33
ZEKE
My parents welcomed me home with open arms, not that I expected anything less. I’d called and informed them I was coming home and that I would explain s**t once I got there.
Mom sat me down at the kitchen table with a cup of strong, black coffee after we got all of my stuff unloaded from the U-Haul I’d rented. Boxes and bags of clothes stacked in my old bedroom, but they could wait.
It wasn’t like I had any plans for the near future.
“So tell us why God brought you back to us,” Mom said, and I glanced at Dad across from me. He didn’t appear concerned, but he’d smoked enough pot in his lifetime I was pretty sure the high fog remained even while sober.
“I went to Malachi’s concert in Nashville last fall, and I met a man.” I sipped my coffee—Dad didn’t blink. “I kissed him.”
Ne
