Chapter 3

By the time my family got home, night had already fallen. They stepped inside with a little gift box in hand, wearing faint, relieved smiles. It was as if that tiny box held all their love and regret.

Dad placed it right in the middle of the dining table and said softly, "When Edwin comes out, we'll give this to him. He'll love it."

Mom nodded, then headed into the kitchen, where she immediately began getting dinner ready.

"I'll make his favorite spaghetti. Maybe it'll bring us some luck. I just hope things will finally start getting better for our family," she said.

Josephine followed Mom into the kitchen to help. "Mom, let me help. I'll toss the salad."

Warm light filled the kitchen as their quiet conversation drifted through the house.

In the living room, Dad took a clean towel and began wiping down my bedroom door. He wiped slowly and firmly, as though he could erase not only the years of dust, but also the distance that had grown between us.

I drifted beside him, looking at the new gray hairs at his temples and the lines around his eyes. The sight of it all made my chest tighten.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I let you down. I couldn't make you proud. Instead, I became a burden."

Moments later, Mom came out of the kitchen carrying a steaming plate of spaghetti. "Charles, go get Edwin. Tell him dinner's ready."

Dad set down the towel and walked to my bedroom door. He raised his hand, but for a long moment, he couldn't bring himself to knock.

He took a deep breath before speaking in an almost pleading tone. "Ed, come out and eat. I-I know I was wrong. I shouldn't have said those awful things to you. Please don't let what I said get to you."

There was nothing but silence on the other side of the door.

Dad's expression faltered. Then, Josephine came over and called softly, "Please come out, Ed. Don't be mad at us, okay?"

Still, there was no answer.

Tears welled up in Mom's eyes again. "Why does he have to stay mad for so long?"

She stepped up to the door and knocked hard. "Edwin Walker! How long are you going to keep this up? We know we were wrong! Do you want us to tear our hearts out before you'll believe us?

"Open the door! Whatever you have to say, we can talk it out!"

Her voice cracked as she fought back tears, helplessness and panic creeping into her words.

Dad took Mom's arm and shook his head. "Give him some time to calm down. We were the ones who hurt him first."

After saying that, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a key, and handed it to Josephine.

"Josie, this is the spare key to your brother's room. Keep it. Once he comes around, he'll come out on his own."

He thought I was just angry. He didn't know I would never be able to answer him again.

Josephine took the key and held it tightly.

…

The three of them sat at the dining table, but no one touched their food. The spaghetti Mom had made for me sat there, its heat fading, just as my body was slowly growing cold.

In the end, Dad sighed, picked up the plate, and carried it to my bedroom door.

"Ed, I know you're hungry. And I'm aware that you're angry, but please don't go without eating," he said as he carefully set the plate on the floor. "I'm leaving the food right outside your door. When you're hungry, just come out and eat."

With that, he led Mom and Josephine away.

I sank to my knees and stared at the plate of spaghetti, now cold. Tears slipped down my face.

At least I was no longer a burden. From now on, the three of them could live their lives in peace.