In some ways I looked forward to spending the summer at home with my family, but in other ways, not. My parents still lived in the same house where I grew up, and whenever I was home from college they treated me like I was still in high school. They didn’t know the guy with the new suave college persona, so they still treated me like the same geeky kid.
My flight was the cheapest I could find, and consequently it arrived at 2:30 in the morning, an hour when not much is going on at the airport. Right before the escalator to go down to baggage claim, I spied my little sister, waiting patiently to give me a ride home. I smiled in spite of myself. She had on a sideways grin, and I knew she’d be happy to see me.
“Hey, Allie,” I said.
“Hey, Jase.”
Allison, the first living, breathing sign of home. I dropped my backpack at her feet and squeezed her in my arms. It was my first hug since Skye, and I relished the closeness to someone so familiar. I held Allie two breaths longer than usual, long enough to get a whiff of her hair. The scent immediately transported me to the bathroom we once shared, always outfitted with the same strawberry shampoo.
“Thanks for coming to get me in the middle of the night,” I said, as I picked up my bag again. We started for the escalator.
“It’s not like I’d be asleep anyway.”
“Allie the night owl. Nice to know some things never change.”
“Yeah, so, about that,” she said. She paused for a half a beat, tantalizing me with what was to come, but frustrating me that all I could hear was the gentle hum of the stairs descending. “I moved out to the guest house.”
“Sweet. A rite of passage now that you’re 18, right?”
The guest house in our parents’ backyard used to be a garage or something, but some former owner closed it in and now it had a bedroom, bathroom, and a little kitchenette with a mini-fridge and a microwave. It was pretty small, but I knew from experience it was liberating to be out there. I’d lived in the guest house myself when I was a senior in high school. Now the baton had been passed to Allie.
“Yeah, pretty much,” Allie said.
We reached the bottom of the escalator and headed toward the baggage carousel. “It’s nice, though, right? Better than being in your old room, right next to mom and dad?”
“Yeah, way better,” she said. “It sucked in the winter because I had to get all bundled up to walk 12 steps to the house for breakfast and stuff. But this time of year it’s fine.”
“So, I guess I’ll be staying, maybe in your old room?” After I’d moved to the guest house, mom and dad had quickly converted my former bedroom into an office.
“Yep, it’s all ready for you.”
“Still right next to mom and dad’s room?”
“It sure is, big brother. Be nice and quiet while you’re in there.”
“If I’m too loud, maybe they’ll kick you out of the guest house so I can stay out there.”
She turned and punched me in the shoulder. Not hard enough to leave a bruise, but pretty hard. It made me smile, even though it was a little painful. “I don’t think that will be happening, now, will it, Jason?”