13. A Town That Barely Changed

CHAPTER 13

A Town That Barely Changed

LIAM

T here was someone pounding on my front door like they were trying to break it down. Groaning, I rolled over and squinted at the clock on my nightstand. Ten in the morning. Who the hell was bothering me at this ungodly hour?

I stumbled out of bed, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that didn't smell too bad. As I made my way downstairs, the knocking intensified, each thud reverberating through my skull like a jackhammer.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming!" I yelled, my voice still rough with sleep. "Keep your pants on."

I yanked open the door, ready to give whoever it was a piece of my mind. But instead of some annoying salesperson or nosy neighbor, I found myself face to face with one of the renovators I'd hired to fix up the old house.

"Morning, Mr. Denison," he said, a friendly smile on his face. "Sorry to bother you so early, but we need to talk about the plumbing."

I blinked, my brain still fuzzy and slow. "The plumbing? What about it?"

"Well, we're going to be working on it today, which means the water will be off for most of the day. I wanted to give you a heads up, in case you needed to shower or do any laundry or anything."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. Of course. Because why would anything in this damn house be simple or easy?

"Right. Thanks for letting me know. I'll figure something out, I guess."

The renovator nodded, his expression sympathetic. "I know it's a pain, but it's all part of the process. The good news is, the painters are already done with the exterior, and they'll be back to do the inside as soon as we're finished with the plumbing and electrical."

I felt a flicker of surprise, followed by a surge of gratitude. "Wow, that was fast. I didn't expect them to be done so soon."

He shrugged, a modest smile tugging at his lips. "What can I say? We're good at what we do."

I chuckled, feeling some of the tension drain out of my shoulders. "Apparently. Well, thanks again for the update. I appreciate it."

"No problem. Oh, and feel free to help yourself to some coffee if you want. We just got a new machine, and it's pretty damn good, if I do say so myself."

I raised an eyebrow, impressed. "You guys brought your own coffee maker?"

He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Hey, we take our caffeine seriously around here. Can't work on an empty tank, you know?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "Fair enough. I'll keep that in mind."

He gave me a little salute, then turned and headed back towards the construction zone that used to be my living room. I watched him go, feeling a mix of amusement and exasperation.

This whole renovation thing was turning out to be a lot more complicated than I'd expected. When I'd bought the house, I'd known it needed work, but I hadn't quite anticipated the sheer scale of the project .

Every day, it seemed like there was some new problem to deal with, some new obstacle to overcome. Leaky pipes, faulty wiring, a termite infestation in the attic, it was like the universe was conspiring to make my life as difficult as possible.

But at the same time, I couldn't deny the thrill of excitement that came with each new challenge, each step forward in the process of making this place my own. Because that's what it was, really. My own. My home, my sanctuary, my chance to start over and build something new. Even if it meant dealing with a few or headaches along the way.

I sighed, glancing at the clock again. I needed to get moving if I wanted to shower and get out of the house before they shut the water off.

But first, coffee. Definitely coffee.

Twenty minutes later, I was showered, dressed, and feeling marginally more human. I grabbed my keys and my wallet, then paused, realizing I had no idea where I was going to go.

I couldn't exactly hang out at the house all day, not with the construction crew tearing things apart and making a racket. But it wasn't like I had a ton of options in a town as small as Oakwood Grove.

I headed back downstairs, figuring I'd ask the renovators if they had any suggestions. They seemed like local guys, the kind who knew every inch of this town like the back of their hand.

I found them in the kitchen, huddled around the coffee maker like it was some kind of holy relic. They looked up as I walked in, their faces breaking into friendly grins.

"Hey, Mr. Denison. Heading out for the day?" one of them asked, a burly guy with a beard that could put Santa to shame.

I nodded, leaning against the counter. "Yeah, I figured I'd get out of your hair while you guys work your magic. Any recommendations on where to go?"

The guy thought for a moment, scratching his chin. "Well, there's not a ton of options, to be honest. But if you're looking for a good meal, you can't go wrong with the diner on Main Street. Best pancakes in town, hands down."

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "The diner, huh? I think I saw that place when I first got into town. The one with the big red sign?"

He nodded, a fond smile on his face. "That's the one."

I nodded, already sold on the idea. "I think I will. Thanks for the tip, uh…"

"Jim," he supplied, holding out a hand. "Jim Hawkins. And it's no trouble at all. Us locals gotta stick together, right?"

I shook his hand, feeling a sudden, unexpected warmth in my chest. It was a small thing, just a friendly conversation and a recommendation for breakfast.

I hopped in my car, feeling a strange mix of excitement and trepidation as I turned the key in the ignition. It had been so long since I'd driven these streets, so long since I'd seen the familiar sights and sounds of Oakwood Grove.

As I made my way towards the high street, I couldn't help but marvel at how little the town had changed in the past twenty years. Oh, sure, there were a few new businesses here and there, a fresh coat of paint on some of the old storefronts. But overall, it was like stepping back in time, like walking into a memory that had been preserved in amber.

I parked my car in front of the diner, the same one that Jim had recommended. "The Grove," the sign read, in big, bold letters that looked like they hadn't been updated since the eighties.

I reached into the glove box and grabbed my hat, a battered old baseball cap that I'd had since college. I didn't know why I'd brought it with me, really. It wasn't like I needed to hide my face or anything. Old habits die hard, I suppose.

But somehow, it felt like a shield, like a way to keep a little bit of distance between myself and the world. Like if I could just keep my head down and my eyes hidden, maybe I could make it through this day without anyone recognizing me, without anyone asking too many questions .

I took a deep breath, steeling myself, and then I pushed open the door of the diner and stepped inside.

The first thing that hit me was the smell, that classic diner aroma of coffee and bacon and syrup all mingling together in the air. It was comforting, in a way, like a warm hug from an old friend.

I made my way over to a booth by the window, sliding into the cracked vinyl seat and picking up a menu. I wasn't really hungry, but I needed something to do with my hands, needed a way to distract myself from the nerves that were jangling in my gut. I was just about to flag down the waitress when I heard a voice that made my heart stop dead in my chest.

"Liam? Oh my God, it's you!"

I looked up, my eyes wide and my mouth hanging open. Because there, standing in front of me with a coffee pot in one hand and a look of utter shock on her face was Sarah.

Sarah, who I hadn't seen or spoken to in twenty long, lonely years.

"Sarah," I managed to choke out, my voice cracking with emotion. "I… what are you doing here?"

She laughed, setting down the coffee pot and sliding into the booth across from me. "I work here, dummy. Have for the past ten years."

I shook my head, feeling like I was in a dream. "I can't believe it. I can't believe you're here, that you're still in Oakwood."

She shrugged, a sad little smile tugging at her lips. "Where else would I be? This is home, Liam. Always has been, always will be."

"Listen, Sarah," I said softly, leaning in close and lowering my voice. "I need you to do me a favor, okay? I need you to keep it quiet that I'm back in town. No one knows I'm here, and I'm not ready for them to know. Not yet."

She frowned, her brow furrowing with concern. "But why, Liam? Why the secrecy? I mean, it's been twenty years. Surely by now… "

"Please, Sarah," I cut her off, my voice urgent and pleading. "Just do this for me, okay? As a friend?"

She sighed, but I could see the understanding in her eyes, the compassion. "Okay, Liam. Okay. Your secret's safe with me."

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, feeling some of the tension drain out of my shoulders. "Thank you, Sarah. Really. You have no idea how much this means to me."

She reached out, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. "I think I might have some idea. But listen, we need to catch up soon, okay? Like, really catch up. I want to hear all about your life, about what you've been up to and where you've been and everything."

I nodded, feeling a sudden, overwhelming rush of affection for this woman who had once been my closest confidante, my dearest friend. "Absolutely. We will, I promise." I trailed off, glancing down at the menu in front of me. "For now, I think I'd like to order some pancakes."

Sarah grinned, the tension of the moment breaking like a fever. "Coming right up. One stack of pancakes, extra syrup, just the way you like ‘em."

She stood up, grabbing the coffee pot and heading back towards the kitchen. But before she disappeared through the swinging doors, she paused, glancing back at me over her shoulder.

"It's good to see you, Liam," she said softly, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Really good."

And then she was gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts and my memories and the endless, aching weight of all the years that had passed.

I sat there for a long time, staring out the window at the familiar streets and buildings of Oakwood Grove. At the place that had once been my whole world, the place that held so many of my happiest memories and my darkest fears.

I was so lost in my thoughts, so caught up in the whirlwind of emotions that was swirling through my mind, that I almost didn't notice when Sarah came back with my pancakes. The steam rising off the fluffy stack in enticing curls, and I felt my stomach rumble with sudden, ravenous hunger.

"Thanks, Sarah," I murmured, picking up my fork and knife and digging in with gusto. "These look amazing."

She slid into the booth across from me, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Well, I should hope so. I made them myself, you know."

I looked up at her, my mouth full of pancake and my eyebrows raised in surprise. "You did?"

She nodded, a proud little smile tugging at her lips. "Yup. Been working in this kitchen for years now, learning all the tricks of the trade. I'm practically a master chef at this point."

I swallowed, taking a sip of coffee to wash it down. "Well, color me impressed. These are the best pancakes I've had in well, in a really long time."

Her smile widened, her eyes sparkling with pleasure. "I'm glad. It's nice to know I haven't lost my touch."

We fell into a comfortable silence then, me eating and her watching me with a thoughtful expression on her face. I could tell there was something on her mind, something she wanted to ask me but wasn't quite sure how to bring up.

Finally, after a few minutes of loaded silence, she took a deep breath and leaned forward, her voice low and serious.

"Liam," she said softly, her eyes searching mine. "Does Caleb know you're back?"

I felt my heart skip a beat, my breath catching in my throat. It was the question I had been dreading, the one I had been hoping to avoid for as long as possible. But of course Sarah would ask. Of course she would want to know about Caleb.

I set down my fork, my appetite suddenly gone. "No," I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. "He doesn't know. And I don't even know if he's still here, if he's still in Oakwood."

Sarah sighed, her expression softening with sympathy. "He's still here, Liam. He never left, not after everything that happened."

I closed my eyes, feeling a wave of guilt and pain wash over me. Because I knew what she was talking about, knew all too well the "everything" that had torn us apart, that had shattered our lives and our dreams into a million jagged pieces.

"I'm not ready to talk about it," I said softly, my voice cracking with emotion. "I'm not ready to face him yet."

Sarah reached out, her hand warm and comforting on mine. "I know, Liam. I know. And I'm not going to push you, not going to force you to do anything you're not ready for." Sarah glanced over her shoulder, her expression turning rueful. "Listen, I've got to get back to work before the boss has my head. But before I go…"

She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a small slip of paper, pressing it into my hand with a meaningful look. "If you're looking for something to do while you are here, call this number. It's a friend of mine. He's always looking for good people, and I think you'd be perfect for it."

I stared down at the paper, feeling a sudden, dizzying rush of possibility. A way to make a life for myself here, in Oakwood. For a while anyway. I needed something to do and this seems like the perfect thing for him at this moment.

I folded the paper carefully, tucking it into my pocket like a precious treasure. It was a lifeline, a chance to start over and build something new. Something that was all my own, something that had nothing to do with the past or the pain or the endless, aching weight of regret.

After paying for my food and saying my goodbyes to Sarah, I drove around town for a while, letting the familiar sights and sounds wash over me like a balm. The old movie theater where Caleb and I had our first date, the park where we used to hang out with our friends, the school where we had dreamed of a future together.

By the time I got back to the house, it was late and I was exhausted. I dragged myself up the stairs, my body heavy with fatigue and my mind whirling with thoughts of Sarah and Caleb and the job and everything in between .

I was just about to collapse into bed when I heard a loud bang coming from the backyard. I froze, my heart slamming against my ribs like a caged bird.

What the hell was that?