Chapter 15
Brayden
“Oh, this house is so lovely,” Isabelle exclaimed as we got out of the cab in front of my parents’ house.
It looked the same as it did when I was growing up: wooden facade painted in white, with a wraparound porch where I’d spent many afternoons writing songs in high school.
Mom brought me snacks from time to time, not even bothering to call me inside for dinner if I was in the middle of playing or writing.
She’d always been my biggest champion. I was very happy that I’d flown here to celebrate her birthday. It would mean a lot to her. If it weren’t for Isabelle, I wouldn’t be here at all.
“You’re doing a good thing, son,” Harry said. He’d driven us from the airport. For as long as I’d remembered, he’d been a cab driver. I was glad it hadn’t changed, despite Uber infiltrating our small town. He must have been in his seventies now, but he insisted he had nothing to do at home.
“Have a great day, Harry.”
Sasha had hired a local security company to tail us, so their car was right behind the cab. We could have asked them to drive us here, but I wanted Harry to make some money.
I brought my small suitcase and Isabelle’s huge one on the porch before knocking at the front door.
My smile widened as I heard footsteps from inside.
My mother opened the door. “Oh my goodness. Oh my goodness. I can’t believe this.”
I pulled her into a tight hug. She only noticed Isabelle off to my side as she kissed my cheek.
“And you brought Isabelle. Jana’s been following the tabloids, of course, and is keeping us informed.”
They’d posted something of a biography of Isabelle. I pulled all the strings I could so they didn’t find out her personal address.
Isabelle’s eyes widened. “Hi, Mrs. Clarke. I’m so happy to meet you.”
“And I you! Call me Esther.”
Mom hugged Isabelle too, who just hugged her right back without hesitation.
“Jana’s my cousin,” I informed Isabelle.
“Mark,” Mom said loudly, “come to the front. Quickly now.”
“Did you get another delivery?” Dad asked from the back of the house.
“No, no. Come here. You’ll see.”
Dad rushed toward us, jerking his head back when he noticed me and Isabelle.
I shook his hand, then pulled him in for one of those manly hugs he’d taught me as a kid. Fuck, I’d missed my parents. My old man released me, then focused completely on Isabelle.
“Mom, Dad, Isabelle and I have been seeing each other for a while. She’s the one who convinced me to fly out here.”
Mom smiled widely. “Did you kids eat anything on the way here? Your dad was about to start the barbecue.”
Isabelle laughed. “We ate a lot, but I’ll never say no to barbecue.”
“Perfect,” Dad exclaimed. “I’ll go back outside and get to work.”
Mom glanced upstairs, narrowing her eyes. “You two are going to sleep in the guest bedroom. I’ve made a yoga studio out of your old bedroom, Brayden, and anyway, you just had that small bed. Do you want to go straight upstairs, make yourselves comfortable while Dad and I finish preparing lunch?”
“Sure. I’ll bring the suitcases from outside. You don’t have to come up, Mom. I know where the guest bedroom is,” I teased her with a wink.
“Well, I hope so. It’s not been that long,” Mom said, heading to the kitchen.
Opening the front door, I grabbed the suitcases.
“You go first. It’s the room on the left,” I told Isabelle.
She practically jumped up the stairs. Her good mood was catchy.
She looked around with curiosity, chuckling at the pictures lining the staircase walls.
My parents had chronicled my childhood in these pictures.
There was a photo for everything, from learning to ride a bike to graduating high school.
The last picture was from my last trip home.
My hair was long, nearly touching my jaw, the look I’d sported when I was last here. I’d stayed away for too long.
“Oh, this is cozy,” Isabelle said, stepping inside the guest room. I’d barely put down the suitcases when I heard someone come up the steps.
“I forgot you don’t know where the towels are,” Mom said, sounding breathless. She peeked inside the room. “And there’s no shower gel in the bathroom, but I’ll bring you one from ours.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I said. Once she was out of earshot, I turned to Isabelle. “I’ve never seen her so jumpy.”
“Well… she wasn’t expecting you, and she was still too surprised downstairs to think about logistics. Sounds to me like she’s slipping into Mom mode. My mother does the same when I’m home.”
We didn’t unpack and immediately went back down. My parents were waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs.
“Mom, Dad, I forbid you to share any weird stories,” I said, figuring I’d get that out in the open right away.
Dad patted my shoulder. “Son, you might be famous and grown-up, but if I want to share stories with this young lady, that’s my God-given right.”
Isabelle grinned. “That’s right. I’m with you on that, Mr. Clarke. It’s a sibling and parent prerogative.”
“Whose side are you on?” I asked.
“What does it look like?” Isabelle replied, batting her eyelashes. “Besides, you got enough insider info from my mom. It’s my turn now.”
I liked watching Isabelle interact with my parents. She was a natural at this and seemed content being here. Not that I expected anything different after seeing her with her family; Isabelle loved people in general and was a caring human being.
Mom clapped her hands once. “Come on, let’s finish lunch.”
She led us in the back to the summer kitchen.
My parents had it built back when I was in middle school and practically spent all the warm months out here.
It was all under a white gazebo. The appliances and grill were in one corner, the table with six chairs on the other side, next to a working station and cabinets.
Mom immediately split tasks. Dad was starting the fire, she was seasoning the meat, I was in charge of the salad, and Isabelle was setting the table. This had always been a golden rule in their household: “no one is allowed to slack.”
“So, Esther, I need some embarrassing stories,” Isabelle announced. “Preferably from high school.”
“Oh, I don’t know too many of those. But his cousins can fill you in. They’re good girls, and they were joined at the hip as kids. They’re coming for lunch.” She glanced at me over her shoulder. “They can’t wait to see you.”
“When did you tell them I was here?”
“As soon as you arrived. Everyone’s been missing you. They’d give me too much trouble if I didn’t tell them.”
“That’s true,” I conceded, turning to Isabelle. “You’ll like Jana and Donna.”
“Can’t wait to meet them. Now I understand why we have so much food.”
I chuckled. “No, my parents always cook at least twice as much as necessary.”
“Hey, you never know who’ll drop by for a quick bite. Wouldn’t do to be unprepared,” Mom shot back.
“We’re big on hospitality here,” Dad added.
Jana and Donna arrived about twenty minutes later.
They were my cousins on Mom’s side and looked very similar to her: dark brown hair and vibrant blue eyes.
Donna was taller than Jana, which had annoyed Jana since we were kids because she was older.
People often mistook us as siblings when we were kids, and we didn’t always correct them.
Donna immediately hugged me, nearly strangling me. “Oh, we’ve missed you.”
“You couldn’t have missed me that much. You were in New York in March.”
Pulling back, she punched my forearm. “Hey, you could at least pretend you missed us.”
“Yeah. You just arrived. You can’t be mean to us already,” Jana added.
I held up my hands in defense. “I’m pointing out the truth. And I want to introduce you to someone.”
They turned toward Isabelle at the same time.
“Isabelle Gallagher,” Jana exclaimed. “Therapist, tour guide, and enthusiastic foodie.”
Isabelle jerked her head back even as she shook hands with both of them. “Nice to meet you. Where did you get all that information?”
“Well, those pics also had your name attached… and then we stalked your LinkedIn and Facebook profiles,” Jana said proudly. “Instagram too.”
Donna was glaring at me. “Yeah, we were hoping our dear cousin would call and tell us about you, but when he kept mum, we had to take matters into our own hands.”
“You’re never going to learn to mind your own business, are you?” I teased.
Donna rolled her eyes. “Never.”
Jana looked around. “Okay, we can gang up on him later. What can we do to help? The grill smells like it’s almost done.”
Dad waved his hand. “Sit down, all of you. I’ll just put the meat and cheese on plates and bring it to the table.”
A few minutes later, our plates were full. From the first bite of steak, I was transported to my childhood days. My parents used the same seasoning. I’d forgotten what it tasted like.
“So our task for the party tonight is to pick up a box of decorations from the general store. Want to join us, Isabelle? We can show you around town,” Donna said.
“Only if you promise to give me as much dirt as possible on Brayden. I’ve heard you two are the perfect source for it.”
“Oh yes we are,” Jana exclaimed proudly. “Who told you that?”
“Mom called you two ‘good girls,’” I added, barely holding back laughter.
Donna gaped at Mom. “Esther, I don’t remember you praising us as kids. You were always calling us spawns of the devil.”
“You three were driving me insane, and a certain someone was helping you do it.” She glared at Dad, who shrugged.
“Kids are kids. And they turned out fine.”
“You did,” Mom conceded.
Donna wiggled her eyebrows at me. “We have so many stories about him.”
“I’ll come too,” I said calmly.
“No you won’t,” Dad butted in. “That party tent won’t build itself.”
“Please tell me it’s not that same old tarp from when I was a kid.”
“It’s a perfectly good party tent,” Mom said.
The Blue Falls General Store owned two party tents that they rented out. They’d been old and gray even when I was a kid.
“Wait a second. Who was going to help you out if I wasn’t here?” I asked.
“Jerry and Hank,” Dad answered, referring to my cousins’ husbands. “And they’re helping anyway.”
I caught Isabelle’s eye, and she winked at me.
She fit in here so seamlessly and didn’t seem to think that helping was beneath her, or mind that my parents led a simple life.
I was damn grateful to her for convincing me to come to Mom’s birthday.
She had a way of making me take things easier and enjoy life more. She made me happy.
How the hell was I supposed to let her go?