Chapter 2
Chapter
Two
M axwell let himself into his mother’s house as quietly as he could, but of course, her miniature poodle greeted him at the door with a series of yaps and growls.
“Max, honey? Is that you?”
He sighed. “Yes, Mom. Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“No trouble. I was waiting up for you.” She appeared in the archway to the great room. “You must have had a better time than you expected to have stayed this late.”
“It was okay. Interesting.”
Mom beamed. Trust her to read more into that comment than Maxwell had meant. “Let me put on a pot of tea, and you can tell me all about the classmates you spoke with.”
The calendar seemed to flip back by 15 years. But she was probably lonely living here by herself. Princess didn’t count. The least he could do was humor her in the few days he’d be her guest. “Sure. There’s not much to tell, though.”
He followed her into the kitchen and took a seat at the long island while she bustled around. “Have you ever considered moving to Montana?”
Mom pivoted on her heel to stare at him, dropping a teabag on the granite counter. “No. Never. Why would I?”
“Just wondered. With Tate and Stephanie and the boys settled there, I thought you might like to be near your grandsons.”
“Gilead is home.”
“What’s keeping you here? You work remotely, and Jewel Lake has great internet coverage since they invested in infrastructure a few years ago.”
She fluttered a hand. “My sister. My church. My friends. My volunteer work.”
“I think you’d love Montana if you gave it a chance.”
Mom swished boiling water inside the teapot and dumped it down the drain before refilling it and adding the teabags. “Why? Aren’t you planning on returning to Chicago when Walter’s project is complete, if it ever is? Because I’m certainly not moving there .” She always called her ex-father-in-law, who was also her employer, by his first name.
“Not sure. Montana is growing on me. I might go into construction there when Grandfather stops churning out ideas for me to build.”
She huffed. “That won’t be until he’s dead, and he shows little sign of slowing down for all he’s 82.”
Maxwell chomped back a comment about how Dad and his brother, Theodore, were convinced Grandfather was losing his marbles. Not a chance. The old man saw right through all their maneuvering.
“Anyway, there’s plenty going on around Jewel Lake and Missoula. I’m positive I could keep my crew busy if I decided to put down roots.”
Mom’s lips tightened. “And who knows about Bryce.”
Maxwell nodded. No point in going there with Mom. His middle brother shrugged off responsibility like water off a duck’s back, doing the bare minimum to keep on the Sullivan payroll. Someday, Bryce was sure to grow up, but he appeared to be resisting that moment for as long as possible.
She gave her head a shake. “So, who did you see at the icebreaker? What are the plans for the rest of the weekend?”
“I ran into Stuart Brandt and some of his buddies. I can’t believe he married Joanie, and they have four kids already.”
“He turned into such a fine young man.” Mom smiled. “The Bible college is lucky to have him in the Fine Arts department.”
“Uh, yeah. I suppose.” Maxwell might be miles ahead of his brother in meeting the challenges of adulthood, but Stuart Brandt left them both in the dust. Until tonight, Max had thought he was doing decently with his life. He employed half a dozen workers and paid them well. He’d done some traveling and lived the good life. But had he missed out?
He kind of knew he had. He’d been so focused on his business he hadn’t noticed Heather as more than a bright mind with an eye for design and numbers — a rare combination, in his experience — before she’d given her notice last spring and returned to her hometown to marry some guy she hadn’t even mentioned to Maxwell beforehand. Would he have had a chance with her if he’d been more proactive?
Maybe. But it likely didn’t matter. He’d only lost a couple of nights’ sleep on the what-ifs. And then life continued.
“Who else did you talk to?” Mom set a teacup in front of him.
“Eryn Ralston for a bit.”
“Poor girl.” Mom shook her head. “She’s had it rough.”
“I was shocked to hear of Amelia’s death. Did you know?”
“Oh, that was dreadful. Her car skidded on ice in the very same intersection where her mother died years ago.”
“You could have told me.”
Mom frowned at him. “I didn’t realize you knew them.”
“The Ralstons hosted all those sleigh rides and corn mazes back in the day. The twins were in my class.” Plus, he’d kind of had a thing for Amelia, not that a junior-high crush mattered 15 years later. Mostly, Maxwell had been focused on escaping Gilead at his first opportunity.
“Oh, that’s right. I didn’t think much about it. Amelia’s accident happened right about the time of Wally and Ashley’s. A few weeks later, I think.”
“I get it.” And he did. Losing her firstborn had spun Mom into quite a spiral there for a while. Tate had come home to stay with her and help with Jamie, who’d been barely a year old.
Maxwell couldn’t blame her for the oversight, all things considered. Besides, what would he have done if he’d known? Come home for Amelia’s funeral? Sent a sympathy card? Probably nothing.
“Some of the people from church help Keith out here and there. I think he’s fallen on hard times since his daughter died.” Mom shook her head and took a sip of tea.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Eryn hadn’t mentioned anything, but why would she have? Maxwell was practically a stranger, and a person didn’t go around dumping financial woes on strangers. Not unless they were reduced to begging on a street corner with a cardboard sign in one hand and a tin cup in the other.
“Who else did you talk to?”
Maxwell thought over the evening. “No one else for more than a minute or two. Heavenly Brew catered coffee and snacks, there were some games, and a band comprised of some of my former classmates performed. And we got the schedule for the rest of the weekend.”
He’d sat beside Eryn during the short program, since they’d been chatting when it started. No need to mention that to Mom, since she already heard wedding bells everywhere. Maxwell’s cousin Graham’s wedding had been last weekend in Montana, and Mom couldn’t stop talking about it. Negatively, because it had taken place at the main lodge at Sweet River Ranch and hadn’t been a big society affair in an upscale Chicago venue. Positively, because it was impossible to deny how happy Graham and Cadence were together.
And Paisley Teele had been flashing an engagement ring from another of Max’s cousins, Weston. They were planning a spring wedding. No wonder Mom had romance in mind, though Maxwell and Bryce had given her zero reason to believe they were moving in that direction anytime soon.
After tonight, Maxwell had weddings on the brain, too. He’d be 30 in a few weeks. Stuart Brandt had a wife and four kids. Maxwell had no prospects at all.
What had he even accomplished so far in his life?
Dad should not be sitting at the kitchen table, gloomily nursing a cup of coffee at 10:00 at night. He glanced up as Eryn entered and offered a wan smile. “Hi.”
“Are you okay?” She set her crossbody purse on the closet shelf and kicked her sneakers into the bottom.
Dad shifted his gaze. “I think we need to talk.”
A sense of foreboding settled in Eryn’s gut. “About what?”
“There’s no easy way to start this conversation, so I’ll get right to it. Larry Groening offered to buy the farm.”
Eryn sagged into the wooden chair around the corner from Dad. “But you said no, right? We’ll get on top of this.” How? No clue.
He shook his head. “I agreed. He’s expanding his market garden and can use the acreage. Maybe I can even work for him.”
“But you can’t?—”
Dad looked over at her with a woebegone expression. “I’ve been holding you back. What girl your age wants to keep house for her old man?”
“Me!”
“Do you really?” He huffed a laugh. “Or do you just feel sorry for me?”
Eryn opened her mouth to protest but snapped it shut before finally finding words. “We’re a team. We’re all we have left.”
“You should be finding yourself some nice young man. Get married. Have a few kids. I could enjoy having young’uns around again.”
“There isn’t any guy I want to date, let alone marry.” Maxwell’s kind eyes and fine form drifted in front of her mind’s eye, but that was ridiculous. Just because they’d chatted for 20 minutes and found themselves seated next to one other for the program didn’t mean they were anything to each other. She banished the thought.
“I just couldn’t hold onto the farm anymore, Rynie. The bank refused to let up the pressure, and my heart’s not into fighting any longer. It’s time to let go.”
She’d be willing to bet this sort of thing never happened in the Sullivan family with all their wealth.
Bitterness does not become you, Eryn. They earned their security.
But had they really? Had Maxwell? Or had he simply lucked out being born into a family with money while she’d drawn the short straw for poverty? Which also didn’t change anything.
“I’ll work more hours and give you more of my paycheck.”
Dad shook his head. “You’ve done enough. All you could, and more than I deserved. Besides, it’s final. I met with Larry and Karen at the lawyer’s office this afternoon and signed papers.”
“And you’re only telling me when it’s a done deal?” She surged to her feet and stared down at her father.
“Because I knew you’d fight me, but there was no other way. Believe me, Rynie. I’ve tried.”
“But…
“You’re so much like your mother.”
“I think you’re confusing me with Amelia. She was the beautiful one who could charm the socks off of anyone.”
Dad shook his head with a sad laugh. “She might have looked more like your mother, but you have Kendra’s spunk and loyalty. Your sister did not have those qualities.”
Hard to argue there. Amelia assumed the world owed her a living. She’d flitted through half a dozen different jobs in the years Eryn had worked her way up at Debby’s Diner.
“Larry and I haven’t confirmed when we need to be out of the house. He’ll do the best he can by us, I know that. He’s a solid Christian man, a good neighbor.”
“Can we rent the house from him?”
“It’s no great shakes, Rynie. He might use it for migrant workers for a while, or just tear it down. There’s been no money to keep it up.” He shook his head and twisted the coffee cup on the table. “I’ve failed everyone, and you’re the only one left to see it.”
Eryn rested her hands on his shoulders, only to feel him trembling with pent-up grief. “Dad. You did the best you could. I should have helped more.”
“No, Eryn. It’s not on the children to bail out their parents. You should look at getting your own place in town in the next few weeks. Start dating. Don’t waste your life looking after your old man.”
Maxwell’s descriptions of western Montana wafted through Eryn’s mind. If a person had to start anew, why not a change of scenery? Dorothy might have thought there was no place like Kansas after she’d been in Oz for a while, but personally, Eryn was pretty sure she’d be happy to live someplace else. Anywhere else.
Dad would never move away. And even though he was pushing her out of the nest, she couldn’t leave him behind in Gilead.
“After your reunion events, I guess we’ll need to face Amelia’s bedroom. I wish I were strong enough to do it alone, but I’m not.”
Eryn let out a long, shuddering breath. Neither of them had been inside since Amelia’s death, unless Dad had snuck in there when Eryn wasn’t looking. Doubtful.
“Okay. We can do that.” Did she want to? Not even a tiny bit. Time hadn’t dulled the dread of going through Amelia’s things. Eryn had burned her own high-school journals after her twin’s passing. No way did she want anyone to read through those if she died an untimely death. Would she read Amelia’s? She’d try not to, out of respect for the dead, but the pull might be too strong.
She squeezed Dad’s shoulders once before resuming her seat. “I’ll find some boxes. We can start Sunday afternoon. Or I could skip the rest of the reunion. It’s not like anyone would notice if I weren’t there.”
Even Maxwell Sullivan. But it was sweet of him to cross the gymnasium to convey his condolences and chat for a while as though Eryn hadn’t been the class wallflower.
“No, no. Enjoy your friends.”
As if they were her friends. They’d been Amelia’s, for the most part. “It’s no problem to skip.”
“What’s on tomorrow’s agenda?”
“Horseback riding at Walker Ridge Ranch in the morning. A round of golf in the afternoon. I can definitely miss that. I haven’t golfed in my life, and it’s not like I ever will again. And then a catered dinner in the school gym.”
“You’ve already paid to attend everything. Enjoy. Because Amelia’s room won’t be nearly as much fun.”
He made it sound like the reunion events were going to be a laugh a minute. In comparison, maybe he wasn’t far wrong.
If Maxwell Sullivan looked her way another time or two, Dad might even be right.
Not that guys like him ever settled down with girls like her.