When He Returns

by Kimberly Rae Jordan

  “So they promised you one thing but delivered another?”

  “Essentially. Not that it was all bad. I mean, I made a ton of money through my music, which is what I’d always wanted to do. Well, not that it was all about the money, more that my music was getting recognition. And I did meet Jesse, who became one of my best friends. So obviously it wasn’t all bad.”

  Sierra stopped pushing the cart again, making Dalton turn back around with a lifted brow. “Now what?”

  “Uh, we just went that whole aisle without picking anything up, and I needed a few things.”

  Dalton grinned. “Okay. Less serious talk and more grocery shopping.”

  Though Sierra didn’t want to leave the conversation behind, the grocery store probably wasn’t the best place for it. Instead, Dalton started to talk about the dishes he was planning to make. While Sierra knew they were probably healthy, not all of them sounded like they would taste great.

  “I’m buying ice cream, so if that’s against your healthy agenda, just close your eyes while I pick out my flavors.”

  “Your flavors?” Dalton asked with an arched brow. “As in more than one?”

  “This is a grocery trip, not a guilt trip,” Sierra said as she moved to stand in front of the freezer where her favorites usually were.

  Trying to ignore Dalton’s presence at her back, Sierra found the two flavors she preferred and put them in the cart. She gave Dalton a look, daring him to say something.

  Dalton held up his hands. “No comment from me. I like ice cream too.”

  Though she told herself to ignore it, having his smile focused on her momentarily did something to her. Her teenage-self was demanding to be heard, to let him know of her feelings. Thankfully, her adult-self was in control and not inclined to indulge the crush she’d once had on Dalton.

  As if to prove his point, he got himself a carton of ice cream too.

  After picking up the last of the items on their lists, Dalton began to push the cart to the check-outs at the front of the store. When he began to unload it all together, Sierra stopped him.

  “Those things are mine,” she said, pointing to the milk and eggs he had in his hands.

  Dalton turned to put them on the conveyor belt. “I know.”

  “But you’re mixing it all together.”

  “I’m going to pay for it all together as a thank you for letting me come with you.”

  “That’s not necessary, Dalton.” Sierra crossed her arms. “The cost of the groceries far outweighs the cost of my time and gas.”

  Dalton paused and turned to look at her. “Just let me do this, okay? It will make me feel better, and you have to know that it won’t put me in dire straits. Meanwhile, the lack of healthy food might have.”

  Sierra sighed. “Okay. Fine. But just this once.”

  “I make no promises,” Dalton tossed over his shoulder.

  Resigned to having him pay for her groceries, Sierra began to help him unload the cart. She didn’t bother to point out that they were going to have some fun sorting out the bags when they got home.

  When the groceries were all bagged and put back into their cart, Sierra led the way out of the store. Bright sunshine beat down on them as they loaded the bags into the car.

  “Here, let’s put the ice cream in this freezer bag, or we’ll have soup by the time we get home.”

  Dalton handed her the bag with the ice cream while he finished up with the rest. Within minutes, they were leaving the parking lot. As she drove, Dalton made observations about the places they passed, noticing some of the changes that had taken place in the years since he’d been gone.

  Sierra’s least popular part of grocery shopping was always lugging the bags up the stairs. Having Dalton’s help made that chore go a lot more quickly as he was willing to make a couple of trips up and down the stairs to get them all. They brought the bags into Sierra’s kitchen, and while he went back down for the rest, she began to sort through them, putting her groceries in the cupboard and setting his aside on the counter.

  “I’ll just put these back in the bags, so they’re easier to carry,” Dalton said as he stood on the other side of the island counter a few minutes later.

  Sierra handed him empty bags then continued to go through the remaining groceries. “I think I got them all sorted properly.”

  “Well, it’s not like you live too far away if I need to bring something back.”

  When the task of the groceries was taken care of, Sierra found herself wanting to prolong their contact. Not because of her once-upon-a-time crush, but because she found that she enjoyed Dalton’s company.

  When she’d seen his withdrawn interviews and subdued behavior, Sierra had assumed that that was how he was now. This Dalton was a complete surprise even though the sense of humor and quick wit he was displaying were similar to what he’d had as a teen. It was possible that the drugs had dulled his personality, and now that he was clean, his real personality shone through once again.

  “Are you working tomorrow?” Dalton asked as he came back for his last bag of groceries.

  “Yep. I have to be at the hospital at six AM for a twelve-hour shift.”

  “So a nurse, eh? Is that what you’d always wanted to be?”

  Sierra told herself it didn’t matter that he didn’t remember that she’d wanted to be a nurse even back when they were teens. The circumstances that had led to her deciding on her career path were painful and something she no longer talked about, if she could help it. “Sort of. Well, since I was a teen anyway.”

  “That must be hard work and emotional, too.”

  “It can be, but it’s worth it.”

  Dalton nodded then said, “Well, I’d better go put away my groceries. You probably have to go to bed fairly early if your shift starts at six.”

  “I do. I’m usually up by five.”

  Dalton shook his head. “I only see five in the morning when I’ve stayed up all night.”

  “I haven’t pulled an all-nighter in a very, very long time unless it’s for a shift at the hospital.”

  “It’s been a few months now for me too, and it will probably stay that way for the time being. I’m a bit more used to daytime hours after my stay at the center.”

  After chatting for a few more minutes, Dalton said goodnight and left her apartment. Sierra returned to the kitchen to finish putting away the last of her groceries. For some reason, when she’d realized Dalton was back to stay for awhile, Sierra had figured that once again she’d be on the periphery of his life. A quiet observer as he interacted with others, only occasionally noticing her—much like how things had been before. She hadn’t anticipated connecting with Dalton as friends like this, but there they were.

  Friends.

  And only friends.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  It felt a bit odd for Dalton to be puttering around in a kitchen, putting away groceries. That wasn’t something he’d done in a very long time. Probably the last time had been when he’d helped his mom during his teen years.

  Still, it gave him a satisfying feeling to know that he’d chosen the food himself and had plans for how to use it. The simple things in life had come to mean a lot more to him during rehab. Things like going to the grocery store. Cooking his own meals. Even just being alone in his apartment. It was quiet, but it was quiet because he wanted it quiet. If he wanted music or the television, he could have it.

  His apartment in Toronto had always felt a bit like Grand Central Station. It was rare that he was ever alone. Whether it had been the person who cooked and cleaned for him, a bandmate or two, or one of his management team, it seemed that there had always been someone in the apartment with him. Then, at rehab, though he’d had a private room, there was a schedule that they followed each day, and it didn’t usually include staying in his room alone all day.

  Once the groceries were put away, Dalton went back to sorting through the boxes of things he’d ordered that Elliot and JD had put in the apartment for him. He’d
gotten through most of them that morning and had put their contents away, but he’d left one box until last, on purpose.

  It was a small box, and for a moment, Dalton sat with it on the couch, wondering if he was putting too much weight on its significance or what he hoped would happen when he finally opened it up and tried to use what was inside. He had a small fireproof safe in his bedroom, one that he’d brought with him on the plane from Toronto and that JD had taken home with him to hold for Dalton until he finished rehab.

  Inside it were all the notebooks he’d filled over the years since he’d left Winnipeg. Sometimes the pages were filled with just random words, other times they read almost like a diary entry, and on many of the pages were the lyrics that had been fleshed out into songs that had won Dalton’s Cross accolades and awards.

  He hadn’t looked at those notebooks in a long time and wouldn’t look at them right then either. He wanted to start fresh. So many of those lyrics and thoughts had been penned under the cloud of whatever drug he’d been using at the time. Dalton didn’t want that anymore, so the fireproof safe and its contents would remain unopened on the shelf in his closet.

  The problem was, all through rehab—even as he’d worked through tough things with the counselors there—no words or music had come. Part of him was scared that they would never come again. He tried to keep reminding himself that he’d written plenty of songs before he began using drugs.

  He’d write songs again. He just had to believe it.

  Dalton ripped open the box he held and moved aside the tissue paper so he could lift out the leather-bound notebooks and expensive pens he’d bought. Did he really think that the type of notebook he had or the pen he wrote with would make a difference? Not really, but he’d liked the look of them, and they certainly couldn’t hurt. It wasn’t like he could write less than he already was.

  Rather than try and write right then, Dalton just sat for a few minutes, letting the words and melodies of other songs he’d written play through his mind. His guitar sat propped against the edge of the digital piano he’d ordered.

  So far, other than at the wedding, he hadn’t touched either of them.

  He debated getting out one of his old notebooks to look through, but finally, he just set everything aside and went in search of his phone. He needed to call his folks. Since he had a new phone, no one but Elliot and JD had his number so his parents wouldn’t have been able to get hold of him. He should have called them already, honestly, and he wasn’t entirely sure why he was putting it off, but he had an idea.

  Dalton found the phone in the kitchen where he’d plugged it into the charger earlier. He settled back on the couch and turned the phone over in his hand as he debated which parent to call. In the end, he settled for his mom, knowing that she probably needed to hear from him even more than his dad did.

  In addition to setting up a new phone for him with a local SIM card, JD had given him all the family phone numbers he had, so Dalton hadn’t needed to track them down the night before at the wedding. After a few more minutes of hesitation, he finally tapped the screen to call his mom.

  “Hello?” The cautious tone of his mom’s voice told him that she hadn’t been entirely sure about answering a call from an unknown number.

  “Hi, Mom. It’s me.” He figured she would know who me was since all her other kids’ numbers would already be on her phone.

  “Dalton, honey! It’s so good to hear from you.” The reticence was gone from her voice, leaving only joy. “How are you doing, sweetheart?”

  Dalton leaned back against the couch, relaxing now that he’d heard her voice and knew she was happy that he’d called. “I’m doing good. How are you and Dad?”

  “Oh, we’re doing as fine as a couple of old people can be,” she said with a laugh.

  “You’re not old,” Dalton scoffed. Though in reality, they weren’t getting any younger. He was just glad that his mom had recovered as well as she had from the brain bleed she had suffered when he was a teen. It could have ended much differently for her and their family.

  “Ah, spoken like a true young one,” she said. “Let me just say that every day, something more aches, but really, we’re doing just fine.”

  “That’s good.”

  “What did you get up to today?”

  Dalton shifted on the couch, waiting for her to comment on the fact that he hadn’t made it to church that morning. When he’d gone to sleep the night before, it had been on his mind to go, but he’d purposely not set his alarm, just in case he struggled to fall asleep in a new place. In reality, he hadn’t slept well over the past few months. Because of his addictions, the rehab staff had been loath to give him any sleep aides, so he’d been left to try alternative methods of inducing sleep, which rarely worked for him.

  He’d had some trouble falling asleep the night before, but once he had, he’d slept deeply for what felt like the first time in ages. The bed had been amazingly comfortable, and with the stressful reunion with the family behind him, it seemed that his mind and body had finally been able to relax enough for him to sleep.

  “I unpacked some things that JD and Elliot had delivered for me, and I went grocery shopping this afternoon with Sierra.”

  “You went with Sierra?”

  “I was lucky. I caught her on the way to the store, and she was willing to let me tag along. I still don’t have a license, so even if I bought a car here, it wouldn’t do me any good.”

  “I can’t believe you still aren’t driving. You might have to do something about that,” she said. “Because getting around on the bus probably isn’t an option you’ll want to consider.”

  “This is true. I figured I’d do cabs if I have to, but I’m thinking of getting my learner’s again so I can take the driver’s test.”

  “That would probably be a good thing,” his mom agreed. “Are you…are you considering staying here for awhile?”

  Dalton could hear the hesitation in her voice, and he knew it was because she didn’t want him to feel pressured. Thankfully, it was something he’d spent a lot of time thinking about over the months he’d been in rehab. He didn’t know how long he’d stay, and at some point, he’d have to go back to Toronto. His life there would need to be dealt with eventually.

  “Yes. Right now, I don’t have any immediate plans to return to Toronto, though that may change depending on my band and the management. For now, though, I plan to stay here in Winnipeg. That’s why I wanted the apartment.” Dalton took a deep breath. “I know you would have liked me to live with you and Dad, but I need my space. I need to learn how to live my life now. For too long, I’ve had other people making decisions for me and telling me what to do. I just need…space.”

  “I understand,” she said, and from her tone, Dalton thought that maybe she really did. “You have to understand too though, that your dad and I still think of you as the seventeen-year-old you were before you left. We’re trying not to treat you like that, but you have to cut us a little slack.”

  “I will,” Dalton promised her. “What are you and Dad up to tomorrow morning?”

  “We don’t have any plans that I know of,” she said. “Did you need us for something?”

  “I was thinking of getting a cab out to your place, and maybe we could do brunch or lunch or something.”

  “Oh, I’d love that, but instead of a cab, I’m sure your dad would be happy to pick you up.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Well, let me go find him, and I’ll ask.” He heard movement then she said, “I think he’s in the family room.”

  Dalton pictured the house in his mind, remembering the hours upon hours he’d spent in the family room.

  “Steve, sweetie, Dalton’s on the phone.” She hesitated then said, “I’m going to put you on speaker, okay?”

  “Sure, that’s fine.”

  “Hiya, son,” his dad said. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m doing good. I was just asking Mom if you two might be available tomorrow
morning if I came out for brunch or something.”

  “I’m definitely available,” his dad said.

  “Would you be able to pick him up?” his mom asked. “Dalton says he still doesn’t have a license.”

  “Well, we’re going to have to rectify that,” his dad announced. “But in the meantime, picking you up wouldn’t be a problem at all. What time were you thinking?”

  “Did you want to do brunch or lunch?” Dalton asked.

  “Let’s do brunch,” his mom said. “I have plenty of food.”

  “Then maybe you could pick me up around nine or so?”

  “Nine will be fine.”

  They chatted for a bit longer, but then his dad got a call on his phone, so Dalton said goodbye to them and hung up. Relief coursed through him as he slumped back on the couch. He stared up at the ceiling, hoping that their visit the next day went as well as that conversation had.

  Dalton knew that at some point, he needed to talk to them about everything—well, maybe not everything—that had gone down, and that was a little unsettling if he thought about it too much. How could he explain what he’d been thinking back then? There was so much about his life in Toronto he wasn’t sure he could share with his parents, let alone anyone else in the family.

  Well, except maybe JD.

  He had told the counselor at rehab everything. Once Dalton had made the decision that he really wanted to get better, he’d held nothing back. It had been cathartic spilling it all to someone who wouldn’t judge him. Someone who wouldn’t look at him through the lens of everything that had gone on during the past decade, for the rest of his life.

  Still, he had to be able to tell his mom and dad something. They deserved to at least know about the events that had led up to his leaving home. He’d thought he’d been so smart back then, believing the line fed to him by the “music producer” who’d contacted him after seeing his videos on YouTube. Dalton hadn’t realized he was being groomed. Hadn’t realized that the man’s plan was to take advantage of his youth and his talent.