and grows somber. I think about ignoring it and pretending she didn't say anything, moving on and jumping back into the light heartedness of simply sharing a bowl of ice cream.

But I can't ignore it.

"Why didn't you want to be reminded of home?"

She pauses, looks me in the eyes briefly, then turns away to distract herself with scooping the ice cream.

"It hurt to think about."

Silence.

Such a short, simple answer. I think about leaving it be. But again, I can't. I have to keep asking. Damn, I've been spending too much time with Logan.

"Why?"

"Why did it hurt to think about?"

"Yeah."

My mom takes a deep breath and releases a heavy sigh. She doesn't answer right away, but she does stop scooping and makes eye contact with me again.

"Because, I missed you. And Drew and Carrie and Marcie."

"And Dad?"

She doesn't say yes or no. Or really anything at all. She just shakes her head and smiles. Almost, like, in a "I knew you were going to ask that" kind of way.

"We have a lot of history, your father and I," she answers with a non-answer.

No way, I think, not happening.

"But did you miss him?"

She purses her lips and looks away, avoiding eye contact for a brief moment. I can tell she doesn't like being pressed like this, or backed into a corner, but honestly, I don't really care. I deserve to know.

"Yeah," she admits softly. "I did."

I do my best to conceal my smile. I knew it. I knew she missed him. There is hope. I know I should stop digging and leave it be as a win, but now that I've gotten a taste, I want more.

"What do you miss the most about him?"

My mom releases another heavy sigh and pulls out two spoons. She knows this conversation is best shared over ice cream.

"Come on," she says and gestures her head towards the living room. "Let's take a seat."

💚

"I missed the fun we had," she says, with nostalgia in her eyes. "The late night drives we spent driving around in his truck, wearing his letterman's jacket, meeting for breakfast at Chellie's after long nights of studying, diving into Lake Hutton headfirst without a care in the world. I missed that."

I try not to notice or ignore it, but it's so evident even I can see it. Everything that she missed the most was from a long time ago. One very specific point in time. A time when my dad was a different person. Before he had responsibilities, and a house to run, and a job to hold. Before us kids were born.

But, it's still something right? Stuff like that, those feelings, that spirit, it doesn't just disappear forever, does it?

Sure, carefree and fun-loving is not exactly how I would describe my dad in his current state, but it's gotta be in there somewhere. I mean he...has his moments. Occasionally. About once a quarter.

They just need to see each other again. And I don't know, actually talk to one another.

It's in there. I know it is.

I just need a reason, an occasion, or something to get them in the same room again.

Just then, a reminder pops up on my phone. 2 weeks away - Drew's birthday.

Holy hell. That could not be more perfect. Not only is it his birthday, it's his tenth birthday. A major milestone. No way is she gonna miss that.

I gotta call Kiersten. ASAP.

***

Come on, come on, I think to myself as I wait for her to pick up the phone. I'm on my third ring here, doesn't she know this is important?

Finally, she picks up and to my surprise, she sounds just as urgent as I do. Problem is, we're both so eager to share we pretty much end up talking over each other and causing quite the mess. It goes a little something like this.

Her: "Thank God you called!"

Me: "I know! Kiers, listen..."

Her: "I have something to tell you..."

Me: "No way, I do too!"

Her: "You go first."

Me: "No, you go first."

We're falling all over our words, creating a big ole mud puddle when finally we both spit out what we gotta say and man, it is not what I was expecting.

Both of us together: "Fine, okay."

And 1, 2, 3....

"I have the perfect plan." "This is never going to work."

And in unison, one more time because what the hell, why not?

"Wait, what?!"