30. Alex
I drive rightpast Udderly Creamy, barely even noticing the dark farm shop. A few minutes later I have to turn my headlights on, and the instinctual movement jolts me out of my head and makes me focus on what I’m doing.
I take a deep breath, attempting to relax my hold on the steering wheel, and shake my shoulders out. The truck is running west and I realize my body pointed me exactly where I wanted to go on autopilot: Here.
Sensing the mood shift, Trixie whines from the backseat and puts her paws on the armrest, bringing her head high enough to lick my ear. “Easy, girl,” I say. “We’re fine. We’re going to be okay.” I reach back and rub the scruff of her neck, my fingers running through her springy hair and feeling the rapid heartbeat underneath.
An hour or so later, I pull into Kit’s parents’ driveway. I don’t even turn the truck off before the door opens and Kit strides out. He climbs into the passenger seat, greeting Trixie enthusiastically before buckling his seatbelt.
“Where to, buddy?” he asks me.
“Anywhere but Fork Lick,” I say, sliding the truck into reverse and pulling out.
“I think the expression is supposed to be anywhere but here, though that sounds like a diss on my hometown, so I’ll let it slide.”
There’s a beat of quiet. “How did you know I was coming?”
“Molly called.”
I glance at him over Trixie’s head. She’s standing on the center console, which I don’t normally let her do, but she also knows I’m a sucker for her, especially when I’m in a bad mood.
“She’s worried about you and gave me the rundown.”
I don’t say anything but turn onto Here’s Main Street. Here used to be a tiny run-down town, but lately it’s become a popular tourist destination—at least in the winter when skiers come to the old lodge. The summer’s are quieter, and even though it’s a beautiful mild June Sunday evening, it’s dead downtown.
“What do you want? A drink? Some food? Sit outside?”
My stomach rumbles, and Trixie’s tail whacks against the back of my seat. “All of the above.”
“Deal.” He points out the windshield. “See the string lights? Let’s go there.”
I park on the street and soon, we’re seated at an outdoor table. Trixie is under our feet with her own doggie bowl, and one of the staff comes out to fist bump Kit, an Asian guy he introduces as Tuan.
He takes our order and Kit leans forward on his forearms. “Wanna talk about it?”
The drive cooled me off a bit, though I’m still pissed as hell at my brother.
Kit continues, knowing me well enough that silence is an answer in itself. “Ethan pressed your buttons, huh?”
“He acted like it was all my fault.” The words tumble out. “It wasn’t my fault.”
“I know.”
“And my brother came to me, hat in hand, ‘Oh Alex, look how good of a farmer you are. Teach me your ways,’ the whole time thinking I’m to blame. Like, maybe he thought I should pay for something I didn’t even do when we were kids.”
“You were just a kid,” Kit agrees.
“Exactly. I was fifteen. Grandad never listened to what I had to say.”
“How old was Ethan?”
“Must’ve been sixteen or seventeen.” I scrub my face in my hands. Ethan is sixteen months older than me. “And Gran. She had to have known. Why didn’t she tell Ethan? Why does nobody talk to each other?” I spread my arms out wide, nearly knocking into a server carrying a stack of dirty plates, and apologize.
“Did she know?” Kit asks.
I keep my eyes and hands busy fiddling with a loose thread on the rolled-up napkin. Kit lets me gather my thoughts.
“I don’t know for certain,” I finally say. “Back then, maybe, I thought she would because they were essentially our parents, and Mom and Dad told each other everything. I didn’t understand that it wouldn’t be the same with Gran and Grandad. But now that we know he racked up all this debt without her knowing, and Gran’s…well, she’s a little different now.”
“How so?”
It’s hard to put my finger on what it is exactly, but I try to explain it. “You’ve been to the Sunday night dinners; you’ve seen her new garden. She invited Molly and Diane to live on the property.”
“She’s building her own little commune.” Kit chuckles.
It hits me like a two-by-four, and I’m so stunned by the thought that I just blink and stare into space to absorb it.
Kit tilts his head.
“Gran’s building a life after Grandad.”
My best friend reaches over and squeezes my shoulder.
Our food comes, tofu banh mi for me and lemongrass stir-fry chicken for Kit. Tuan brings out a little bowl of plain chicken and rice for Trixie, who’s going to be spoiled as hell tonight. I don’t have any kibble for her, so I’m just hoping she won’t develop a taste for the finer things in life.
“What about Molly?” Kit asks while cutting up his chicken.
Ugh. I don’t want to talk about Molly. I can vividly recall the shock on her face when I snapped at her. She didn’t know any better, but I did.
Molly didn’t make me spend time with my family. I could have said no, could have ignored the phone calls and kept my life exactly the way it was.
But the allure of a house filled with my family, a life with people who love me instead of work for me tempted me too much.
One fight, and it’s back to square one. Nothing between me and Ethan has changed, and even if I hadn’t said a horrible thing to Molly, she’s leaving me anyway. There’s nothing I can do about it.
Kit interrupts my inward spiral. “You know I love you, right?”
Immediately, my insides unwind. I owe Molly a massive apology, after which she’s going to leave me anyway, and Ethan will always view me as the villain, but I have Kit.
There’s a nudge against my shin.
And Trixie.