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We made it just a couple feet before someone else stopped us to say hello. Four or five greetings later, we reached our booth at the back of the restaurant. Henrietta tucked into Tyler’s arm, saying, “Have I mentioned I love this town? It’s like everyone here is family.”

Tyler nodded in agreement. “There’s no place like Cottonwood Falls.”

They were right. I just wish I didn’t have this ache in the pit of my gut reminding me that living here with a family of my own had once been my dream too.

A waitress named Agatha, who’d been working here since before I was in high school, came and took our orders. She even remembered that I liked vanilla coke. As she walked away, I asked, “How does she remember that?”

Liv smiled. “You’re hard to forget.”

“Please,” I said, looking at the menu. I could order everything listed for the price of one six-ounce steak at the place we’d been last week. I decided on a burger and fries and then waited with my siblings for our food to come out.

For the millionth time, I wished they lived closer so we could do this more often.

At work, I had to be strong, focused, a leader to hundreds of people in the organization.

Here? With them? I could just be myself.

That was until I saw the couple walking into the restaurant.

My parents.

I hadn’t seen them since Tyler’s wedding a year prior, but it was just as much of a punch to the gut now as it had been then. Dad didn’t much like eating out, preferring to cook at home. They’d certainly never come midday on a Saturday, when the restaurant was sure to be crowded. I instantly looked to Liv, knowing she had to be behind this.

Tyler, Rhett, and Hen made a point to look anywhere else, but Liv tilted her head, pleading with her eyes. “Gage, at least try. Please. It’s been long enough.”

I shook my head, my fists clenching with anger. “That’s my decision. Not yours.” I’d woken up early on a Saturday, missed a day of work to hang out with my siblings, all to be ambushed by my parents. I got up from the table and walked down the narrow restaurant, aisle between the bar and the booths wishing there was more than one entrance.

Just feet from my parents, my mom said, “Gage, you’re looking good today.”

“Thank you,” I said curtly, then I looked to Dad.

I wished we didn’t look so much alike, but there we were, mirror images.

Both six feet, three inches tall. Both with dark blond hair, except where Dad’s was mostly gray. We both had strong jaws. Blue eyes. He had a mustache where I was clean-shaven, but if I grew facial hair, we would look that much more alike.

And we were both stubborn as hell.

Both angry.

Hurt. Even after all these years.

“Anything to say, Dad?” I could barely utter the last word.

He looked down at the floor. Weak. Anyone knew in a negotiation, eye contact was an advantage.

Then he glanced back up at me, shook his head slightly.

It was just as forceful, just as painful, as a punch to the face.

“That’s what I thought,” I said, and then I left the restaurant, my parents, and Cottonwood Falls behind.

7

Farrah

I was not ready to go into work. Not looking like this.

And that number ringing on my phone just as I was about to head into the building? That only made things worse.