Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Jonah
When I pulled up in front of my parents’ place, a giant Conex was sitting on the concrete pad in front of the house.
“What the hell?” I got out and stared at the giant metal box. A little over a month ago, Mom had told me they were thinking of selling to Rhys Kinkade. Were they clearing out already? We were at the beginning of April, but there was still snow on the ground.
The sight took the focus off the nerves that had been tightening my gut all the way out here, but only for a moment. I’d come for a reason that I wasn’t sure they’d like, but I had to talk to them before word got out in town.
Dad came out of the house with his silver travel mug of coffee. His dark brows rose when he saw me. “Jonah? Hey.”
Guilt wound through my intestines at his surprise. “Hi, Dad. You heading out?”
“Eh, I’ve got a few errands to run.” Meaning his coffee-and-chat time at the gas station.
I had hoped to catch him when he was returning, but like me, he was getting a late start.
I’d had to wait for the delivery truck to arrive and, not as painstakingly as I would’ve liked, load the custom table and stools.
“But I can stay a minute. I heard I missed your last stop.”
Which was over a month ago.
Time could fly in my isolated world. “I was hoping to talk with you and Mom. Is she around?”
A line of worry etched Dad’s brow. I’d stopped in out of nowhere. They were moving, and I’d been so wrapped up in Summer and work that I hadn’t reached out to see what they needed help with.
They probably thought I was still upset about the house and property getting sold, but I was actually getting over it. They were aging and had to do what was right for themselves.
“She’s inside. Come on in. She might’ve even left some coffee.”
I followed Dad in. Mom was at a cupboard in the kitchen and an open box was on the floor next to her. She glanced over her shoulder and did a double take. “Oh. Jonah.”
More surprise. Did I really not come over that often?
I tried to think of the times I’d been here to have a meal or just to talk.
There were a few times I’d come home after I was out of the hospital, mending as much as my body had been capable, but they’d jumped around to help me navigate the house, and when they hadn’t been jumping, the place had been quiet.
My brother hadn’t been home, he’d never be home again, and the silence had gotten to me.
“Got any coffee left?” I went to the cupboard next to the one she’d been cleaning out. I paused when I opened the door. Only a few glasses and mugs remained. Everything else had presumably been packed. I took the same mug I had used last time. “I didn’t realize you were moving already.”
“Sort of.” Mom poured what was left in my mug and set about making a fresh pot.
“Rhys would like to move in before the next school year starts, so we’re aiming to be out in July.
” She waved the empty pot around the room.
“There’ll be cleaning and stuff, but he said not to worry too much.
” She paused and her brows drew together.
“I, uh, have been meaning to ask you if there was anything you wanted. I know you don’t like the idea of us leaving. ”
I still didn’t, but the thought didn’t bother me like it had before. “I’m fine with your decision. Yes, it came as a shock. This place has been a constant, but we all know how things can change. I have my life and a job, and you two need to do what’s best for you.”
Dad slid into his standard chair at the table. “That’s a relief to hear.”
Mom’s smile was hesitant. “I could tell the news bothered you.”
“I might have to come around more so you can update me.”
“I’d like that,” she said softly. “I’m always afraid I’m bugging you with my calls.”
“No, don’t ever worry about that. I was working all weekend, so that’s why I didn’t answer your texts right away.
” I almost drew out my phone to show them pictures of the table and chairs that were en route to their owner, but I hadn’t taken any.
Damn. “So, how much do you have to do before Rhys is the official owner?”
Would they need my help with any of it?
“He told us not to bother with the painting or any remodeling,” Dad said. “He’ll do what he wants to the place.”
Mom’s expression turned wistful. “I get so much joy thinking about this house being filled with kids’ laughter again. Can you imagine? He has two girls. Pink everywhere.”
Dad leaned back in his chair and propped a hand on the back of Mom’s. “Girls these days don’t only like pink.”
“Well.” Mom shrugged but didn’t lose that wistful expression. “I’ll be grateful that this place can have energy within its walls again.”
The sense of failure hit deep. Mom and Dad had wanted a vibrant home full of grandkids. They’d wanted both sons alive and well, and they only had one son who was alive and for so long hadn’t been well.
Mom waved her hand through the air like she was scattering away the happy images she’d just painted with Rhys and his girls in the house. “Anyway, you said you wanted to talk?”
Tension cramped my stomach, making the hot coffee sear the lining. “Yeah, I did.” I took another sip and embraced the burn all the way down. Ordinarily, especially after what Mom had said, this would be good news. But I didn’t know how they’d interpret it. “I’m . . . seeing someone.”
Both parents blinked at me. Dad set his cup down with a thunk, a crease forming in his forehead. Mom continued to blink, her lips turning down.
“It’s not Jackie, is it?” Dad asked. He held both his hands up. “I mean, I’m sure she’s nice and all, it’s just that—”
“It’s Summer,” Mom uttered quietly, her gaze dropping to the table. It wasn’t a leap for her to make the connection. “You and Summer have started seeing each other.”
I dipped my head down as sheer relief flashed across Dad’s face, followed by a furrowed brow and a slight frown.
“Summer Kerrigan?” Dad asked, like he wanted to make damn sure he was correct before forming an opinion.
“Yes.”
“You two got close when she was stranded at your place?” he asked, perplexed.
“Uh, no, not like you’d think.” Grateful I had a chance to explain that I wasn’t a creep who’d swooped in on a brokenhearted bride, I explained. “She came out again a few weeks later to bring me some groceries for the storm. She doesn’t think I eat enough fresh produce.”
Mom grunted her agreement. She’d rarely seen inside my fridge, but she also dropped off garden staples at regular intervals. I’d thought she’d been using the delivery excuses to snoop on me, but based on Summer’s reaction, no, Mom’d had the same worry.
Maybe I would’ve gotten fucking scurvy without either of them interfering.
“She got stranded again,” I continued. “I didn’t know she was coming and slipped on a puddle of water, and she stayed to make sure I was okay. By the time I reassured her I was fine, the wind picked up and she was stuck. Again.”
Dad’s eyes narrowed, reminding me of when Eli and I were kids and the tractor that had just been fixed broke down. Dad had thought we were up to hijinks, but both me and Eli had been cutting hay and behaving, for once.
“Oh. That’s . . . nice.” Mom pondered her coffee. “She always was a nice girl.”
“Yeah.” I didn’t know what else to say. “We realize that people will remember she and Eli were a thing.” I wouldn’t mention the breakup. My parents had been through enough. “We’re taking it slow, but eventually we’ll be seen together and people will know.”
“That you and her are a thing?” Mom’s lips pressed together. “She’s only two months out from her wedding.”
Barely. “I know.” I had no argument. People might say horrible shit about Summer for moving on so quickly.
“Then slow is prudent.” Mom’s reassuring smile crinkled the corners of her eyes but didn’t reach the irises. “You’re happy?”
I nodded. “I’ve been out. With her. Bozeman, mostly. But Mae invited me to dinner at her place this weekend.”
“That’s nice,” Mom uttered. “Eli was crazy about her.” Her guilty gaze slid toward me. “But that was a long time ago.”
“Sometimes, it feels like yesterday.”
Dad cleared his throat. To them, bringing up Summer meant remembering Eli. To all of us, that made losing him feel like yesterday.
“You look good.” Mom tipped her head, inspecting me. “She the reason for the change?”
“Sort of. She didn’t ask for it.” I ran my fingers over my trimmed hair. “I’ve been getting my hair cut in Bozeman when I’m there. The anonymity is nice.” Intoxicating. Only passing glances that skipped over me.
“Once people start seeing you more,” Dad said, spinning his mug in his hands, “they’ll quit talking. I spent years never going inside the gas station. I finally ventured in, endured the stares, did it again, and again. Now?” He chuffed out a breath. “I’m one of them.”
“I thought you were just running errands,” I teased.
Both parents chuckled, and for the first time in over fifteen years, I felt like the old Jonah. The guy who hadn’t let down his brother, his parents, and his best friend. I was the guy who hadn’t yelled at Summer when she’d needed just as much understanding and support as I had.
I let myself soak in the joy, in the comfort for a moment, and then I caught sight of that packing box again.
I might’ve gotten a haircut, I might have even been out on a date, but I was still that guy who’d retreated from the world and everyone who cared about him.
It was easy to be different, to think I was different wandering around Bozeman, where nobody knew me.
But at home? I was trying to change, but Bourbon Canyon was changing too.
And it was changing a hell of a lot faster than I was.
Summer
I was staying with Jonah again, and we drove to Mama’s together. I’d asked her to keep the dinner casual and as private as possible, and true to her word, it was just us.