CHAPTER 9

He snorted and left me to it on the deck, ever the caring older brother. Reminded me not to deal with his health care when he was shitting in adult diapers.

I dragged my eyes from the door and toward the beach. Since I left, touring across America, I thought the first thing I’d do when I got home was sit on the beach and take in the fierce rush of the white foam against the beach, the echoing crash of the waves against the sand.

I thought I would breathe it in, the scent of home. Of the rich, enticing aroma of Mama’s cooking mixing with the saltiness of the sea. I thought I would relish it, that I’d close my eyes and relax as the stress of the tour washed out of me.

I thought I’d stand in the farm-style kitchen, laughing with my family. That I’d sit out there on the deck with my sister and get all the gossip. That Mom would need another spice rack put up in the kitchen or a bookshelf in Dad’s office.

I thought wrong.

I got up to grabbed another beer and twirled the bottle, resting my