Daryl and his friends had no chance to catch up to me, which was for the best, since I really didn't want to be responsible for taking his money and sending him to the hospital all in one night.
As I pulled out of the parking lot, my cell phone buzzed in my pocket. Very few people had this number, and those that did weren't likely to use it at this time of night… unless….
My hotel in Portland, Oregon was close enough that it made more sense to go straight there than try to find someplace safe to pull over. Not to mention it was freezing outside. Ten minutes later I had settled into my hotel room and checked the messages on my phone.
Five calls, and all from the last person on earth I wanted to speak to.
I selected the last incoming call and pressed the green call button on my phone. The first ring cut off as a familiar voice answered.
"Son, is that you?"
I sat on the cardboard-like bed and pulled off my boots. "Yeah, Dad, it's me. What's up? Is Mom okay?"
"She's fine. But, Dean…. " His voice trailed off as if he didn't know how to say what he had to say next. Except my dad always knew what to say.
"Dad, what happened? Is Dean okay?" Real fear gripped my chest. I hadn't seen my younger brother since I left home two years ago, but we still talked every chance we got. I may have been a shitty brother, but I loved him.
"There's been an accident, Son. You need to come home. Dean's in trouble."
It took four hours to get home, and I thanked the gods that be that I hadn't been back East or in the mid-West when the call came in. Pulling onto the vast estates that my parents owned, I imagined what they would think when they saw me.
It had been two years, and I'd changed a lot. I also smelled like a night at the bar.
I pulled off my helmet and attached it to my bike, then walked the long path to the front door and rang the bell. It may have been my family home, but it wasn't my home anymore.
My sister, Tammy, met me at the door and pulled me into a hard hug. "Oh my God, Derek, where have you been? We've missed you." She stepped away to look at me and smiled. "I've missed you. How could you just abandon your little sister like that?"
"Tam, we talk every week. It's not like I disappeared." But I had to admit, it felt good to see her again. She'd grown a lot. Last time I saw her she'd just turned sixteen and had been a late bloomer. Now she was a young woman, and she'd definitely bloomed. A growl formed at the base of my throat at the thought of any man touching her, but Dean, her twin brother, could look after her. They'd always been close. I was only four years older, but it felt like a lot more, especially after I left.
"What happened? Is Dean okay?"
Her smile at seeing me faded, as she struggled to hold in the tears forming in her eyes. "No, no he's not. Come in. Dad wants to talk to you, I'm sure, and Mom is dying to see you."
She took my backpack from me. "They're in the library. I'll put this in your room."
"I still have a room?" I'd assumed they'd turned it into a gym, or a scrapbooking room for my mom.
"Of course you still have a room." She rolled her eyes and for a moment looked like the sixteen-year-old girl I'd left behind. "This is your home. Your family. You'll always have a place here, whether you want it or not."
Her words cut at me, though I didn't think she meant them to. She and Dean could never understand why I left, why I didn't want to join the family business and become Dad's mini-me. Sometimes, I had a hard time understanding it myself.
David O'Conner commanded a room, whether alone and casual or amidst hundreds of people in formal wear. He pushed his plush leather chair back from his mahogany desk and stood when I walked in. "Derek, you've come home."
My mother, Lauren O'Conner, the woman who had turned down a New York modeling career to become a literature professor, replaced a copy of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales that she'd been perusing and smiled up at me. "My boy."
They'd aged since I'd seen them last, but they wore it well. A creeping of grey hair at his temples gave my father a distinguished look, and my mother, always a beauty, still carried herself with a grace and elegance that few women could mimic.
She put her delicate hand on my face. "Have you found what you've been looking for, out there on the road?"
I shrugged. "Maybe life isn't about the answers, but rather the adventure."
"Always the wandering philosopher." She shook her head, but didn't lose her smile. "I'll let you and your father catch up. Come tell me of these adventures when you have a few moments to spare, will you?"
I kissed her cheek, still smooth despite the fine lines forming around her eyes. "Of course. It's good to see you again, Mom."