The Color of Home: A Novel by Rich Marcello Read Free Book Online

happened? Why did she drink so much? And go so fast? Sick to her stomach, she pulled over about a mile down the road in an empty parking lot, opened the door and vomited for a long time. Later, back on the road, she reversed direction and drove the remaining fifteen or so miles home, sobbing for the first time since the accident.
• • •
    “How do you feel?” Nick asked.
    “Happy. And you?”
    “Happy.”
    Though he’d answered truthfully that he felt happy, “home” better described the feeling. Not home the way he remembered growing up, before his father died—colored with happiness and innocence. No, in bed, naked, with Sassa draped over him, this was a different kind of home—colored with happiness, yes, but without innocence. As he drifted toward sleep, an old conversation he’d had with his mother surfaced. Strange timing, but he surfed it anyway.
    One night he came home late after spending time with a girl. After his father died, he’d hooked up with a number of different girls within a short time; some he cared about, but most helped him numb, mask his pain. When he crept in the front door, his mother, perched on her favorite living room chair, was waiting for him. He brushed her off with a comment about being dead tired as he headed off to his bedroom. Stopping him after only a few steps, she asked him to visit with her in the living room.
    “I’ve been thinking,” she said.
    An opening like that historically meant trouble for Nick. He braced himself.
    His mother continued in a calm voice and asked if he had any place to get advice on relationships, given his father’s absence. She didn’t want to embarrass him. She would keep their conversation short. She only had one piece of advice for him regarding women. “After you’re done and she is as well, make sure you pay attention to how you both feel.”
    He made an effort to jump up and leave. His mother, with a raised-eyebrow look he knew too well, froze him in his seat.
    “Love is a tricky thing,” she went on, “and is often confused by sex instead of informed by it, but there’s this short time right after you’re both done when you can ask yourself how you feel. If you’re restless, discontent, or feel alone, then you haven’t found the right girl yet, but if you feel happy and feel like you're home, then she’s the right girl for you.
    “Now here’s the tricky part. There will be times in your life when you feel at home but your girlfriend may not. During these times, it will be hardest for you to see clearly, exactly because you feel most at home. So use all of your strength and set aside the feeling of home, if only for a moment. Then make sure you look hard and take her in from that vantage point. Above all, trust your instincts. If she’s the right one, you’ll know. If she’s not, let her go and be thankful that she was an almost.”
    The rules of almost. It remained the single best piece of advice Nick’s mother ever gave him.
    “One hundred dollars for your thoughts,” Sassa said. She rolled over on top of him and pinned his hands against the bed.
    “Inflation, I see.”
    “You know, we live in strange economic times, so the amount isn’t that far off.”
    “I’ve never felt this way before,” he said.
    “And is that a good thing?”
    “Hell, yeah.”
    He watched her for signs that she felt the same way, but not that closely. Scared and afraid of what the truth might be, he ignored his mother’s advice.

CHAPTER 3
    On a hot, humid night in August, Nick stayed late at his music studio. He made up an excuse about working on deadline for a new reggae client, but in reality he needed space to think. Why did he lie? Why didn’t he tell Sassa the truth? He sank into his chair, placed his feet on the mixing console, popped a Diet Pepsi, and rehashed the past several months. Sweat carpet-bombed the top of the Diet Pepsi can. A breeze, gathering cargo from a bakery across the street, infused the humidity with the smell