Brando

brANDO

I don’t know why, but I’ve walked back and forth past the front door of the address I’ve been looking for about five times now.

It’s not exactly nerves, even though I don’t know how she’ll react to seeing me again. Something has kind of got me spooked about this entire idea, though. Maybe it’s because I’m not sure that she doesn’t have that guy from the performance living with her, and I never did give much thought to how I would take a life if I needed to.

Luckily for me, I’m strong enough to do whatever needs to be done physically. Mentally, I’m a bag of fucking nerves.

I round the corner of the block for what seems like the billionth time, her building looming at the other end, and rake a hand back through my hair. What is there to be nervous about? She’ll come whether she wants to or not, I tell myself as confidently as I can.

On my sixth actual trip around the proverbial sun, I walk straight up the path to the front doors of the building, then pull one open. As I step inside, I glance around the large hall, and I notice the steel-doored mailboxes lined up neatly against the far wall.

Walking over, I patiently begin to read through the last names, smiling when I finally see hers. I run a finger across it as I take a deep, steadying breath, then glance around the hall. I don’t know how many times I sent that letter here until I finally got the right number, but the more it got sent back as undeliverable, the more determined I became to make sure she got it.

I tell myself to just go for it.

The worst that can happen is that she doesn’t remember me or remembers me but refuses to go with me. I’ll just have to take her.

Either way, I’m interested to see what she looks like as an adult, and I’m hoping that, at the very least, she’s curious about me, too.

I walk to the end of the hallway and push open one of the glass double doors, then grunt when it doesn’t give away. What the fuck? I push again, only to have it shake slightly but still keep me out.

Frustrated, I slap one of the glass panes, then glance to my right where I see a small, square box with numbers on it.

I roll my eyes but understand now. Just because the front doors are open, it doesn’t mean that the ones that lead to the apartments are.

Okay, so I’ll just wait.

I walk back toward the front doors of the building, wondering if it’s best to linger outside instead of in, but then notice a couple of chairs hidden in a corner under the ever watchful eye of a camera.

I made the right decision because I’m pretty sure if there’s one camera here that I didn’t see until just now, there have to be more, and trying to pull the doors off the hinges just to get to her apartment probably would have made this trip home memorable for all the wrong reasons.

I want to stay as calm as possible, but knowing that she could potentially be just a few feet away down the other end of the hallway is making me anxious. I sit down and dig my fingernails into my knees to keep them from jumping.

When Parker finally decides to walk out of those doors, I have to be relaxed and collected.

I’ve only got one shot at this, and I can’t mess it up.