When we pulled into the driveway of his old childhood home,  already the neighborhood kids started flocking around us. He smiled and hugged all the kids, taking pictures, signing clothing and skin, even posters.

"I'm gonna visit my ma, but when I come back, ya'll better be ready for a game."

That got the kids ready, running to their homes to grab their own balls, their basketball sneakers, and of course to gloat to their parents that they'll be playing with THE Eric York. We stepped up the stairs to the older trailer house of Momma York, or Grandma York. She would always adopt the stray kids in the neighborhood, so she became everyone's mom and grandma. Eric turned the knob to the door and we stepped in.

"Ma, I'm here to visit. I've told you a million times you need to lock that door."

"But if I lock the door then the kids won't come to visit," She called back from the kitchen. 

"You need to be more careful, Ma, I worry about you."

We walk to the back, towards the kitchen, and we see her sipping tea and staring at the oven.

"Hi Momma York," I smile, she looks over and grins back. 

"My favorite white son," She jokes, I laugh and step over to give her a hug. "Your parents keep sending letters for you," she tells me sadly.

"Just send it back to sender and report the wrong addresses. When I'm ready I'll go visit and tell them off."

She nodded and kissed my cheek, making me bend down so she could. Eric came up next and pressed a kiss to her cheek, then engulfed his mother in a hug. I watched with a smile, feeling like we were teenagers again, and I missed it a lot. I step away to find the letters, I find them in a neat pile by the door, all addressed to me, coming from the state prison. I toss them in the trash.  I start cleaning up the rest of her mail, throwing away the spam and scams, keeping the bills, and keeping fan mail from the kids of the neighborhood. Eric finds me and leans on my shoulder, resting his chin on my head to watch what I'm doing. Normally my heart would swoon and cry for love, but right now it's annoying because of how small my area has just become.

"I feel trapped, get off," I shrug my shoulders back, hoping to push him off. He doesn't budge.  "Eric-"

"Where are the letters from your parents?" He reached his hand into the letters and started flipping through them, trapping me more by him.

"Tossed them, there's no point in looking. They'll just be asking for money, or drugs that I sneak in for them," I shrug my shoulders again.

He sighed, then laid his hands on my arms and gave me a small squeeze. I let myself enjoy the comfort of him, letting my mind fall into the fantasy that maybe we'll be together one day, but I know that is never going to happen. So I enjoy the second of comfort, then step away before I get too comfortable and give myself away. 

"It'd be nice if you relied on me a little more," he whispered.

"Let's not go through this again. Come on, you're mom probably wants you a little longer before the kids steal you away."

I shove him gently back into the living room. His mom is already watching us with a smile, a knowing smile. I think she figured out back in high school that I liked him more than friends. She's never said anything, but she always gives me the same look—a look that I understand, a look that Eric won't. I always give a small smile back, never a frown or a grin, I don't want to give her any confirmation. 

He sat beside her,  "Ma, will you please start locking the door? Or at least let me get you a passcode lock. That way, you're safe, and the kids can still come and go."

"I'm completely safe here, I promise. It's not just the young ones who protect me around here. I don't even do my grocery shopping anymore; those kids do it all for me and don't even allow me to pay them. They take care of the yard, they come over for supper, and they are good kids. I'm fine, I promise."

He signed but nodded. "At least allow me to get security cameras set up outside, with those flood lights that come on at night. Something."

"Fine, I don't see why not. It'll also be good for those kids to have a decent light to play at night."

I can't help but laugh. She's always thinking of the kids in the neighborhood. 

"What?" Eric asked with a frown.

I shake my head. Momma York stands and motions me to follow her to the kitchen, so I do. She starts pulling out Tupperware, telling me that we need to take home meals that she's made too much of. I helped her prepare the takeaway, listening to her talking about the neighborhood kids and families, and hearing about kids I watched grow up finally get higher education, and not turn out to be dropouts. It's nice to hear. 

"These kids are lucky to have you," I tell her. "I was lucky to have you. I know I wasn't like the other kids, but I struggled a lot, and you still took me under your wings, and I'll forever be grateful for you, Momma York."

"I love you like one of my own, no matter what you are, who you are, what you look like, what you do, who you love," She gave me a small wink. "I'll always love you and be here for you Liam."

I feel tears prick to my eyes, so I swallow and nod, thanking her and reminding her I love her just as much. She raised me, unlike my actual mother. I'll forever owe her everything.

"What with the waterworks," Eric came around the corner and comforted me. "Ma, what did you do? Why is Liam upset?"

She gave an unsatisfied look. "What did I do? I know you did not just ask me that. Do you understand what you just did?"

I laugh at their bickering finding it so cute how protective Eric is of me, and the defensiveness of his mother. I love coming back here, it always feels like a walk on memory lane, the good ones.