by J. M. Adele
“Would ye like a lift to the wake, then?” Harry asked.
“I don’t suppose ye’ve got a car, at the minute?” Harvey threw a heavy arm around Aiden’s shoulder, stretching slightly, as they were the same height.
“That’d be great, thanks.”
Harry and Mr. Saunders took a more luxurious, Buick, while Harvey promptly guided Aiden to a rusty, old, Chevy pick-up. He knew that it used to be candy apple red. The painted logo of Harvey’s Auto Shop had faded from the hood over time.
The slamming of their doors was loud, but the rumble of the engine was deafening. His shoes slipped and crunched on the collection of empty chip packets and coffee cups strewn on the floor of the passenger side. Harvey looked over to investigate, propping his sunglasses on his nose. “Sorry ‘bout the mess. I needed sustenance to get me through the long hospital waits. Just kick it out of the way.” He waved his hand as if brushing the offending items away, stirring the smell of sweat and stale coffee.
Aiden took in the scenery as the old truck bumped along; its shock absorbers not up to the task. The town had changed in his absence. Grassy fields had made way for new housing developments. The single traffic light had spawned some friends, though the center of town had mostly remained in its time capsule.
Aiden’s knee jiggled against the door as his nervous energy found an outlet. He was still reeling from the weirdest moment of his life. Seeing his friend put underground, and experiencing what felt like salvation all within moments of each other. He had to put her out of his mind and focus on Hank.
“How long was he ill?”
“Oh, he had the first stroke about a month ago. It wasn’t too bad. He could still talk, though his words were slurred. We thought he’d recover. He was starting rehab, but then he had a massive stroke. Turned him into a vegetable. No coming back from that. He was in a coma for a week before he died. Nasty business, seeing a strong, proud man brought to his knees. Even more horrible, seeing a brother suffer.”
Aiden kept a steady eye on the road, using the horizon to ground him, and stop the flow of tears that threatened. He swallowed against a tight throat before attempting to speak. “I didn’t know.” He cursed under his breath. “I would have come.” I should have been here.
“I just happened to look up the local paper online. I don’t even know what made me do it. His name caught my eye while I was skimming.” Aiden swallowed again, and turned to the window to squeeze his eyes shut.
He felt a firm grip on his shoulder. “Per’aps you wanted news of a certain young lady, as well as her pa?”
Hank’s daughter, Angel. If he weren’t in the habit of denying his true desires, he’d admit that he’d been searching the group of mourners for her. The girl he would never forget no matter how hard he tried. Angel. An appropriate name for the girl who weaved through his thoughts whenever he let them drift.
He sucked in a breath. Light dawned, and memories of green eyes that used to be shadowed behind glasses rose abruptly into transparency. Climbing trees and fishing, later became holding hands and kissing.
Angel.
His plans just changed.
Author of smart, sexy characters, J.M. Adele loves to flit between the dark and light sides of romance. Somewhere along the way an almost constant procession of imaginary characters settled into her thoughts and she picked up a pen to share their stories.
She lives in Queensland with her three greatest loves, her children. When she’s not writing or being a mum, you might find her hiking up a mountain, singing in the car when nobody is looking, or curled up with a good book.
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