Chapter Two
Ben
My older brother Liam and I pulled in front of Mom and Dad’s place at the same time, taking up the two street spots right in front of their butter-yellow bungalow. He was one year older than me, but I’d lost count of how many people asked if we were twins. We both had Dad’s light brown hair and long, squared face shape. Same lips. Same nose. We even both got Mom’s sky blue eyes. The only obvious difference was that I had an inch or two on him in height, though he claimed the broader shoulders and a bit more muscle.
“You ready?” Liam asked, grabbing a pastel pink pastry box from the passenger seat of his shiny black Dodge Ram 1500.
It was from Ava’s bakery, the words “The Rolling Scone” doing their best imitation of French patisserie scripting across the top. Which meant whatever was in that box would be calorific and delicious.
“It’s just another day.” I pulled a bag with champagne and orange juice from my own car.
Liam’s frown told me he wasn’t going to be taking any shit. “It’s not just another day,” he clipped, “and at some point you’re going to have to come to terms with it.”
“Liam,” I shot back, lowering my voice so Mom couldn’t possibly overhear, “it was over twenty years ago. I was like eight years old. There’s nothing to come to terms with .”
He shrugged, heading up the cement sidewalk toward the house. “Whatever you say.”
The cream-colored front door swung open and I braced myself for whatever state Mom might be in today. She wasn’t emotionally unstable or anything, at least not any more than normal, but today was Grandma Day—the day my Grandma died, way back when I was a kid.
The first few years were really hard on Mom. She’d been so close with Grandma that Dad and us boys made sure she was never alone on the anniversary of losing her. Before we knew what had happened, it became a tradition, although these days it was more of an extended breakfast than an all-day affair.
I wasn’t particularly sentimental. I’d rather just keep moving forward. But it meant a lot to my mom to take this day every year and remember Grandma, so here I was, mimosas in hand.
“Morning, boys,” Mom greeted us with a warm smile, pulling each of us in for a hug and a giant kiss on the cheek as we walked by her.
We strolled down the picture-lined hallway straight to the kitchen in the back of the cozy house. It was an older home, built in the 1920s, and the rooms were smaller and more enclosed than people liked nowadays. To me, it just felt like home.
And today, it smelled like maple syrup, savory bacon, and a whole mess of eggs. Grabbing three wine glasses from the cabinet, I poured us each a mimosa. Mom wasn’t the champagne-flute type.
“Your dad called this morning and wanted me to tell you he’s sorry he couldn’t make it this year.” Mom’s voice fell an octave as she relayed the message.
“How’s Ireland treating him?” I asked, handing her one of the glasses. She clearly needed it. “Wasn’t he supposed to be back for the summer?”
She took a telling sip. “He was, but he just heard back that they’ve been awarded the grant, which means he’ll need to get started immediately to meet the first deadline he outlined.”
“Talk about short notice,” Liam snorted, opening the box to reveal overstuffed cinnamon rolls swimming in icing.
“He wasn’t thrilled that they took so long to get back to him, but at least he got the funding.”
Dad should be here, though. I loved that he went after a second career so late in life, but if he wasn’t careful it was going to cost him his marriage. Mom was tough, but I could see it wearing on her to be apart for so many months out of the year.
After losing his job as a factory manager during layoffs, Dad decided it was time to go back to school and get his dream degree in archaeology. With strong family ties to Ireland, he zoned in on his specialization and before he was forty he was at his first dig and loving life.
But Mom didn’t go with him. He didn’t technically move to Ireland, he just spent several months there each year on a visa. When he first went, Liam and I were still too young to leave to our own devices, so Mom stayed to see us through the rest of high school and get us settled into college and adulthood. I don’t know why she didn’t go with him after that, but I was sure she had her reasons.
And those reasons—whatever they might be—were my number one priority. Liam left town after high school to pursue his football career, going as far as a few years in the NFL as a running back. But that just left Mom even more alone, and I could see her hurting from it.
So I stayed.
I knew she sacrificed a lot to raise us, and I was more than happy to return the favor. But now that Liam was back to coach at the high school, I hoped to finally get out of Cedar Springs and experience something other than small town life. My plan was to either convince her to go join Dad in Ireland and have an adventure, or to slowly spend more time away until it didn’t shock the hell out of her when I announced I wanted to leave.
Mom dished us all plates of maple bacon and eggs and we took our seats at the oval wooden table that had been in the family longer than I had. I dug right in, but Mom grabbed herself a big old cinnamon roll from the box and took a bite.
“Dessert first, eh?” I teased.
Instead of laughing, Mom set down her fork. “I’ve been thinking.”
Liam and I shared a wide-eyed look, all joking aside.
“You okay, Mom?” I set down my own fork to give her all my attention.
“I think it’s time to sell the house.”
It was a good thing I wasn’t eating, because I would’ve choked. “Are you going to Ireland, then?”
Mom squinted in confusion, before shaking her head. “Not this house. Grandma’s house.” She took a deep, deliberate breath. “I think it’s time,” she repeated, as though trying to convince herself.
I didn’t ask if she was sure about it, because she wouldn’t have said anything if she hadn’t been tossing and turning with it for weeks already. Instead, I opted for support.
“Do you want me to take care of it for you?” I was a realtor, after all. “I won’t even take a cut. I’ll do it pro bono.”
Mom tsked at me, as she always did when she felt like someone was offering too much. “You’ll take your cut, and I won’t hear another word about it.”
I smiled to myself and went back to my eggs. “I can start whenever you’re ready.”
“Today seems like the perfect day for it,” she mused aloud, her eyes wandering toward the ceiling in thought. “It is Grandma’s day, after all.”
This was huge. To my knowledge, Mom hadn’t even visited Grandma’s house since she’d died, except maybe to find any needed paperwork and get the utilities shut off. I hadn’t been there since I was eight, when we went to visit her while she was sick. I shivered, taking a deep drink of my mimosa and shoving that memory back into the abyss where it belonged.
“Did something happen?” Liam asked.
She shook her head again, eating the rest of her cinnamon roll instead of answering. When she finally spoke, it was clearly directed at Liam.
“I heard Riley’s coming back to visit this weekend.”
Liam swallowed, even though I was fairly certain he hadn’t taken a bite. “I’m sure her parents will be happy to see her.”
“I thought maybe you knew why she was visiting,” Mom probed.
“Nope.” Liam crunched half a piece of bacon.
Mom opened her mouth to continue the inquisition, but I could tell she’d blindsided Liam. I hurried to his rescue.
“I’ll go ahead and start getting the sale process underway,” I said before she could make Liam squirm any more. “Do you want me to keep you in the loop?”
“No, no. No need. Just tell me if there’s an offer or if you need something.”
“You got it.”
The rest of breakfast carried on as expected. Mom told us nothing about herself, and everything about everyone else. Liam talked up the team. I didn’t offer up much about myself, just asking questions and enjoying a little taste of home.
When we’d finished eating, Liam and I stayed to help clean up, piling plates into the dishwasher while Mom packed up the leftovers. She shoved a plastic to-go container stuffed with pastries, bacon, and eggs into each of our hands on our way out.
Liam turned to me halfway across the lawn to our cars. “You’re coming tomorrow, right?”
“Tomorrow?” I scoured my mind for something I’d planned for a random Tuesday, but came up short.
“To Schuman’s to help move the bales?”
Crap. “Yeah, of course. I’ll be there.”
Every year I got volunteered, usually by Mom, and somehow I still forgot. No problem. I’d have Iris shuffle things around.
I needed to savor mornings like these while I could, because if the sale of Grandma’s place was any indicator, Mom might finally be ready for my plans to relocate. It meant that maybe, just maybe, she was starting to move on from losing Grandma. Maybe she was thinking about joining Dad in Ireland, though she seemed a bit shocked by that suggestion. Maybe she felt more connected with the past now that Liam had moved back to Cedar Springs.
Whatever the reason for her change of heart, as I left Mom’s and headed down the road to Grandma’s, I was surprised to find myself agreeing with Liam’s earlier statement.
Maybe it wasn’t just any other day after all.