by Adriana Peck
I pause, steeling myself, trying to contain my rage as best I can. I want things to be different now, and that means no more fighting.
“Chance, I’m sorry,” I say through gritted teeth. Leave it to my brother to find a way under my skin before I’ve even stepped inside. “For everything. I want to make it up to you. To Mom and Dad. Jay left for good, but I didn’t. I came back. I want to make things right. But you have to let me start somewhere.”
There’s a pause, and the gentle fall air blows as my brother consider my words. After a spell, Chance nods, figuring he’s probably gone too far with his jests. He steps back, holding the door open for me.
“Let’s go give Mom and Dad a scare,” he says, grinning. “Maybe they’ll think you’re a ghost.”
I groan quietly to myself, stepping the porch and into my old home as Chance leads me inside.
◆◆◆
The house is exactly the same as I left it, swear to god. Same formica countertops in the kitchen, same faded yellow aesthetic that bleeds from the kitchen table to the ugly shade of the refrigerator. Still no dishwasher, and I’d be willing to bet that the oven’s broken, too. But maybe with Chance around some of that can get fixed with his meaty payday. Maybe not.
Chance leads me past the kitchen, into our old living room. Mom and Dad are sitting on the couch, their hair more grey than when I left all those years ago. Dad looks tired, and I know Mom’s the same. They’re staring at the TV, the old tube model, still watching the same crappy old soap operas that they always watched when I was a kid.
“Mom? Dad?” Chance says, knocking on the wall for their attention. “You’ll never guess who’s come back.”
My parents turn and face me, taking a moment to take the sight of me in. Mom’s face lights up, Dad cracks a hesitant smile.
“Jake?” Dad asks. Mom nods from behind him.
“It’s me,” I say, holding my hands out for emphasis. Mom and Dad get up from the couch, tired from their aching joints. They meet me in the middle of the living room, embracing me as I wrap my arms around them. “It’s good to be home,” I say.
Chance look unimpressed, and Mom and Dad and I pull back as my brother clears his throat.
“Thought we could get some things straight, now that Jake’s back in town,” he says.
I nod. “What’d you have in mind, Chance?”
He nods behind him. “Come on, let’s go sit down at the table. You and me. Mom and Dad can get back to their stories.”
I shoot a smile over to my parents, who return to the couch and turn up the volume on the old TV. Chance heads back into the kitchen, and I follow closely behind him. He pulls a chair out for me, the old leather cushion ripped and stained from years of use. I sit down as Chance takes the seat across from me, golden sunlight of the fall afternoon seeping into through the window.
“So, you’re really back, then, huh?”
“Yeah, Chance. Back for good.”
“Why?”
His words sting, but I should’ve expected that from my brother. “Thought we talked about it outside,” I reply. “I wanted to come home first thing. Before I move away or do anything else.”
“You didn’t mention the moving away part,” Chance says. “You know, you stirred up a lot of trouble before you left. We had to clean that up when you were soldiering around the Middle East like John Rambo.”
“I know, and I’m sorry for that—”
“Like hell you are,” Chance sneers, and his words cut me deeper than any knife ever could. “Face it, you’re coming here with your tail tucked between your legs. I can read it on you like a book. You’re ashamed of who you used to be here. So are we. So, Jake, I’ll ask you again. Why come back?”
I throw my hands up, careful not to raise my voice to disturb Mom and Dad. “I don’t fucking know, Chance. I don’t have an answer for you, I guess. Maybe I thought my family would be more inviting. Mom and Dad were, at least.”
“Because they let themselves forget what a heap of trouble you turned out to be,” Chance says. “But I won’t forget. I won’t let the rest of town forget, either.”
I want to raise my voice, scream at my brother for never giving me a second chance. He’s always been harsh on me. Always pretended to be the big brother, the man of the house after Jay ran off. But I didn’t leave my family for some biker gang like Jay apparently did. Chance likes to forget that part.
“What do you want from me, Chance?” I ask. “How do I make things right between us?”
“Who says you want to make things right?”
“I do, you asshole. I’m tired of this attitude from you. I’m tired of the walls you’re putting up. I wanted to come home and try to be a part of this family again, that’s why I’m here. Happy now?”
Chance cracks a hint of a smile, and I can tell he’s finally letting his guard down for once.
“You are?”
I nod. “Uncle Sam cut me a fat check after Afghanistan. I wanted to see how Mom and Dad were doing. Maybe chip in for their retirement. Help rebuild some of the wreckage I left behind.”
Chance nods out the window. “Saw you got that rusty clunker out there. Most guys in your position buy sports cars after they get their first check. But not you.”
“Didn’t want to show up my big brother, that’s what,” I chuckle.
Chance chuckles, too. He leans back in his chair, crosses his arms as he stares out the window at my truck. “That thing get you all the way back here?”
I nod. “Landed in South Carolina. Bought that guy off the lot in Charleston. So, what do you think, Chance?”
“About what?”
“About me coming home. About me staying here in my old room.”
My brother the doctor shrugs, his dark-green scrubs absorbing all the light from outside. “Guess it’s fine by me,” he says. “I know Mom and Dad won’t mind. You’re staying out of trouble, then.?”
I nod. “Course.”
“Prove it, then.”
“How?”
Chance leans over, reaches into his scrubs pocket as he pulls out his wallet. It’s thick, made of rich dark leather, and I can see it’s stuffed with cash. He reaches in, pulls out a fat stack of bills. They’re all twenties, new and crisp from the bank.
“I don’t need this—”
“Not for you,” he replies curly, interrupting me. “For charity.”
I pause. “I’m confused.”
“There’s a charity fundraiser coming up this Friday. You know that Nigel Knoxley guy? He owns the cardboard box factory that everyone seems to work at here. Wife’s Nora, of Nora’s Café. They run the big old HalloweenFest at the end of October every year.”
“Yeah, what about him?”
“He’s hosting the charity fundraiser on his factory floor. All the proceeds go back into Twin Orchards. Some of the cash goes to the high school, some goes to my hospital, some of it probably paves Main Street. I don’t know. What I do know is this: the whole town’s going to be there. Word’s going to travel fast that you’re back in town. And people are going to ask questions.”
“So?” I don’t really know where Chance is going with this, and he’s already losing my interest.
“So, I want you to make yourself look good out there. Spend this money, give it back to Twin Orchards. Go play some carnival games or something. Hell, there’s gonna be this auction where you can bet on a girl for a date, you could probably—”
“I don’t want to pay for a date. That’s for suckers.”
Chance throws his hands up. “Suit yourself, then. Just a suggestion. But I want you to take that money to the charity fundraiser, spend it there. Not on booze, not on a new car or anything. Make our family look good for once, Jake. People will notice you doing good, spending money for a good cause. They’ll spread it around town like butter on toast. So start out on the right foot.”
I nod, putting the stack of bills in my hoodie’s front pocket. “What are you getting out of this?” I ask my brother
.
“If you’re nice out there, people are going to think I’m a good brother for letting you back in. Personal gain. That’s why.”
I shrug. “Suit yourself.”
“What?”
“Or, another idea. You could just…you know, be a good brother?”
Chance grins, leaning forward in his seat. “But where’s the fun in that?”
“Whatever.”
“Look, Jake. Take that money. Spend it on charity, do some good. For once. The town’ll notice it, and you’ll be back in their good favor. It’s a good feeling, that.”
I nod, getting up from the kitchen table. “We done here?”
“Yeah. Think about what I said. See you around, Jake.”
I don’t give my brother another word. I turn around, push out the screen door as I step back out into the bright afternoon of the day. I give a second glance to my brother’s jet-black sports car, and I’m tempted to hock a loogie across the front windshield. I decide against it, especially after my brother just handed me a fat stack of cash with no strings attached.
I thumb the stack of twenties in my pocket. There’s a few hundred bucks here easily. Maybe a thousand if I’m lucky.
Looks like the first round’s on Chance.
Five
Nancy
The day after the run-in with Jake, I’m still shaken up after seeing him for the first time in years. Normally I wouldn’t give a visitor like him a second thought, but for some reason I can’t get the image of him out of my mind. His charming face. That grin of his. And those endless dark eyes of his. I’d get lost in them if I could, if he’d just let me stare.
“That’s quite enough, darling, I think I’ll drown if you give me any more.”
I snap back to attention, pulling myself suddenly back to reality. I’m in the middle of refilling Paul’s coffee cup, his egg-salad sandwich already plated in front of him. I can see now I’ve overfilled his cup, and I watch in horror as the bitter liquid spills over the sides and onto the counter.
“Oh, Paul, I’m so sorry, I’ll get you a fresh mug—”
“No, need, darlin’,” Paul chuckles. He leans over, taking a sip from the top of the mug without touching it. His fluffy white beard drapes over his egg-salad sandwich for a moment, and I chuckle at the thought of feeding his beard a sandwich of its own.
“Let me grab a rag, at least,” I say as Paul nods gingerly, sipping his coffee like a statue.
I look below the counter, scouring the rack for a wet rag. I grab one from a bucket of cleaner, wringing the towel out before popping back up and cleaning the space around the mess I made. There aren’t many other customers in the café, and Nora’s come to help out with the afternoon lunch ‘rush’ I’m facing; all of three customers besides Paul are here, I’m the furthest thing from overwhelmed at the moment. But I’ll never decline help, especially coming from my boss, the owner.
“So, seen that boy around?” Paul asks me after I’ve placed the rag back into the sanitizer bucket.
“Huh?”
“Don’t ‘huh’ me, Nancy, I’m getting too old for that crap. Jake. Reeves. Seen him around since yesterday?”
I shake my head, grinning just slightly. “No, Paul, I haven’t.”
“You two looked like you were hitting it off well enough.”
I cock an eyebrow, choosing my words carefully. “He was nice enough, Paul, but we’re probably going our separate ways after yesterday. I think we’re probably too different.”
Paul raises his eyebrows in return, goes back to his egg-salad sandwich. “That’s a lot of ‘probablys’. Huh.”
“Don’t ‘huh’ me, Paul, I’m too young for that crap.”
Paul laughs as I leave him to finish his lunch, and I work my way around the counter, checking in with the other customers. Nora’s working the rounds, too, and I give her a friendly wave as we pass each other behind the counter.
“Nancy, you doing okay?” she asks as I grab a stack of dirty plates from the countertop.
I nod, turning back to face Nora as I walk backwards to the kitchen. “Never better,” I smile over to her. I keep walking to the kitchen, dropping the plate off for Don to clean when he gets a chance.
“Jake pays for his own coffee next time, then,” Nora calls over to me, and I feel my face flushing as Paul bursts out into laughter. I nod over at my boss, nonverbally acknowledging my mistake.
I step out from behind the counter and check in on the customers in the booths. Nigel Knoxley is here reading the paper, sitting in the back near the kitchen’s entrance, and I make sure his coffee is filled up before moving along to the next customer. Nora’s pretty good at taking care of her husband, anyways.
“Principal Garry,” I say, greeting the older fellow in the next booth. “How’s the schooling?”
“Oh, Nancy, you better keep that coffee coming,” Principal Garry groans.
“That bad, huh?”
“Counting down the days until I retire.”
“How many more you got?” I ask my old principal, grinning down at him as he rubs a wrinkled brow with one hand. The poor guy’s overworked to the point of exhaustion. He comes here for the pie, but I know the coffee is what keeps him going.
“Ten years,” he says, laughing darkly to himself.
“Hey, another five’ll fly by,” I snap my fingers, grinning optimistically. “Just like that. At least, it did for me.”
Principal Garry smiles up at me. “You were always one of the good ones, Nancy.”
“Hey, I tried. At least I was better off than Jake Reeves, right?”
He sighs. “Anyone could be better than that guy, I suppose. Why?”
“He came back to town yesterday,” I tell my old principal. “Gave him coffee, just in that booth over there,” I point over to the restrooms.
Principal Garry looks down at his half-finished cherry pie. “Then God have mercy on us all,” he mutters.
I pat his shoulder. “Chin up, Principal Garry. Only ten more years ‘till you’re done with all this.”
“You’ll find me on a beach in Cabo then,” Garry responds.
I take a look around the restaurant. Nobody else is eager to be served, nobody’s waiting on their check. I head back to step behind the counter, but I’m stopped by Nigel Knoxley, who lowers his paper and waves me over. I bounce over to the owner’s husband, eager to serve him as quick as I can.
“Mr. Knoxley, how’re we doing today?” I ask as I refill the capitalist’s coffee cup.
Nigel Knoxley is a wiry man, with thinning brown hair and a pencil mustache. Appearances aside, he’s a charming man with an infectious smile I can’t help but return when he flashes it.
“I’m as good as you are pleasant today, Miss Nancy,” he beams.
“Oh, stop that, Mr. Knoxley, you’re gonna make me blush.”
“I’ll stop when my wife’s in earshot,” Nigel says jokingly. We both laugh at that, and I instinctively peer around to see where Nora’s at. She’s disappeared, must be in the kitchen talking to Don.
“So, Nancy, any plans for the weekend?”
“Mr. Knoxley, surely you jest.”
“No. I’m not asking you out, Nancy. Nora’d kill me for that. And I’m busy enough as is.”
I chuckle, lightening the mood as I glance down at Nigel. “I’m free, why do you ask?”
“This Friday, I’m cleaning out the factory floor. A little charity fundraiser for Twin Orchards, the money’ll help the school, roads, that sort of thing. A little pre-game for our usual HalloweenFest coming up in a few weeks.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Sounds real nice of you, Mr. Knoxley.”
He shrugs. “I like to give back. But I asked only because we need volunteers. Someone to run the booths and concession stands, you know.”
“I’m awful busy with the café here, Nigel, I’d help out if I could—”
Nigel waves a hand. “Nora’s shutting the café down for the night. I thought she would’ve told you your hours
were going to get cut that day.”
I shake my head. No, she failed to mention that part. Not like I’m trying to pay my rent or anything.
“Well, regardless, I’d like to extend that offer to you for this Friday night. Come volunteer with us. I’ll pay you double what you’d be making here. And I know you make good tips.”
I rest my hand on my hip. “You’re joking.”
Nigel shakes his head this time. “I’m not, Miss Nancy. You can run one of the concession stands. Just selling food, drinks, candy. That’s it. It’ll be a cakewalk compared to how busy things get here.”
Someone places their hand on my shoulder, and I turn around to see Nora Knoxley standing behind me. She’s wiry, just like her husband, with elegant raven-colored hair draped perfectly over her shoulders. Her and Nigel were made for each other, honestly, they look like couple of regular hippies from an era long past.
“Sorry, must’ve forgotten to mention the shutting down of the café to you,” Nora says to me. “Slipped my mind. I’m sorry, Nancy. My mistake.”
I shrug. “No biggie. I’ll take the job, Mr. Knoxley. Sounds like a fun night.”
Nora and Nigel Knoxley both smile at me.
“We’ve got the perfect spot picked out for your booth already,” Nora says, taking her hand off my shoulder as she takes a seat next to her husband in the booth. “You’re going to have a ball on Friday, it’ll be a night to remember. Trust me.”
I grin back at my boss. “I’m already beyond excited,” I reply honestly. And I am. Normally my Fridays are spent home, alone, in front of the TV or curled up on the couch with a good book. It’ll be nice to make a change.
Nigel looks back up at me from his paper. “Whole town’s going to be there,” he says innocuously.
“Yeah?”
Nora chuckles darkly, sparing a look at her husband. “You better watch out for that Jake. I bet he’ll be there, too.”
I feel my heart skipping a beat at the mention of his name. I told him things wouldn’t work between us, sure, but that doesn’t mean I can’t run into him on a Friday night, right?
I shrug, letting the future give way to the mystery ahead.