Chapter 55 After
MIA
Caleb did not leave right away.
He stayed at the kitchen table even after the plates were empty, like standing up would require him to move into something he was not ready for yet.
The apartment had settled into its late evening version of quiet. The kind that did not feel empty, just finished for the day.
Mom was still asleep in the bedroom.
Jamie had come in earlier, eaten quickly, and gone back out again with his phone in one hand and his bag half open like he was already thinking about the next thing before finishing the current one.
The snow outside kept falling in a steady, unimportant way. It made the streetlight outside the window look softer than usual.
I stacked the dishes slowly, giving the moment time to pass without pushing it.
Caleb sat with his forearms resting on the table.
Not tense.
Just still.
Like his body had decided it was allowed to stop moving now that the game part of the day was over.
After a while he spoke.
“My dad used to come to games sometimes,” he said.
I paused but did not turn fully.
“Not every game,” he added. “Just enough that I remember it clearly.”
I turned the tap off and faced him.
He was not looking at me. He was looking at the edge of the table like it had something to say back.
“Was he different then,” I asked.
Caleb thought about it for a second longer than I expected.
“I was,” he said.
That was all.
But it made sense in a way that did not need more explanation.
I leaned back against the counter.
Caleb kept going anyway.
“I used to think if I played well enough, he would stay in that mood longer after the game,” he said. “The good one. The proud one. Whatever it was.”
He paused.
“But it always ended the same way.”
He did not sound angry.
That was the part that made it harder.
Just matter of fact.
Like he had already gone through the entire memory enough times that there was no surprise left in it.
I dried my hands slowly.
“That is a hard thing to grow up around,” I said.
He nodded once.
“I did not know it was happening while it was happening,” he said. “I just thought that was normal.”
The kitchen stayed quiet after that.
Not uncomfortable.
Just full.
Like something had been placed on the table that neither of us were touching yet.
I picked up the towel and folded it once without needing to.
Caleb glanced toward the hallway briefly.
“My phone call today,” he said.
I waited.
“I did not expect it to feel like that,” he added.
I stayed quiet.
He continued anyway.
“It was like he was talking to someone he thought I still was,” he said. “Not who I actually am now.”
I nodded slightly.
That made sense.
People did that sometimes.
Kept talking to versions of you that stopped existing without telling them first.
Caleb leaned back a little in the chair.
“He said he was proud of me,” he added.
The words sat between us for a moment.
Not dramatic.
Just heavy in a quiet way.
I understood why it stayed with him.
Some things only become complicated when they arrive late.
I leaned against the counter again.
“You do not have to do anything with that right away,” I said.
“I am not sure there is anything to do,” he replied.
That was honest.
Not confused.
Just stuck somewhere in the middle of it.
Before I could answer, the hallway creaked.
Jamie came out again, hair slightly damp like he had just washed his face or stood under water too long without thinking about it.
He stopped when he saw Caleb still there.
Looked between us.
Then at the table.
“Did I miss something serious,” he asked.
“No,” I said.
Caleb said at the same time.
“Yes.”
Jamie nodded like both answers were acceptable.
“Okay,” he said.
He walked to the fridge, opened it, stared inside like it might offer clarity, then closed it again.
“I brought tape back,” he said.
“For what,” I asked.
“My stick,” he said. “And also my life apparently.”
That pulled a small laugh from Caleb. Not forced. Just short.
Jamie leaned against the counter.
“Mom okay,” he asked.
“She is asleep,” I said.
“Good,” he said. “She looked like she was running on low battery earlier.”
He grabbed a drink and stayed standing there for a second.
Then nodded toward the hallway.
“I am going back in,” he said.
He paused at the door.
“Try not to overthink everything,” he added casually.
“I will try,” I said.
“That means you will fail,” he replied.
Then he disappeared.
The apartment went quiet again.
But not the same quiet as before.
This one had shifted slightly.
Less heavy.
More normal.
Caleb stood up after a while.
“I should go,” he said.
I nodded.
He did not move immediately.
He stayed by the table for a second longer like he was checking something internal before deciding to leave.
Then he walked to the door.
Stopped again.
Turned back.
“I do not know what tomorrow is supposed to feel like,” he said.
I thought about it for a second.
“Probably like today,” I said. “Just with more people watching.”
That got a faint exhale from him.
Almost a laugh.
He stepped back toward me.
Not rushed.
Just close.
He reached for my hand.
I gave it without thinking.
His grip was steady.
Not tight.
Just there.
“I am trying,” he said.
“I know,” I said.
We stayed like that for a moment.
No pressure.
No meaning attached to it that had to be solved tonight.
Then he let go.
“I will see you tomorrow,” he said.
“Same time tomorrow,” I replied.
He nodded once.
“Same time tomorrow,” he repeated.
Then he left.
The door closed softly behind him.
No final feeling.
Just end of visit.
I stood there for a moment after.
The kitchen looked the same as it had earlier.
Dishes still in the sink.
Light still on above the counter.
Mom still asleep.
Jamie still in his room.
Everything in place.
But something had shifted anyway.
Not big.
Just enough to notice if you were the one standing in it.
I finished washing the dishes.
Drying them one by one.
Slow.
Normal.
Then turned off the light above the sink.
And the apartment went back to being just an apartment again.