Chapter 5

5

STERLING

O n my drive around the farm, I went everywhere but the bakery. I hadn't been in there since my mom had died and I didn't plan on ever going there again. Frankly, I didn't even know if it was still open.

Given the state of everything else around here, I wouldn't have been surprised to learn that the bakery had closed its doors for good. It would be a travesty, but again, I wasn't eager to find out and stir up old memories.

Eventually, when the sun started sinking behind the mountains and I'd driven to every nook and cranny of the property, I headed back to the house. As I parked, I noticed there was a single light on inside now, in the kitchen.

My heart squeezed at the sight of that one light on in the whole house. It'd always been such a warm and welcoming place when my mother had been alive, but now, it seemed almost eerie. My mother had died but it was my father who had become a ghost, haunting the dark halls.

When I opened the door and climbed out of the truck, a cold breeze sliced through me and I shivered, wondering when the hell the farm had become such a gloomy place. Leaves rustled and dropped to the ground, adding to the thick layer already there, and I sighed, slid my hands into my pockets, bunched my shoulders against the chill, and I jogged to the front door.

I didn't bother knocking this time, simply pushing it open and gladly shutting it behind me. Once again, I was struck by the lack of pleasant scents in the house. Instead of Mom's cooking, it smelled like Dad had burnt whatever he was making for dinner and my stomach turned to stone.

Ignoring the dark hallways and rooms leading off the foyer, I followed the glow of light emanating from the kitchen and paused in the door. Right there, not ten feet away from me, my dad sat at our kitchen table, a solitary figure at the head of a table that could accommodate eight with ease.

He barely looked up when I walked in, but for the brief second that his gaze met mine, I saw how closed off he was. It was almost like there was no life left in him, but he motioned toward the stove anyway.

"There's soup in the pot. It'll be cold by now."

"Yeah. Thanks," I said, bypassing the stove and the counters to join him at the table. I considered offering him my hand, but his gaze had already returned to his bowl of soup and he was watching as he dunked a thick slice of bread in it.

"Hi, Dad," I said as I sat down, folding my arms on the table and waiting for him to look at me again. "How are you?"

He shrugged his narrow shoulders, so much smaller and thinner now than they used to be. On the other hand, much closer now than I had been this afternoon, I realized that his whole body was much thinner now than it used to be.

His cheeks were sallow and gaunt, his clothes at least two sizes too big and his hair wiry and silver now that the ballcap was gone. More pain streaked through me. Dad and I hadn't really seen eye to eye since Mom had died, but it still hurt that he looked as downtrodden as the property.

"I'm fine," he grunted. "You remember where your bedroom is, right?"

"Of course."

He nodded, reached into his pocket for a dirty balled-up handkerchief, and dabbed at the corners of his mouth. "Good. There are sheets in the linen closet. They might be musty, so you'll have to do something about that. I didn't have time to clean for you, boy."

I nodded. "I didn't expect you to. I'll take care of it. We should talk about?—"

"I've got more work to do," he said, pushing his bowl away and rising slowly out of his chair. "Make yourself at home if you want."

Just like that, my chance to finally speak to him was gone. He shuffled out of the house and I felt the rift between us gaping like a festering wound. I had no idea what to say to bring him back here, both physically and mentally.

He'd barely touched his soup, the bowl still almost full and the slice of bread only half eaten, and worry started gnawing at my gut. Obviously, he'd been skipping more meals than just dinner, considering the amount of weight he'd lost. No wonder he's a zombie. He's starving himself.

God, Mom must be furious up there.

I pictured her watching us now, disappointed and afraid for how things were going.

Swallowing hard past a suddenly bone-dry patch in my throat, I groaned and stood up. My dad clearly didn't want to talk and I hated the idea of being stuck in this dusty, dark, quiet house all night, so I strode back to the foyer and grabbed the keys to Eric's truck.

It was a good bet that he'd be at Maverick's, the local bar in town. If I was lucky, I'd run into him there and we could catch up over a few drinks instead of me wallowing around here by myself all night.

Maverick's was right on the corner of the main drag, and while the parking lot was only half-full, there was country music blasting inside and I could see people laughing and playing pool inside through the windows. Feeling instantly more at ease, I got out of the truck and walked in. Eric was sitting at the bar.

He was laughing with some people I recognized vaguely, but as he turned to reach for his drink, he spotted me. His eyes widened in surprise and he grinned and stood up. "Sterling, my long-lost brother! I wasn't expecting to see you out tonight. You here to drink or you just picking up some food? You know what? I don't care. You're having a beer with me."

"Don't worry, I'm here to drink," I said, nodding politely at the guys he'd been with. They nodded back.

"Hell yeah!" He tipped back the rest of his beer and calling out for three more. "Guys, you remember Sterling North, right?"

"Sure," the first one said, extending his hand toward me. "Jerry. It's good to see you again, dude."

I shook with him, drawing a complete blank on the name. I'd thought hearing it might spark a memory of who he was, but it hadn't. Steve, the other guy, didn't spark any memories either. Allisburg was a tiny podunk town but I didn't know everyone in it, even back when I had been one of them.

Shaking it off, I happily accepted the beer Eric handed over and then he and I said goodbye to the others and headed out to the enclosed patio. We found an empty table and sat across from each other. Breeze ruffled my hair, but now it felt energizing instead of cold. It took away some of the gloom from earlier.

Eric cocked his head at me. "Your reunion with your old man didn't go so well, huh?"

"Nope." I gripped my beer, brought it to my lips, and savored the burn of the bubbles as I poured a generous amount of the liquid down my throat. "Did you manage to finish that car you were working on?"

"Just in the nick of time. You know I work better under pressure." He suddenly waved at someone behind me before pointing at my head and grinning at whoever it was. "Jakey! Look who's here, man."

I twisted around to see Jake Garrison standing in the open doors, gaping at me before he recovered and strode over to us. Despite the years it'd been since I'd last seen the guy, he looked exactly the same and I smirked, getting up to offer him my hand.

"Good to see you, Barbie. How've you been?"

He scoffed down laughter as he shook his blond head at me. "No one calls me that anymore, bro. When'd you get in, man?"

"This afternoon," I said after shaking his hand and sitting down again.

Jake grabbed the other beer that had been sitting untouched in front of Eric. Clearly they'd been planning on meeting up tonight. Jake looked at me, his sparkling blue eyes less friendly now than they used to be.

"It must be a culture shock being back here after spending so much time in the big city, huh?" he said as he tapped his nails against the bottle. "How's it been? Life in the Big Apple, I mean."

"Yeah, it's alright," I said, trying to process that I was really here, with these two guys who were probably still like brothers while I was now the odd man out. "It's busy and loud, but there's never a dull moment."

Eric laughed. "I bet. I hope you're ready to rediscover relaxation and boredom now you're here, man."

I opened my mouth to respond, but Jake spoke before I could. "Fuck boredom. I have a nursery to paint and he was the class president. He can take my spot on the planning committee now that he's decided to grace us with his presence."

Surprised at the hint of bitterness in his tone, I did a double-take at the fact that he was painting a nursery. "Excuse me? Are you doing that as part of a construction job for your dad or?—"

"No, man." Eric laughed. "It's not his dad's company anymore. It's his, and Rachel's pregnant. It's their first baby."

"Our?" Jake narrowed his eyes at him jokingly. "Is there something I should know about you and my wife?"

Eric shrugged. "Sure. She's agreed to let me be the cool uncle, which makes it mine too."

As they joked about it, I blinked hard. I'd completely forgotten that Jake had married Rachel. It'd been just a couple years after I'd started at my current firm and I hadn't wanted to leave town for the wedding. The partners wouldn't understand.

"I could be a cool uncle too," I offered, wondering if I was ever even going to meet the kid. The three of us used to be so damn close, but I was definitely an outsider now while they seemed tighter than ever. "How was the wedding? I'm sorry I missed it, boys. It just wasn't a good time for me."

Jake tensed, his jaw clenching as he averted his gaze and looked away. Eric swiped his tongue across his lips, silent for a beat before he gave me a tight smile. "Yeah, we got that. It was great. It was also three years ago. We've moved onto the baby talk now."

"Right," I said slowly. "When is it due?"

" She is due within the next six weeks," Jake said. "It's a girl."

"Wow. Congratulations." I reeled at the revelation. "A girl, huh? That's awesome. Rachel must be thrilled."

Out of all of us, I never thought Jake would be the first to become a dad. I also didn't think that when the first of us had a baby, it would be planned or with a wife, but it seemed Jake, for one, had really grown up.

"We both are," Jake said before bringing his hardened gaze back to mine. He took a long pull of his beer before he sighed and let go of whatever had been bothering him as Eric started talking once more.

"If you ask me, Rachel's the most thrilled about those lattes Daph keeps making her at the bakery every day," Eric said, shocking the pants off me.

The only bakery I knew about around here was the one my mother used to run. "Whoa. Daphne's working at the bakery? At my family farm?"

Eric and Jake exchanged a look while more shock radiated through me. They both knew what that place had meant to my mother and, by extension, what it still meant to me. Now I had to learn that it was still open, that Eric's little sister worked there, and that Jake's wife went there every day for lattes.

Life really had moved on in Allisburg without me, and while I'd known that it would, none of it sat right with me all of a sudden. Jake was not only married, but his wife was pregnant and I hadn't even known. Eric was going to be the cool uncle. Daphne worked in my mother's bakery…

My mind spun and I got up, needing something stronger than beer while I tried to process it all. "I'm going to get tequila. We need shots."