Chapter 1
The sign to his home town lit up Jake's eyes. He hadn't been home for over a year. He had been to college in the big city of Indianapolis. As he saw the small sign welcoming him, a sea of old memories washed over him. He remembered his old friends, especially Jane, who was his oldest friend. Jane and Jake had made a pact that they would go to college together, and if they were single before their 26th birthday, they would marry each other. Jake laughed at the thought of this. Then he decided to call Jane. As the dial tone rang, Jake remembered how Jane had to stay back at home because of her mom's cancer treatment. She was always the smarter one. But Jake thought of how she still couldn't beat his drinking record.
The sea of memories were broken by Jane's lively voice on the car's audio system. Jane was full of energy as always. She greeted him with her usual "What's up, loser?" — a nod to Jake's last-minute fumble that lost the school team the championship.
Jake greeted Jane and remarked, "The Jakester has finally come back to town."
Jake had been a lifelong wrestling fan; he loved Rock, Austin, and Cena. Jane groaned at the sound of this.
"You are too old for the fake fighting," she said.
Jake then asked her if she was free tomorrow. He wanted to come home and see Jane's mom.
"How is your mom doing?" he asked.
"Mom and Dad have gone out of town," Jane responded. "But if it's all right, we can meet in the park."
Jake agreed to this idea. They exchanged pleasantries, and the call finally ended as Jake reached the long lane that led to his house.
A few blocks before home, he was thinking of what he would tell his parents when he arrived. They had no idea he was coming. Jake was home a week before he was supposed to be, and he thought of how this vacation could be one of the best in years.
Jake thought of his parents. His dad was the strict parent who always stressed how grades were more important than touchdowns. Jake's dad had helped him and forced him to study. Jake still held a degree of resentment toward him for this. Mark was tall and had the typical dad bod. He wore overshirts and drove a BMW. He had brown hair, which Jake inherited and was the anchor of their home.
His mom, Emily, was the glue of the family. She attended every single one of Jake's games without fail while also running her own flower shop. She was 19 when she had Jake, so she had to give up on college to take care of him and allow Mark to finish his studies. But Emily was not bad looking for 38. Many of Jake's friends had remarked how his mom looked like his older sister, with her blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, and her somewhat fit body. She was his pillar to cry on.
As the house finally came into view, Jake thought of how it was weird that his dad hadn't called him in weeks. It was usual for his dad to have his famous one-minute dad calls. But for the last two weeks, he hadn't called or even texted anything. Jake shrugged this off as just his dad's usual behaviour.
As Jake got closer to his house, he was stunned to see a new car parked in their open garage, in the place of his dad's BMW next to his mom's Ford. It was an old red Honda Civic. Jake was caught off guard by this. After he parked his car, he decided to have a closer look. The car was definitely second-hand. Jake thought of how his dad would rather walk than drive one of these. He looked closely at the car. He saw a Ganesha idol and old takeaway bags. He came to the conclusion that his dad's car had gone to be repaired and he had probably rented a car for a few days.
As he walked back, he saw a coexist sticker. Jake smirked. His dad would be the last person to put that up. Truthfully, Mark was a little racist — especially against those who came from other countries. He had no problems with African Americans, but the others? Well, it's best to say he was not their biggest supporter. Jake and his mom had always opposed this view, but were always too scared to admit it out loud.
Jake unloaded his bag and opened the door with his spare key. The house opened up, but unlike its usual lively self, it was quiet. Jake could even hear the hum of the refrigerator that his mom had complained about a few months back. He headed to his room on the ground floor. As he walked, he noticed a few changes. His dad's boots, which were always left out in the open, were gone. The wedding photo of Mom and Dad had been replaced with a Ganesha statue.
"Wait — a Ganesha statue?" Jake thought. That clearly had not been there when he left. He got closer and analysed it, then put it back, chalking it up as one of his mom's collectibles that she never quite finished. He continued to look around and noticed a few more differences — fresh flowers in the house, and everything neat and clean. Something his mom had wanted for years.
He reached his room and opened the door. Unlike the living room and the hall, his room was exactly the same — filled with posters of Barry Sanders racing a train, a Shaq poster, and his holy grail: his senior college jersey, framed above his bed. Jake put his bag down and fell onto the mattress. He was tired from the long drive. But he couldn't stop thinking about where his parents were.
His thoughts were broken by sounds from the floor above. It started with a squeaking and quickly changed into a banging. Jake was curious and decided to go up. As he climbed the stairs, the sounds grew louder, and Jake knew exactly what they were. It was clearly the sound of some passionate activity on the bed. Jake was a little ashamed but also happy that his parents still had passion in their lives. Then he heard a moan and clearly recognised the voice. It was his mom.
Jake caught his brain before it could process anything further. Some things a son just doesn't need to think about. He turned around and headed back down to give them their privacy. As he went, he heard his mom say things like, "I love you so much," and other words he quickly tuned out. He went back to his room. He could still hear the occasional sounds from above as he drifted off to sleep.
