Coming Home

Twenty-One

My blood runs cold as my eyes travel over the man who used to mean so much to me. Any possible greeting I could have offered gets stuck in my throat as the muscles contract, stopping even my breathing. My heart aches as my chest constricts, the realization that the man standing before me is now nothing but a stranger crashing into me like a freight train.

"Are you gonna invite me in?" Uncle Dave asks harshly, his face contorted into a scowl that makes him look far from the man I once knew him to be. There's not a single trace of kindness or remorse in his expression, his voice dripping with the hatred that still stings my heart. I had hoped that time would lessen the blow even remotely; however, it is immediately proven that it still hurts the same after all these years.

I gulp nervously, desperately trying not to show my uncle how his presence affects me. Shrugging my shoulders, I do my best to school my expression and uncaringly reply, "That depends. What do you want? Why are you here?"

"I can't visit my mother's house? My childhood home?" he asks, his annoyance clear.

His tone and choice of words only irk me more, further fueling the desire to slam the door in his face and be done with him entirely. "It's my house now," I tell him, an angry lilt to my own voice that I can't quite recognize. "So if you have no purpose here, you should probably come back some other time. Or never would be okay, too."

Uncle Dave groans in frustration as he rakes a hand through his hair before locking eyes with mine. "I'd like to talk to you, Alexis," he explains, his shoulders slumping forward in apparent exhaustion. "Can I come in?"

Something about his body language has me on edge, a tiny sliver of what might resemble hope breaching my beating heart. I squash it quickly, reminding myself that the likelihood of this conversation being a positive experience is minimal. Basically nonexistent. Instead, I mentally prepare myself for whatever unwelcome sentiments will soon be expressed.

After a brief hesitation, I nod in response, opening the door wider to allow him inside. Luckily for me, Grandpa Jones is resting, as he was tired from the trip, and Kelli is probably updating her boyfriend about her safe arrival. Uncle Dave walks into my living room, his hands stuffed into his jeans pockets. He looks around the room as if the house itself is bringing him physical pain.

"Well?" I ask him impatiently, hoping to hurry along whatever this is. "What do you want?" Crossing my arms over my chest, I try to remind myself to be strong in this situation. Uncle Dave and I haven't been friends in years. Hell, he said we weren't even family anymore. No matter what he says, I can't let him hurt me. I won't.

"It's not what I thought it would be," Uncle Dave says softly. "Being back in this house," he clarifies. "I thought I would feel... I don't know, more connected to her. But... she's gone..."

His words surprise me, but not as much as the catch in his throat when he says them. Not as much as the tears welled up in his eyes. But what shocks me the most is the overwhelming urge to comfort him like I would have done five years ago. Like I would have done before he turned against me. It hurts... to see him like this and not console him. To not wrap him in my arms and tell him everything will be okay. It hurts so much that I can't stop myself from doing exactly that.

Uncle Dave sobs into my shoulder as I gently rub his back, whispering comforting words into his ear. After a few minutes, the crying stops, and Uncle Dave looks into my eyes. We stand there without sound for several minutes, his eyes searching my face for something I can't quite put my finger on. At the same time, a lump forms in my throat, and I'm rendered unable to speak. I try to swallow it down, but the longer Uncle Dave stares at me, the harder it becomes. I'm left temporarily paralyzed, my body freezing in its current position, too afraid to move a single inch.

"I'm so sorry, Lexi," he whispers, his voice hoarse and barely audible as he bites back another sob.

Hearing him apologize startles me to my very soul. I drop my arms from the embrace and take a few steps back, creating a bit of distance between the two of us. My brain struggles to process his statement; it's as if the words he just uttered are utterly foreign to me. Like he's speaking some other language or something. He's sorry?

He continues, "I should have believed you back then. I should have been on your side. I just... I didn't want to believe that my brother could do something like that to you, his own daughter, and my best friend... I should... I should have..." His cries punctuate his sentences in all the wrong places, his throat choking off the words before they can form properly on his lips. His voice is strangled by the distressed sounds he's unsuccessfully trying so hard to suppress.

"I needed you," I whisper, my eyes filling with tears as I stare at my uncle. "I needed you more than anything when my whole life was thrown upside down, and you left me," my own voice breaks as I failingly attempt to force the words out clearly. My heart leaps into my throat, crushing my airway as I take in short, shuddering breaths to try and fill my burning lungs. I push past the obstruction to the best of my ability, forcing my words to spill from my lips, no matter how hard the struggle. I have to tell him how much he hurt me, even if it comes out entirely garbled through my obvious pain. "God, Uncle Dave, it hurt so much. You leaving me hurt worse than the rumors, worse than my mom leaving... worse than everything my dad did..." My voice trails off as the wetness in my eyes spills over onto my cheeks in a steady stream.

"I know that things will probably never be the same between us again, but I would like to stop fighting with each other. I want to be on your side," Dave assures me, finally offering a ray of light that I'd been praying for fervently for so long. The olive branch that I'd always needed.

My face twists into a pained expression, my eyelids slamming shut as I flinch at the overwhelming hope rapidly growing in my belly. "Why?" I ask, unable to say anything else.

"What?" he questions, confused.

"Why?" I repeat, gathering what's left of my diminished strength. "Why now? What made you change your mind?" I continue to question him, my heart filled with so many emotions that I'm not sure what exactly I'm feeling right now.

Uncle Dave shrugs his shoulders and says, "I should have listened to you in the first place. I know you, Lexi; I know you wouldn't make up something like that." When I don't say anything, he fidgets with the hem of his shirt and adds, "I'll help you get justice against your dad."

My eyes widen in absolute shock. What? Against his own brother?

"I'm pretty sure it's too late to press charges against him," Uncle Dave says quietly, "but we can at least make it known around town that it was him and not you."

"You... you would do that? To your own brother?" I ask disbelievingly, my gaze glued to him as if he's just grown a second head or something.

"It's the only way I can even begin to make it up to you," he replies quietly, the words laced with the torment I hadn't known he'd been fighting over the years. "Lexi, I'll do whatever it takes to clear your name."