Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
M r. Ralston? It seems our children have rekindled their childhood friendship the past few days. Would you and Eryn like to come for lunch?”
Maxwell stifled a groan. Why had he ever mentioned Eryn’s name more than once in recounting the reunion activities to his mother? She was jumping to conclusions in her desperation to lure Maxwell into staying in Kansas… and she didn’t even know he’d briefly nursed the idea until Eryn shot him down last night.
Of course, Eryn was right to have done so, but he still couldn’t be impolite to her father. He reached to shake Keith Ralston’s hand. “I’m pleased to meet you again, sir. I fondly remember the events out at your farm when we were kids.”
The man’s face brightened. “Those were the days.”
Oh, man. Maxwell had put his foot in it again. The sleigh rides had ended abruptly when Mrs. Ralston had passed away. Best to keep going. “I understand you’ve also lost your other daughter recently. Please accept my mother’s and my condolences.”
Mom shot him a sideways glance, but politeness won. It always would. “Yes, Mr. Ralston. I was saddened to hear of it.”
Keith bowed his head. “I appreciate that, and I know you’ve seen your share of grief with your son’s passing. Eryn tells me young Jamie has been adopted by his uncle and aunt?”
Eryn’s panicked expression toward her father would almost be humorous if the conversation were less painful. Still, she’d talked to her dad about their conversations. Was that good or bad?
It doesn’t matter. She doesn’t want a long-distance friendship.
Not that he’d been angling for merely friendship, but they’d only just reconnected. It was far too early to say he wanted to see if they could be more.
Mom’s lips pursed. “Yes, Tate and Stephanie live in Montana with Jamie and their baby boy, Simon.”
“Long ways away, Montana.”
“Very.” Mom skewered Maxwell with a look.
What, as though he were going to stay in Gilead because she didn’t want to uproot and move to Jewel Lake? Not happening.
“But that’s neither here nor there,” Mom segued smoothly. “What do you say to lunch? Dominica — my cook — has prepared a repast too much for just Maxwell and me.”
At Mom’s request, no doubt. It’s not like Dominica acted on her own.
Eryn closed her eyes briefly before turning to Mom with a wan smile. “Thank you, Mrs. Sullivan. That’s lovely of you, but Dad and I have a full day planned. Maybe some other time.”
She meant when Maxwell wasn’t home. That kinda hurt.
Keith glanced between them, obviously confused. “Well, we need to eat, one way or the other, so what could it hurt? I say yes, we should go.”
“Excellent.” Mom nearly purred. “We’re at 110 Killion Place. You can follow us home or come on your own. And Eryn?”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“That’s Maribel to you, not Mrs. Sullivan. Maxwell’s father and I have been divorced for many years, and the title of missus no longer suits.”
“Yes’m. I mean, Maribel. Thank you.” Eryn shot a glance at Maxwell.
He had nothing for her. Mom had been a stickler in that regard since she’d kicked workaholic Dad out 15 years back. Dad had cheerfully moved to Chicago, where he’d practically lived, anyway. With no distractions of wife and kids, he’d poured all his energy into Sullivan Enterprises as Grandfather’s right-hand man. When each of his boys graduated from high school, he’d welcomed them into the family business as adults.
Win, win for Dad. Not so much for Mom.
“See you in a few minutes.” Mom nodded to Keith and Eryn as she tucked her hand in the crook of Maxwell’s elbow. She acknowledged a few other parishioners with a smile and shook hands with the pastor as they exited the building.
Maxwell opened the car door for his mother then leaned in after her. “What are you trying to prove with that invitation?”
“You seem to need a little help.”
“I do not need help. You may have forgotten I live at Sweet River Ranch, and?—”
“Temporarily.” She waved a hand. “Walter will run out of projects one of these days, and?—”
“And then, like I already told you, I’ll make my home in Jewel Lake and hang out my shingle as a contractor. I’ll build houses and take on renovations.”
“Which you could do right here in Gilead.”
“Mom, I’m not moving back.”
“Not even for the right girl?”
He shook his head as he held her gaze. “This is not my home anymore.”
“But it could be again.”
Wow, she was stubborn. Maxwell might have gotten his workaholic tendencies from his father, but his doggedness? All from Mom. No wonder he’d left town the day after graduation. He and his mother had butted heads over nearly everything the last couple of years when he was the only remaining kid in the nest.
“I don’t know how to make this any more plain, but your plan isn’t going to work. I’m not rude enough to go over to Keith Ralston and tell him not to come for lunch, but you need to stop trying to manipulate me. Got it?”
Mom pursed her lips and shot daggers with her eyes. “Be careful how you talk to your mother.”
He closed the car door and rounded the vehicle. Across the parking lot, Keith and Erin clambered into an older gray truck. Maxwell lifted his hand in acknowledgment, but he was distracted. How was he going to get through to his mother?
Maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he’d have to put up with her machinations for two more days before she drove him to the Wichita airport. Eventually, she’d forget her idea when nothing happened between him and Eryn.
Besides, Mom wasn’t thinking straight. At the moment, she was desperate for Maxwell to meet someone. Anyone. But long term she was also too snooty to think a Ralston was good enough for a Sullivan.
He slid into the driver’s seat of her electric car, pressed the starter button, and shifted into gear. There wasn’t anything more to say, so he didn’t bother trying. Best just to let her figure it out for herself.
“Why did you take Maxwell’s business card?” Eryn had barely been able to hold the question until they were in the truck on the way back to the farm. “You sold the farm, so you don’t need any renovations done.” And the thought was still bitter.
“Why not? He seems a nice young man, and he likes you.” Dad winked. “You could do worse.”
She glared at him. “Don’t fall in with his mother. It doesn’t become you.” And why did Maribel seem to be so eager to get to know Eryn? Didn’t the woman realize how far beneath the Sullivans the Ralstons were?
“Aw, Rynie. I want you to be happy. And rich would be okay, too.”
“Dad!”
“Just stating the facts in privacy here.”
“Don’t get any ideas.”
“Did you not notice how that boy kept looking at you?”
Eryn’s skin itched. “He didn’t. This is all something you’ve conjured up in your head.”
“He hung out with you during every event this weekend. He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t like you. I don’t know why I need to remind you men know how to avoid women they can’t stand. They don’t seek them out.”
Eryn stared out the truck window. “He was just being nice. Everyone else had friends there.”
“And why don’t you?” Dad’s voice gentled. “Have friends, I mean. You’re so focused on your job that you don’t get out much. I hadn’t realized you didn’t get out at all .”
Tears pricked Eryn’s eyes. “They were all Amelia’s friends, not mine. She was the popular one.”
“She was like a butterfly, that’s true. But she would have been happy to include you.”
Eryn pivoted to look at her father. “Who wants to be a pity project? Not me. And besides, she didn’t want—” Oh, no. She’d never meant to air her problems with Amelia to him. Let him remember his other daughter — his favorite one — the way he’d seen her.
Dad’s brow furrowed as he studied her.
“The road, Dad.”
“I’m paying attention.”
Did he mean to the road… or to her? Eryn didn’t even want to know. “Look, don’t worry about it, okay? It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“It seems it matters to you.”
“Nope. I’m all good. That was a rare moment.” Liar, liar, pants on fire.
“Are you sure you’re up for clearing out her bedroom this afternoon? Because we can do it another time.”
Eryn took a sharp breath and then exhaled. “Today is good. I brought home boxes from behind the grocery store last night. Because you’re in an all-fired hurry to get rid of our home.”
“Rynie, that’s not how it is.”
“It’s how it seems. I’ll manage. I just don’t like change.”
“Sometimes change is needed to shake things up a bit.”
She gritted her teeth. Dad needed things shook up? Fine. He didn’t need to drag her along with him.
They’d finally arrived at the farmhouse. Eryn jumped out, popped the trunk on her car, and grabbed an armload of collapsed boxes. “I’m heading in there right now.”
“I thought we might have a cup of tea first.”
“You had tea at the Sullivans’. Don’t wimp out on me, Dad. You started this, and you’re coming in with me from the first minute.”
He took a shuddering breath. “Okay, okay. But I don’t even know where to start.”
“How about you start by stripping the linens and throwing everything in the wash? Then you can dismantle the frame. It will give us room to stack boxes.”
“What will we do with the bed?”
“The college thrift store can pick it up when we’re ready.” Like her dad, Eryn had been putting off this job, but now that they’d agreed, she was ready to purge the remains of Amelia’s life. Maybe that would help with the ugly memories. Maybe a fresh start in a home her sister had never lived in would help, too.
She could only hope so as she stood in the doorway. The room was a mess — a mess with a solid layer of dust over everything.
Eryn crossed the space, opened the window, and looked back at her dad. Tears had filled his eyes, and his chin was quivering. She strengthened her resolve. “I’ll go through her clothes.”
“If you see anything you’d like, keep it. You were about the same size.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” No, she wouldn’t. A purge was a purge.
Eryn did her best to ignore her father as he cleared the bed and banged it apart with a hammer. She stood at the closet and folded item after item into boxes for the thrift shop, except for the ones stuffed in the back that showed too much wear. Those went into a trash bag. She could use some of the empty hangers, but the rest got boxed.
There, that had been therapeutic. Next came the litter of shoes mounded on the closet floor. There were a few cute pairs that Eryn might’ve been tempted to snag if Amelia’s feet hadn’t been a size smaller.
Now on to the dresser. Most of the contents were trash. No one wanted used underwear. In the bottom drawer, beneath Amelia’s summer nighties, lay a pile of journals. Eryn glanced up to see Dad disappear through the doorway lugging the headboard.
She’d just tuck those books in her own room and burn them later. Would that be before or after she’d read some of them?
Dad was downstairs.
She’d take a quick peek before getting back to sorting. The covers had the years neatly penned in Amelia’s round handwriting. The last one was the year she’d died. Eryn wasn’t sure if she wanted to know what Amelia thought of life that recently. More than a dozen years’ worth of memories. Maybe she could handle reading about junior high.
The first journal was from seventh grade, the year before Mom died. Eryn bent the paper cover and let the pages flick by in a buzz. She shouldn’t read these private thoughts. But maybe she’d understand Amelia a bit better if she did. Maybe there’d be some sort of closure if an entry mentioned a desire to be closer to her twin.
It was a long shot, but it wasn’t completely impossible.
January 1, 2008
We had our annual sleigh ride this afternoon for kids from school. There was barely enough snow, but it was still fun. Then Mom made hot chocolate and cookies. Yum. But what’s really yummy is Max. Sigh. He’s so cute with his dark curly hair!!! [three heart emojis] I think maybe he likes me!!! [three heart emojis]
Eryn slapped the book closed. She did not want to read about her sister’s adolescent crush on Maxwell Sullivan.
On the other hand, maybe she’d get some insight on what made the man tick. Not that any of it mattered. Amelia was dead, and Maxwell was leaving for Montana again on Wednesday.
It couldn’t possibly hurt to indulge in a little nostalgia, even if it was through her sister’s eyes. Could it?
“Eryn?”
“Coming, Dad. I just took a little break, but I’m ready to get back at it.”