Coming Home Read Online Free PDF Page A

In the shadows it looked like something out of a Halloween movie, the kind her mother never allowed her to see.
    Jessie stood shivering in the front yard when suddenly Goober stopped barking and the neighborhood fell quiet again, except for the crickets, who were having a party.
    She opened the front door, which prompted another hissy fit from Goober, and propped her foot in the widening gap to prevent Mr. Whiskers from getting out. Mr. Whiskers meowed his displeasure but wasn’t able to slip around Jessie’s stubborn foot. Jessie closed the front door behind her and reached down to console the disappointed mouse catcher, who was now mewing angrily.
    “There are cat catchers out there,” Jessie said, referring to the never-ending supply of red foxes in the area.
    She made her way through the dark living room and replaced her mother’s framed photo on the wall, careful to get it perfectly straight, then headed up the squeaky stairs to the second floor, where her mother would be sleeping. These days, Mom rarely stayed awake past eight o’clock.
    Softly, Jessie pushed against the door. It whispered open, thanks to her latest administration of WD-40. She held her breath as if that would help matters. The room was dark, but she recognized the still form propped against the pillows, the pale white arms gently folded, the wheelchair leaning against the wall. The arms flinched and the shadowy figure leaned up. Her mother’s recently washed hair glimmered in the dim hallway light.
    “Jessie?”
    “Did I wake you?”
    “No … I was dozing. How did it go tonight?”
    “It was boring.”
    Her mother extended her hand. “Come, sit by me.”
    Jessie crossed the room. Her mother’s once smooth and soft hand had acquired a pasty, sweaty texture, but Jessie gripped it tightly anyway, unafraid of what it meant, refusing the repulsion.
    Jessie sat on the edge of the bed. Slowly her eyes grew accustomed to the dim room, and she recognized the dark circles around her mother’s eyes. Each morning, Jessie applied cover-up for her mother, but by evening, most of the makeup was worn off.
    “They had cookies and punch.”
    “Were they good cookies?”
    Her mom knew her well. Jessie was very picky when it came to cookies. “Raisin oatmeal. Can you believe it? Of all the cookies in the world.”
    Wrinkling her nose in agreement, Mom said, “Too bad they didn’t have chocolate chip. What were they thinking?”
    Mom’s eyes sparkled when she smiled. In spite of everything, nothing could change that smile. No matter how ill, there was power behind Mom’s smile. But the cheerful expression faded, and Mom’s eyes turned shiny like lip gloss. She sniffled slightly, quickly, as if trying to disguise the pain, smiling hard at the end of each sniff.
    Jessie was on to her. “I’m glad you didn’t go, Mom. You didn’t miss anything. I should have stayed home, too. We could have finished Beauty and the Beast .”
    Mom nodded, but a cautious look crept onto her face. “Your father told me about the missing picture.”
    “Well … some of the other kids haven’t met you yet. And the picture looks just like you.”
    “Did you find one of your dad?” Mom asked graciously.
    Jessie bit her lip and thought about that. “Everyone knows Dad from the gas station.”
    Nodding again, Mom gently stroked Jessie’s arm. “He loves us very much, honey… .”
    Jessie shrugged, letting her gaze drift to the pink bedspread and sheets. Since this was her mother’s favorite color, Jessie made sure the pink sheets were always freshly laundered.
    “Dad works very hard to make up for the loss of my income.
    He’s under a lot of stress and doesn’t talk things out like we do because he never learned how. We have to be patient with him. When I’m better, he’ll get better, too.”
    “No, he won’t, Mom. He won’t change.”
    “We have to believe in him, too, sweetie,” her mother said, smiling wistfully. “There’s a whole other side to your