But she turned to look at the window. Outside Atlanta was spreading out in all directions. Familiar skyline, familiar traffic, familiar everything. But I kept setting new ones. And somewhere in there, I forgot to ask myself if I actually wanted what I was chasing.
Darius said nothing. He knew when Amelia wasn't done. It's like she paused, searching for words. You know that feeling when you're so focused on finishing something that you don't stop to check if it's even the right thing anymore. Yeah, that's where I've been for probably the last 2 years.
He merged onto I285 and the traffic thickened around them. A delivery truck cut in front of them and he breaked easily without reacting. Amelia noticed. "You used to curse at bad drivers," she said. "I have a 10-year-old daughter.
You cleaned up your road rage. " Maya informed me very calmly at age seven that my language in the car was creating a hostile environment for passengers. He paused. She used those exact words. Amelia stared at him. She said that at 7:00.
She said that at 7:00. Amelia put a hand over her mouth. Her shoulders shook. She was trying not to laugh and failing. Where does she get that?
Her teachers. She reads a lot. I'm afraid of her most days, honestly. She laughed fully then, and it changed the atmosphere in the truck. The way sunlight changes a room.
Something that had been slightly tight and careful became loose. Tell me about her. Amelia said she's 10. She plays soccer, but she keeps threatening to quit because she doesn't think the coach understands her vision for how the team should play. Her vision, her words.
She's currently writing a letter to the coach with suggested strategic adjustments. Oh my god. She showed it to me last week. It was three pages with footnotes. Amelia laughed so hard she made no sound for several seconds, just her shoulders shaking and her hand pressed to her mouth.
When she came back, her eyes were bright. "She sounds incredible. She's a lot," Darius said. "But yeah, she is. " Something gentled in his voice when he said it involuntary and unguarded. He heard it a fraction of a second too late to pull it back.
Amelia heard it, too. She didn't say anything about it, but she looked at him the way she used to look at him sometimes, like she was reading something he hadn't written yet. "How are you? " she asked. "Real answer, not fine. " "Why can't fine be a real answer? " "Because you've been using it since we were 22, and it has never once been true. " He was quiet for a moment. The traffic eased slightly as they moved further from the airport.
"I'm okay," he said. Business is good. Picked up three new contracts this quarter. Maya's doing well. Neighborhood hasn't changed much.
Darius, what? That's a report. I asked how you are. He glanced at her sideways. She was watching him with steady patience, not pushing, just holding the space open the way she always had.
He exhaled. I'm managing, he said. I'm good at managing. House is running. Business is running.
Maya is running me half the time. But that's part for the course. And you? I wake up. I work.
I take care of my daughter. I fix things for people. He paused. I sleep. I do it again.
Amelia was quiet for a moment. When's the last time you did something just for yourself? He thought about it. That was a problem that he had to think about it. I bought a new set of kitchen knives last month, he said.
That counts as something you did for the house. I use them to cook for Maya. He didn't have a response for that. Amelia turned to look at the window again, but he could see the edge of a small sad smile on her face. "You're still doing it," she said quietly.
"Doing what? " "Taking care of everyone and filing yourself under miscellaneous. " The words landed somewhere unexpected. He didn't answer right away because he wasn't sure what answer was honest. Someone has to keep the machine running, he finally said. Darius, you're not a machine. I know that.
Do you? He pulled off onto the exit ramp toward their neighborhood. The familiar roads opened up around them. The same streets they'd learned to drive on the same houses they'd grown up next to the same trees that were bigger now, but in the same places. It's strange, Amelia said softly.
Being back. Good strange or bad strange? Both. She She watched the houses passing. Everything looks exactly the same, but I feel like a different person than the one who left.
You are? She looked at him. How can you tell you haven't seen me in 6 years? I can tell by the way you walked through that airport. He kept his eyes on the road.
You moved like you knew who you were. You didn't used to. A long silence. That's very specific, she said. It's what I noticed.
Another pause. He was aware that he'd said too much and not enough simultaneously, which was a very specific kind of problem he'd always had around this woman. You know what I noticed? She said, "What? You have gray in your beard. " I am 38 years old.
It looks good. He said nothing. I'm just saying. Amelia continued, and he could hear the smile in her voice. It looks distinguished.
Very don't. I was going to say dignified. Amelia. What? It's a compliment, but she was laughing again quietly.
You are so bad at receiving anything good from anyone. You know that. So I've been told. He pulled up in front of her mother's house. Barbara Brooks was already on the porch bad knee and all sitting in her chair like a queen who had arranged everything exactly as she intended and was now waiting to see it play out.
When the truck stopped, she raised her hand and waved. Amelia looked at her mother, then at Darius. She is unbelievable. She knew I'd say yes. Obviously, she always knows.
Amelia shook her head slowly, but the affection in her face was complete. She's been playing chess with everyone around her since 1974. Darius climbed out and retrieved Amelia's bag from the truck bed. He carried it up the porch steps and set it down. Barbara stood slowly but stood and put her hands on either side of Amelia's face the way mothers do when they've been waiting and worrying and want to see with their own eyes that everything is okay.
You look tired, Barbara said. Mom, I'm not criticizing. I'm observing. She kissed her daughter on the cheek. You're here now.
Then Barbara looked at Darius with warm, deliberate eyes. Thank you, sweetheart. Anytime, Miss Barbara. You'll stay for dinner. I have to get Maya.
Bring her. I made too much food, and you know how she feels about my cornbread. He looked at Barbara, then at Amelia. Amelia was watching him with the same expression from the truck open patient, slightly amused. Not asking, just waiting.
"I'll text you when we're on our way," he said. Barbara smiled like she'd known that was coming. He picked Maya up at 3:15. She climbed into the truck, threw her backpack in the back, and immediately said, "Why are you wearing the good shirt? This is a regular shirt, Dad.
That's the shirt you wore to Mr. Thompson's retirement party. You only wear it when you want to make a specific impression on someone. " She clicked her seat belt. Who's the someone? Darius pulled out of the school pickup line. We're going to Miss Barbara's for dinner, he said.