My Heart's in Alabama

38 - Matt

My dad drives me out to a park about 30 minutes from home. That's where my parents decided my mom and I would meet. They thought a neutral location would be best. Somewhere outside of town and away from prying eyes. It's weird. Them making decisions together. I haven't used the phrase "my parents" in so long, it feels foreign to me. I've gotten used to thinking about them as two separate entities, "my dad" and "my mom," but now, they're a unit again. For now or forever, God only knows.

The cynic in me questions how long it'll last. How long it'll be before she disappears again. Or if she'll bother to show up at all. There's so much I don't know, so much that I don't understand. Everything that happened in the past and everything that will happen in the future is so unclear. I'm hoping against all hope today is the day I'll finally get some answers.

"Your mother just texted me," my dad says. "She's there."

The anxiety and anticipation hits me. My breathing gets heavy as I try not to hyperventilate. The back of my throat dries up like a desert. My eyes dart to our GPS. Applewood Park. Next left. Holy shit. This is it.

"She is?"

"Yep. She's waiting for you, buddy. Are you ready?"

"Um," is all I can manage to get out.

I stare out the windshield, unblinking. We pull into the parking lot and I see her. She's there. Just like she said she was. She's really there.

"Matty?"

I don't answer. I'm in disbelief. This isn't happening, is it? This can't be real. This has to be some sort of dream. Hand to God, I never thought this day would come. I honestly believed with every fiber of my being I'd never see my mom again.

But there she is.

Sitting on a park bench alone.

"Matty?" My dad says again and shakes my shoulder.

"What?" I say somewhat alarmed, thinking something might be wrong. But then I realize, I'd been in a haze and he was breaking me out. "Oh, sorry. Nervous, I guess."

My dad pauses and looks me over with concern in his eyes. He's having second thoughts. Can't blame him though. So am I.
"You don't have to do this, you know. Say the word and I'll turn around right now."

For a brief second, I consider it, but I have no idea when, or if, I'll get this opportunity again. For all I know, a week from now, she could change her mind and decide this whole thing was a huge mistake.

"I'm good," I say to psych myself up. "I'm good. I'm ready. I can do this."

"You sure?"

"Definitely. I got this."

My dad smiles and gives my hair a ruffle.

"Proud of you, bud. Good luck, all right?"

I take a deep breath, put my hand on the door handle, and push it open. Here we go.