Sean’s body tensed up as a loud slam echoed throughout the house. Quickly his ears picked up on the hushed murmurs of his parents, their bickering seeping under the door.

            “Jesus Terry, at least look a little bit happy that your son is home”

“Of course I’m god damn happy Clara but we can’t just assume everything’s gonna be the same as before. Can’t even give him a hug without smelling the war on him”

​

“He’s been out there for years. Seen God knows what and you can’t even pretend like everything’s normal for one second for him!” She fought to keep her voice quiet, but her anger threatened her, her face red with anger and exhaustion.

​

The water in the sink sloshed as Clara threw the sponge in, vigorously scrubbing at another plate. Terry leaned up against the fridge, his brow furrowed in frustration, his hands grabbing at his head to ease the headache.

​

“You know it’s not easy on him either” Clara’s softly spoken words floated to Terry who replied with a silent nod.

“But that moment, when I first saw him this afternoon” Clara paused her thought for a moment, pulling her hands out of the sink and resting them on the counter, hunched over. “It was like he wasn’t even there. Like a stranger in my driveway. All dressed up as my son.”

​

The snow outside had gathered in speed outside the kitchen window, the taps threatening the break the sombre mood that had settled over the kitchen. Terry took a deep breath in and let his eyes fall to the floor.

​

“At least our boy came home.”