The sun fell behind the trees, its shredded shadows not enough to keep me warm anymore. I pedaled back home wishing I’d worn at least one more layer. It was times like these I wished we had more than one entrance to our place. The last thing I wanted was some post-blow-up chat with Mom. Her car was in our spot and I trudged up the stairs figuring I’d find her right where I’d left her. She was undoubtedly laying in wait to finish the argument I’d so rudely left when I stormed out.
The apartment was quiet though; I could feel she was gone. On the counter was a note.
Shane,
Went out with Carol and the girls. I’ll be back late. The place is yours. I left you some cash for pizza.
Love, Mom
I ordered the pizza and zoned out on TV, but the meal was like cardboard and I couldn’t remember the
