After three more days, I'm finally allowed to return home. For a few seconds, mid-transport, a great peace envelops me. That peace continued as I stare at the front of my family home. It's a sight I haven't seen in over three years. My slow journey towards the front door is due in part to my injuries, but mostly it is awe.
For all my encouraging words to the crew, I had serious doubts about seeing this home ever again.
Before I get too deep into thoughts that I assume are from some future I have lived in, my father steps through the front door to help me up the stairs. I can't stop staring at him. I hadn't seen him since I blacked out on Tau Ceti Prime. He was released last night, but I was already asleep when he stopped by.
"Daddy!" I want to run into his arms, but it's too taxing to even walk quickly. He sees my dilemma and meets me more than half way. As exhausted as movement makes me, I swing my arms around my father's neck and bury my face into his chest. He smells just like I remember. A mixture of wood burning fires, my mother's brownies, Irish whiskey, and pure determination. It's a smell I have missed for so long.
"I never want to lose you."
"I couldn't stand losing you, Goldenbird." What a sweet endearment. The last time I heard it came from an alien machination. The inflection of this man, my daddy, is so much sweeter than the fake.
"Can we go inside, daddy?" With those words he hoists me up like I am seven instead of 22 and carries me inside.
"Gretchen, I found a sad puppy outside and have decided to keep her. She looks like she might bite but not very hard. Is that okay with you?"
"Does she look clean?"
I stick my face in my father's neck to keep the childish giggles at bay.
"She smells fine to me."
"What's she look like?"
"She's very beautiful. She has auburn hair and the prettiest blue eyes. They say that animals sometimes look like their owners. Now that I think about it, this puppy favors you."
"If you're saying I look like a dog, I'm not impressed Edward."
By this point my father and I have both lost our composure. As he sets me down on the couch and then takes a seat so my feet rest on his lap, we are both beyond control.
Through my squinting eyes, I see my mother come through the doorway.
"Oh Edward, she's beautiful. I guess we can keep her. But I have a two puppy quota. Is that clear?"
My mom positions herself on the other end of the couch, resting my head in her lap. At this point the only part of me actually touching the couch is my 'lower back.' If Phoebe gets here soon, I hope she takes one of the chairs.
My mom leans forward and lovingly kisses my forehead. She has done that more in the last few days then she has the rest of my life combined. Not that I am complaining. The way I see it, she and I have three years to make up for.
"You both have quite a bit of time off, what are you wanting to do?"
"Spend time with my family, mandatory counseling, and eat way too many brownies."
Coming from a Star Fleet family, I think my mother was shocked by how quickly my father and I both acquiesced to the time off. But I know what is going through my father's head, and I know what's going through mine. Six weeks is a minimum, and we both know it.
"Took the words right out of my mouth." My father agrees. I watch as my parents hands meet over me and intertwine. It reminds me of a similar gesture made on a planet half a lifetime away. I think of soulmates, and I'm assured once more that I made the right decision.
"I have made a decision." I say breaking the comfortable heaviness that had permeated my little family.
"What about Goldenbird?"
"I want to switch to the Command Track."
"That's wonderful. Wait until I can brag to Owen."
"Edward!" My mom isn't fooling anyone with her fake outrage. She was thinking the same thing about the matriarch of the Paris clan. I can see it in her eyes, she can hardly wait to tell Elizabeth that I am finally following my parents' advice.
We all turn when we hear stomping at the front door. Before I can even think about what I'm saying, I blurt "I hope you got your receipt from the pound. That one sounds like a handful."
"I heard that. You should just be glad that you are already hurt, or I'd hold you down and beat you up." Phoebe screams from the other room. She never really would. It's just one of those things sisters say. I know how worried the crash made her. And on top of that, she couldn't beat me up if she really did try. She's an artist, not a warrior.
"You're a pansy. If I'm an Irish setter, you're a rat terrier. You think your bark sounds vicious, but really it's just annoying."
"Irish setter my butt. At best you're a mutt. And not even one of the cute ones that people want to adopt. No, you're one that gets left in the pound until some sob feels guilty and adopts you out of pity."
Phoebe plops down in her seat which is blessedly the chair facing the couch. My backside can't take her bony knees right now.
"Girls." My mom may have only uttered one word, but accompanying it was a death glare that I have spent years emulating. A lot of the upper echelons at Star Fleet call it the 'Janeway death glare,' but really my daddy learned it from my mom.
"Yes, momma." Phoebe and I say slightly chastened.
"As fun as it is to see your mother turn that thing towards you two, I feel like it's time to eat lunch. Then you need to take a nap, Goldenbird. You need to learn to follow orders if you're going to give them one day."
So my family shuffled to the table just off the kitchen and ate a meal shrouded in light and happy conversation. I could see times when eyes would dim whenever Justin was inadvertently brought up. He was my fiancé. I am not the only one grieving. For my parents and my sister, he was a part of their family.
Eating a final bite of brownie, I begged off and fell into a surprisingly peaceful sleep.