We reached my mom's house about a week later. Everyone was tired and dirty and looking forward to a hot shower. With soap and shampoo and poufy scrub things. I, on the other hand, was looking forward to seeing my mom for the first time in my shattered memory.
We dropped down into the backyard of a quaint little house in Arizona. I instantly recognized it. Brief movie-like clips surged into my brain; me standing the woods behind us with a bullet wound in my wing, standing here on this very doorstep as an Eraser, me playing Go Fish with my sister, Ella, on the front porch.
I was nearly trembling with excitement as Fang rang the doorbell. My mom opened the door a few long seconds later, a smile on her face and the smell of hot food wafting around her. Her eyes lit up the instant she saw me.
"Max!" she cried warmly, running forward to rap me in a tight embrace.
I awkwardly hugged her back, hoping I didn't smell too bad. If I did, she didn't show any sign of it.
"I'm so glad you came!" she said as she ushered the seven of us inside. "I've been hoping you'd come back for a visit soon." I could smell tomatoes in the kitchen as she plopped us down on her living room couch, not minding that we were encrusted with dirt.
Gazzy was the first to crack. "That smells sooooo good!" he exclaimed, taking in a huge sniff.
My mom smiled. "I'll go throw some extra noodles in the pot for you." By 'extra noodles,' she meant 'four or five boxes of noodles.' My stomach rumbled. "I left your clothes in the guest bedroom dresser. Feel free to shower."
Everyone hurried in the guest bedroom, trying to grab their clothes first and claim the shower. I managed to grab a purple sweater and a pair of long jeans before the Gasman elbowed me in the side. I quickly retreated and ran out the door. Thankfully, I was first to the bathroom and got to experience a long, hot shower while the others waited outside. I made sure I took an extra long shower.
When I came out, my still-wet hair pulled back behind my ears, Fang was staring at me, as if searching for something. I returned his gaze evenly and trotted down the hall, flipping my hair defiantly. I plopped myself down on a chair in the kitchen and watched my mom stir a big pot of spaghetti sauce. Scents of tomatoes and spices were floating around in the air as the red liquid bubbled merrily. I sat up taller and looked into the sauce to see if there were any meatballs in it. There were.
"That looks good." I commented.
My mom turned and smiled at me. "I'm glad. It's an old family recipe." She pulled up a second chair and sat down beside me. The sauce boiled nosily in its pot. "So, Max. Has anything notable happened since I last saw you?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "I'm not really sure."
Mom cocked her head. "You don't know or you can't tell me?"
"I don't know." I shook my head, hoping to conceal the tears that were pricking my eyes. Why was I crying? I have no idea.
My mom obliviously saw them despite my efforts because she fell quite for a moment. Then she spoke. "Do you want to talk about it?" Her voice was calm and soothing. I wanted to tell her, but I wasn't exactly sure what had happened myself. But Fang does.
I bit my lip and kept my eyes downcast. Mom patted me on the back. "When you're ready to talk, I'm ready to listen." She stood up and pulled some plates out of the cabinet. "Max, could you get the others? The noodles are ready." She emphasized her words by pulling a huge spoonful of long, thin pasta out of the largest pot I've ever seen.
I pulled myself out of the chair, wiped my puffy eyes on my sleeve, and walked into hallway. "Come and get it!" I yelled, then hurried to a chair so I could be the first to be served. The Gasman, Nudge, and Angel pounded down the hallway and threw themselves into their chairs. Iggy came next, slowly, feeling the walls and furniture as he went so he wouldn't bump into anything. Fang appeared at my side last, like a dark shadow come to life, and slipped into his chair silently.
When we were all seated, Mom put the food on the table. The pasta bowl easily took up half the table, but I knew there was even more in the kitchen. The sauce pot sat fragrantly next to the noodles, full of red tomato juice and bobbing meatballs. Last came a platter of garlic bread. There had to be at least three loaves there.
My mom checked her watch. "Ella should be home by now." As if on cue, my half-sister burst through the door, dragging her backpack on one shoulder.
"Sorry I'm late Mom. Those boys gave me trouble again . . ." her outspoken voice trailed off as she saw us. "Hi Max!" she smiled, waving at us. She ran over and gave me a hug. There was a scrape on her cheek that was drizzling blood onto me.
My mom hopped up and looked closely at Ella's face. "You guys go ahead and start, I'm going to be a while. We'll join you soon." With those words she led Ella out of the dining room and down the hall to the bathroom.
I gave the Gasman a sharp look; he was practically drooling in the spaghetti. I could feel Fang's eyes boring holes in my back, but I didn't acknowledge him. I carefully lifted a piece of garlic bread off of the tray. Everyone else watched me like, well, hawks.
"What?" I said.
"You let her hug you." Nudge said, wide-eyed.
"So?" I said, stuffing the garlic bread into my mouth. "Dig in!"
I heaped a spoonful of noodles onto my plate and drowned them in sauce. An uncomfortable silence fell over the table. I could tell there was much more to Nudge's surprise than just my sign of affection to my half-sister. No, this had to do with my leaving the Flock.
