Overlooked(1)(3)

“Happy anniversary, Mom,” I say, giving her a kiss, and she squeezes me harder.

“I’m so happy to see you, Zane,” Mom says, hugging me again before she finally lets me into the house.

“Your father’s already asleep. So if you’re hungry, there’s leftover pot roast in the fridge that I can heat up for you. I bought those chips you like,” Mom says as I put my stuff down. “It’s so good to see you, sweetheart,” she tells me.

“Good to see you, too, Mom,” I say, grinning at her.

“Your father’s pretty sure he fixed the problem with the cable reception in here, but if it’s still glitchy, let us know,” Mom says. She hugs me again and I hug her back.

“Mom, I’m not going to just up and disappear if you don’t keep hugging me,” I tell her.

She laughs. “I know, I’m just so glad,” she says. “I’m going to go and watch some horrible Lifetime movie, but if you need anything…”

“If I need anything, I know how and where to get it,” I tell her. “Relax, Mom! I’m not Aunt Tracy.”

“You certainly aren’t,” Mom agrees. “Thank God she decided to stay at a hotel.”

I snicker and Mom goes still, looking like she wants to bake an entire batch of cookies or maybe start the pot roast over from scratch for me. Some things never change.

“Did I tell you Harper came home for the week to be part of the celebration, too?”

“I saw a car out front next door,” I tell her. “I figured it was probably her.”

“She got in this afternoon, and helped us paint some trellises and things for the party,” Mom explains, as she leads me up the stairs to my old bedroom. No matter how many times I come home, no matter the fact that she would never have done this for me when I was a kid, Mom insists on walking me up to my bedroom as if I’m a guest.

Mom goes on about the preparations, about the parties they’re throwing, and I only kind of half-listen. She’s going to tell me all the same things tomorrow and the next day anyway.

Besides which, I have bigger things on my mind. My enlistment is coming to an end, and just before I left to come home my commanding officer sent me paperwork to sign. I could either leave the army or re-enlist. For the past week or so, since the first notice came, it’s been all I can think about. I know my mom wants me back home, or at least, close enough to home that I can visit more than maybe twice a year, but what would I even do outside of the military?

“Go watch your movie and get some sleep,” I suggest. “I’ll probably crash out in a bit.”

“I’ll see you in the morning, sweetheart,” Mom says, finally leaving me alone.

I shake my head and stand up. I’m a little hungry, but I figure I’ll give Mom a chance to settle in and get into her movie before I head for the kitchen. By then she should be able to let me fix my own plate and heat it up without wanting to do everything for me.

I look around my room, feeling a little bored and restless. Compared to my place on-base, it’s cluttered. Posters on the walls, stuff barely contained in my closet, trophies and badges and stuff from high school on my dresser and desk. The TV and my old PlayStation take up almost an entire corner. Nothing is in regulation colors. It’s good to be back, but weird at the same time, the way it was the first time. I don’t think it will ever not really be weird.

I open the blinds and look out through my window. All the lights are off at the Polsens’ place across the yard except for the one in Harper’s old room, but her curtains are closed. I figure I’ll go over in the morning to say hello, maybe ask Mom if I should invite them all over for breakfast or whatever.

Just as I come up with this idea, I see the curtains rustling in the window across the way, and then I see her. She’s in a tank top and shorts, her hair down around her shoulders, obviously getting ready to go to bed. She looks up and spots me at the same time.

I tug open my window and grin at her. Harper’s actually looking pretty good these days, I think to myself as I wave. Harper returns the wave and grins at me. She bites her bottom lip, and opens her own window, leaning out a bit.

“Hey!” She does that shout-whisper thing, and I lean out through my window. “Just get into town?”

“Yeah, Mom said you were here,” I call back, as quietly as I can.

“How long are you here for?”

“A week. You?”

“Same,” Harper says. “Are you tired?”

I shake my head. I suddenly don’t want to let her go without chatting more.

Harper looks over her shoulder and says, “Let’s go to our place before we wake someone up!”