Chapter 4 Nate
NATE
Isat in the rental car, engine off, staring at the neat little place my parents now called home. It was much smaller than I had expected.
The house looked like every other one on the street. New build, beige brick, zero personality. The lawn was immaculate, the hedges trimmed to regulation height, not a single thing out of place. A wooden dock stretched out behind it, reaching toward the lake as if it were trying to escape.
Yeah. I knew that feeling.
My sister’s minivan was parked in the driveway, which meant I wasn’t walking into this alone. Small mercy. It also meant witnesses, which cut both ways. Harder for things to go south with the kids around. Harder for me to leave early without looking like an asshole.
I checked the time on my phone. 12:02. Already late. Not late enough to be rude, but late enough that he’d notice. He always noticed.
My hand found the door handle, but I didn’t pull it.
I wasn’t a kid anymore. I was thirty-two years old, six-three, and I’d served my country for a decade. I’d led men into situations that would make most people piss themselves. I’d earned my place in this world.
But none of that seemed to matter when I looked at that front door.
I blew out a breath, long and slow.
“Get it together,” I muttered.
Then I grabbed the six-pack I’d brought and got out of the car.
My mother opened the door before I’d made it halfway up the path.
“Nathaniel.” She smiled, the same careful smile she’d been giving me since I was old enough to notice it didn’t mean anything. “You found us alright?”
“GPS did the heavy lifting.”
She accepted the six-pack with a nod and stepped aside to let me in. No hug. There’d never been hugs in this family, not unless you counted the awkward side-arm thing she did at funerals. I didn’t.
The inside of the house matched the outside.
Beige walls, beige carpet, furniture that looked like it came as a set from a showroom floor.
A solitary mirror and a clock hung on the wall.
Just clean lines and empty space, completely devoid of photos, clutter, or any sign that actual humans lived here.
My father sat in an armchair by the window, newspaper open on his lap. He looked up when I walked in, gave me a once-over like he was checking my uniform for infractions, and returned his attention to the paper.
“Son.”
“Sir.”
And that was that.
Kelly was on the sofa, Scott beside her with the baby asleep in a carrier strapped to his chest. My sister looked good. Same brown hair as me, pulled back in a ponytail, same stubborn set to her jaw. She stood, crossing the room to pull me into a hug. A real one. Brief, but real.
“Good to see you, Nate.”
“You too.”
It came out stiffer than I meant it to. Three years since I’d seen her last, and I wasn’t sure how to bridge the gap.
Scott was on his feet now, hand extended. “Nate. Good to have you back, man.”
I shook it, grateful for the easy warmth. “Thanks.”
A small face peered out from behind the sofa, big eyes tracking me warily.
Kelly held out her hand. “Jasper, come say hi. This is Uncle Nate, remember? We talked about him.”
Jasper didn’t move. Just kept staring at me, one hand gripping the arm of the chair.
“Hey, buddy.” I lifted a hand in a small wave, keeping my distance. “I like your dinosaur shirt.”
His gaze dropped to his shirt, then flicked back up. The suspicion in his eyes dialled down a notch.
“It’s a T-Rex,” he said very seriously.
“Yeah? That’s pretty cool.”
He considered this, then retreated behind the chair again. Kelly gave me an apologetic look, but I shook my head. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t know me from a stranger.
“Beer?” Scott gestured toward the six-pack my mother had set on the counter.
“God, yes.”
Kelly raised an eyebrow. “It’s barely noon.”
“And?”
She shrugged. “Fair point. Grab me one too.”
We didn’t make it through the first round before my mother called us to the table. She’d laid out roast beef, vegetables, gravy, and crusty bread.
“So, Nate,” Kelly speared a piece of potato. “How was the drive down from Esperance?”
“Fine. Not much traffic.”
“That’s good. The roads can get pretty busy on weekends.”
“Yeah.”
Silence.
Kelly tried again. “And where are you staying? At the Ballantyne?”
“Uh, no, actually. I’m at Dan’s parents’ place.”
My mother’s hand stilled on her fork, just for a moment. She didn’t look up.
“Oh, that’s very nice of them. Better than a hotel, that’s for sure.” Kelly, saving the day again.
“Yeah, it is. I tried to decline, but Nancy insisted.”
“That sounds like Nancy.” She smiled. “How are they all doing? Dan still at the fire station?”
“Yeah, he is. He seems good.”
“Not married or anything?”
“No.”
“And Maya? She must be, what, late twenties now?”
I took a longer pull of my beer than was strictly necessary. “I think so. She’s a park ranger.”
“Oh, that’s perfect for her. She was always outdoorsy, even as a kid.” Kelly tilted her head. “She still with that guy? Trevor, I think his name was. I remember bumping into them a while back.”
“No idea.”
But fuck, the very idea of Maya with someone else twisted my gut into a toxic knot. Nope. Shut that down, stat. We’re not going there.
There was more silence after that. Mom fussed with the gravy boat. Dad chewed his food and said nothing.
Kelly glanced at our father, then back at me. “So, any plans now that you’re out? Job-wise, I mean.”
The fact that I couldn’t answer that had me squirming in my seat. I took a sip of beer, buying myself a second.
“Still figuring it out.”
My father made a sound of disapproval.
“Something to say, Dad?” Kelly’s voice was light, but there was a warning in it.
He set down his knife and fork carefully. “Just wondering what a man does with himself after ten years of taking orders.”
There it was.
“Thornton,” my mother murmured. It wasn’t a reprimand. More like a reflex.
“It’s a fair question.” He picked up his beer, took a slow sip. “The military’s good for some people. Gives them structure. Purpose. Without it...” He shrugged, letting the silence fill in the rest.
My jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached. The clock on the mantel ticked, loud and mocking in the dead air of the dining room. I stared at my father. The urge to list every commendation I’d earned, the real life battles I’d fought, was almost overwhelming. But what was the fucking point?
Forcing my hands to uncurl under the table, I picked up my fork and deliberately took a bite of beef.
“The roast is delicious, Mom,” Kelly said, too bright. “Is this the recipe from that website you were telling me about?”
My mother grabbed the lifeline with both hands. “It is, yes. I made a few adjustments, but...”
Her voice faded into white noise while I cut my meat into precise squares. Chewed. Swallowed. Just got through it.
The moment my plate was clear, I pushed back from the table.
“I should head out. Long drive back.”
It wasn’t that long. Forty minutes, maybe. But nobody called me on it.
“Already?” My mother stood, reaching for my plate. “I was going to make coffee.”
“Next time.”
She nodded. Whether she was disappointed or relieved was anyone’s guess.
I said my goodbyes. Shook Scott’s hand, dropped a kiss on the baby’s head because it seemed like the thing to do, and crouched down to Jasper’s level.
“See you later, buddy.”
He studied me for a long moment, then, so fast I almost missed it, he lifted his hand in a small wave. The same wave I’d given him earlier.
Something in my chest loosened, just a fraction.
My father didn’t get up from his chair. “Drive safe.”
“Yes, sir.”
Kelly walked out. We stepped onto the porch together, and she pulled the door half-closed behind her.
“Sorry about him,” she said quietly.
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”
“I know. But still.” She crossed her arms, looking out at the street. “He’s gotten worse since they moved down here. Retirement doesn’t suit him.”
What the fuck was I supposed to say to that?
She turned to face me. “It’s good to have you back, Nate. I mean it.”
“Yeah.” I shoved my hands in my pockets. “It’s good to see you too.”
Years of distance sat between us and for a moment, neither of us moved. Then she reached out and squeezed my arm, just once.
“Don’t be a stranger, okay?”
I nodded. It was all I could manage.
Back in the car, I sat with my hands on the wheel, tension screaming in every muscle.
One lunch. That’s all it had taken to remind me why I’d stayed away so long.
I needed a plan. A job, a direction, something solid enough to build a life on. What I needed more than anything was to shake the dust of North Carolina from my boots. A-fucking-SAP.
I started the engine and eased out of the driveway without looking back.