Ch.95Welcome Home! (2)

#095

Beacon Hill in Boston is an old district where most of the residential and commercial buildings were constructed in 19th-century architectural styles, and it’s also a place where you can see gas street lamps that still function perfectly even in the 21st century.

And Beacon Hill is where Dexter’s house is located.

‘I’ve finally made it.’

As Dexter, who was briefly recalling how many things had happened until he reached this house, was about to grab the worn and smooth doorknob covered with fingerprints, he realized something.

He had forgotten the most important thing.

‘The key.’

He didn’t have the house key in his possession.

Of course, with Dexter’s build, he could have easily broken through the door with a body slam, but who in the world would enter their own home that way?

Thanks to this, Dexter was now recalling memories he had forgotten until now.

‘I think I gave the key to the elderly neighbor lady before going to foster care…?’

At that time, Dexter, who was a minor, had given the house key to the next-door elderly woman who had helped him a lot during his parents’ funeral.

‘Ah, right. Grandma Selma. I told her I would come back for the key when I became an adult.’

The problem was that Grandma Selma had been well over 70 years old at that time.

Since it was lunchtime, he wasn’t sure if anyone would be home, but Dexter went to the neighboring house and carefully pressed the doorbell.

-Ding dong.

“Is anyone home?”

When Dexter spoke in a voice that was neither too high nor too low, the sound of someone slowly walking could be heard, and then the front door opened.

“Who is it?”

As soon as the front door opened, what appeared was a young woman who looked somewhat familiar from Dexter’s perspective.

“Ah, yes. Is this… Grandma Selma’s house?”

“Pardon? Grandmother passed away five years ago.”

His premonition was correct.

‘As I thought.’

Grandma Selma had been elderly even back then and was not in good health.

As Dexter made a regretful expression, the woman narrowed her eyes and stared at him.

Dexter was tall and quite large in build, making him a man that anyone would remember after seeing him once.

Because of this, the young woman didn’t seem to have seen Dexter recently, but she definitely felt a familiarity as if she had seen him somewhere before.

The young woman didn’t hesitate and asked directly.

“Have I seen you somewhere before? Not recently, but a long time ago.”

“Excuse me?”

Dexter stared at the woman who was narrowing her eyes at him.

“The last time I came to Boston was 15 years ago, so… huh?”

Dexter also felt a sense of déjà vu looking at the young woman.

‘Brown hair, round face, seems a bit younger than me, a girl who might live next door…’

As memories that Dexter had forgotten until now gradually unfolded, he remembered the little girl who was Grandma Selma’s granddaughter and who had been treated like a little sister by Dexter, who was an only child.

“No way, Mila? That crybaby Mila who was always whining and crying? Wow, have you been living in Boston all this time?”

As soon as Mila heard the nickname “crybaby,” she remembered the name of the neighbor boy who was the only one to call her by that nickname.

“…Dexter? Is that you?”

When Dexter nodded, Mila hurriedly went inside the house and shouted loudly.

“Mom, Mom! Dex! Dexter is back!”

“What did you say?”

While Dexter stood there bewildered, not knowing what was happening, a familiar-looking middle-aged woman appeared from inside the house with Mila.

“Oh, my goodness! Dexter. You’re alive?”

“Aunt Lily!”

With widened eyes, Dexter hugged Lily, who was gaping at him in surprise.

Meeting people who knew him from his childhood, Dexter found himself beaming with a broad smile without even realizing it.

“Oh my, this is wonderful! Do you have any idea how much Mother and I searched for you? My goodness… it’s been well over 10 years!”

There had been people who had been desperately looking for him.

Dexter looked at the mother and daughter with warm eyes and said with a light smile:

“Exactly 15 years. Aunt Lily, it’s been so long. You too, Mila.”

“You haven’t had lunch yet, have you? Come in first. What in the world happened?”

Since the 15-year-old Dexter had been shorter and thinner than his peers, the mother and daughter were surprised to see Dexter’s sturdy build.

Finding himself unexpectedly joining the mother and daughter for lunch, Dexter ate Lily’s lasagna, which he remembered having once or twice as a child, while answering their questions.

“You were kidnapped?”

“By a human trafficking organization. I was sold and taken all the way to South America, and was finally rescued a few years ago. Wow, it’s been so long since I’ve had your lasagna, Aunt Lily.”

As Dexter pointed to the lasagna, Mila tilted her head as if she didn’t understand.

“If you were rescued a few years ago, why didn’t you come looking for us then?”

Dexter, who had lasagna in his mouth, pointed to his mouth as if to indicate he needed a moment to answer, then swallowed and said:

“…I was in a witness protection program. You know, I had to testify.”

“That’s right, that makes sense. I know someone who went into a witness protection program. They said they weren’t allowed to contact people they knew before.”

When Lily affirmed Dexter’s lie, Mila also accepted it lightly as if that explained everything.

“So have you found a job now?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes. I work near Las Vegas. I’m a correctional officer at a private prison affiliated with a security company.”

“My, that’s practically on the opposite side of the country! But I’m glad, Dex. It’s not easy to find a decent job these days, is it? Just look at Mila here—it’s quite a mess. She’s about to graduate from college and still can’t figure out what to do…”

As the somewhat chatty Lily pointed at Mila, who was staying at home under the pretext of job hunting, Mila burst out in anger.

“Mom! There’s nothing you won’t say in front of him!”

“What? Am I saying anything wrong? Dexter is working hard at his job, and you should learn from him.”

“That’s not the point—why is the arrow suddenly pointing at me?!”

Dexter chuckled as he watched the bickering mother and daughter.

After telling the two about what had happened to him—half truth, half lies—Dexter sat on the sofa, casually sipping a drink while hearing directly from Mila about the things he had missed.

“I’m telling you, Mr. White fell flat on his back, then got up with his face all red and had the nerve to say, ‘This banana isn’t mine?'”

“Hahaha! Wow, I can’t believe I missed that!”

Dexter roared with laughter at Mila’s story, and Mila laughed lightly along with him.

“Oh, I thought my stomach was going to burst… By the way, where’s Aunt Lily?”

“Huh? You’re right. Where did she go?”

As the two looked around, Lily reappeared with a faint smile.

“Mom, where did you go?”

“I went to get this to return to Dexter.”

“For me?”

Lily held out an object in her hand and said:

“It was in Mother’s jewelry box.”

What Lily offered was a brass key.

And that key was very familiar.

“Ah.”

‘When I turn 18, I’ll definitely come back for it.’

It was the house key he had entrusted to Grandma Selma with firm resolve.

“You had it?”

“Of course. This isn’t just any item. I couldn’t treat it carelessly.”

Dexter took the key from Lily and said with a smile:

“Thank you. Thank you for keeping it safe all this time.”

“Oh, please. Should we be thanked for something like this?”

Lily laughed softly at Dexter’s words.

Dexter’s mother, Sarah, and Lily were more than just neighbors—they were friends.

Therefore, to Lily, Dexter was her friend’s son.

She couldn’t treat her friend’s son carelessly, especially if that friend had already passed away.

Lily, who was reminded of Sarah after a long time, sat next to Dexter with moist eyes and gently patted him, saying:

“I’m glad we met, even if it took this long. I hope we can keep in touch from now on.”

Feeling a lump in his throat from Lily’s kind words, Dexter put the key in his pocket and gave Lily a gentle hug.

“…Yes. I’ll contact you often.”

After chatting with the mother and daughter about this and that, it was eventually time to say goodbye. Dexter stood up and said at the front door with a light greeting:

“I’ll visit Grandma Selma’s grave to pay my respects later.”

“…Yes. Mother would be happy about that.”

After saying goodbye to Lily, Dexter looked at the smiling Mila and said:

“Crybaby, you listen to your aunt well.”

“I’m not a child, you know.”

Mila chuckled and, nestling into Dexter’s embrace, said in a small voice:

“I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me too.”

Having people who welcome you back is one of life’s greatest blessings.

For Dexter, who had often dealt with people trying to use him or looking at him with malice, this moment was very precious.

After spending a long time in a tearful reunion with the two at the front door, Dexter finally said his last goodbye and left Lily’s house.

Dexter immediately looked at his own house attached to the left.

He approached the green wooden door, which was neat but had slightly peeling paint, and ran his hand over it once.

“I never thought it would take 15 years.”

Taking out the key he had received from Lily from his pocket and inserting it into the lock, Dexter hesitated for a moment.

Opening the door to a house that no one had entered for 15 years.

The significance of that action was making Dexter’s palms sweat.

But he couldn’t just stand there blankly in front of the door forever.

After wiping the sweat from his palms on his pants, Dexter finally opened the front door.

“Huh.”

It was just as it had been.

Objects with 15 years’ worth of dust settled on them.

The first thing to greet him as he opened the door was a pile of letters on the floor.

There were bills addressed to Sarah and Grant, and even wedding invitations that they had never received.

‘I’ll need to set aside a day to clean this place up.’

Dexter gathered the pile of bills and placed them on the shoe rack, then looked around.

The house, which had not allowed anyone’s entry, was quiet and smelled of old dust.

A faded brown coat that Grant had hung on the hat rack next to the front door, saying he needed to take it to the dry cleaner soon.

Sarah’s sticky notes pinned to a cork board, listing items to buy and things not to forget, saying she had been quite forgetful lately.

A family photo frame on the table showing elementary school-aged Dexter with Sarah and Grant, who were about the same age as Dexter is now.

The house was frozen in time, 15 years ago.

Dexter went straight up to the second floor and entered the room opposite his own.

It was his parents’ room—Sarah and Grant’s.

“……”

It was still the same.

A cozy room that seemed somewhat disorganized at first glance but had Sarah’s own systematic organization.

Though it was difficult to touch anything, Dexter noticed a large box among the various items on the shelf.

“Ah, this.”

On the dark brown wooden box, which had been finished elegantly, there was a metal nameplate that read “1946.”

He remembered Grant being scolded by Sarah for buying such an expensive item without permission.

‘Mom went crazy and hit Dad on the back really hard, didn’t she?’

Grant had smiled at Dexter even while being hit by Sarah, saying he would take it out when there was something really important.

‘What was it that made him do that?’

When Dexter opened the wooden box, inside was a whiskey bottle labeled “1946” in red letters, a scroll, and a small note attached to the whiskey bottle.

The whiskey and scroll were originally fitted perfectly in the frame, but the note was clearly something Grant had attached.

[To celebrate Dexter’s adulthood, G.]

“Huh.”

After checking the note’s contents, Dexter unconsciously let out an exclamation.

Judging by the expensive whiskey and the attached note, it seemed Grant had bought it to celebrate Dexter’s coming of age in advance.

‘Did he know I would check this?’

It seemed his father had known that his son would enter his parents’ room and look around.

‘Was I like that when I was young?’

Although he had caused a lot of trouble, Dexter couldn’t remember specifically going into his parents’ room. After pondering for a while, he gave up on the thought.

‘Anyway, thanks to this note, I can understand Dad’s feelings.’

Dexter remembered that Grant had always liked whiskey and other spirits, but he hadn’t expected him to buy such an expensive whiskey for him.

“We could have drunk it together ten years ago.”

It was regrettable.

But not enough to make him sob.

Time had passed, and the feeling was more of longing and slight regret than sadness.

Dexter held the whiskey bottle up to the setting sunlight.

The sun captured in the whiskey glowed with an amber color.

After carefully placing the whiskey box in his bag, Dexter gathered family photos, albums, and a few other items from the house before heading outside.

‘I’ll come back soon.’

When he did, it would be with a different mindset than now.