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TWENTY-THREE

KENJI

IN VINO VERITAS

Day 475

It’s been a few days since Nora and Eric passed away, and the community feels like it’s standing still, suspended in grief. The usual rhythm of life has faltered. Work has slowed to a crawl, though there are still tasks that can’t be ignored—chores that ensure our survival out here. I’ve thrown myself into staying busy, mostly keeping Jay company and doing my best to hold Adrian together. He wears a brave face, but anyone paying attention can see that Nora’s death has crushed him.

Adrian and Nora had clicked instantly. From the very first day, they shared a bond, and he spent so much of his time with her. Yesterday, worry gnawed at me as I headed to check on him, unsure how he was holding up. But as I approached the house, I saw him through the window, sitting with Farron in his lap. Her arms were wrapped around him as she held him close, and I felt my chest loosen just a bit, knowing they were taking care of each other.

Adrian and Farron aren’t the only ones hurting, though. Henry has been walking a tightrope of silent pain. I’ve tried to check on him a few times, but he busies himself constantly, avoiding meaningful conversations.

Today has been a welcome distraction. I’ve tended to the cows and goats, cleaned out the Abel and Hill barns, and stayed on the move to keep my own thoughts at bay. Every task seems to be a bigger challenge when I’m doing it with only one arm. I shouldn’t be doing anything on my own right now, not with Farron still insisting on doing everything in pairs, but some things just can’t be helped. There’s too much going on, too much grief holding the community hostage for people to remember they can’t be on their own.

Winter in Idaho is no joke—cold that bites through layers and settles into your bones. I thought I knew winter growing up in Oregon, but this is something else entirely. As the afternoon drags on, I head back to the house for coffee, my fingers numb and my breath clouding in the frigid air.

I round the back of the house, boots crunching on the icy ground, and step onto the porch. Just as I reach for the door, a loud crash from inside startles me, followed by a string of curses. I rush, yanking the door open to find Henry sprawled on the floor, shards of glass glittering around him.

“Henry! What happened?” I ask, sprinting into the kitchen.

He waves me off as I crouch down to help him, his movements clumsy. “I don’t need your help,” he mutters, slurring the words. The unmistakable smell of whiskey hangs on his breath.

“Jesus, Henry… Are you drunk?” I ask, incredulous. In all my time here, I’ve never seen the man like this—he’s always been composed, steady. And if he is drunk, there’s no way I’m leaving him to his own devices tonight.

He glares at me, his bloodshot eyes narrowing. “I’m not drunk,” he declares with an exaggerated seriousness. “I’m Henry.”

Well, shit.

I carefully help him into a chair, the movement awkward since I can only use one arm, checking him over for cuts from the glass. He swats at me, resisting. “Fine. Suit yourself,” I mutter, grabbing a broom to clean up the mess to ensure no one steps on it later on, human or rat dog.

Once the floor is safe, I pour a glass of water and set it in front of Henry. “Drink this,” I tell him firmly.

“I don’t want water,” he sputters, his fist pounding against the table. “I want whiskey.” I open my mouth to retort, but he beats me to it. “If you take it away from me now, I’ll just wait until you’re gone.”

I sigh, contemplating my options. “I will not take anything away from you, including your whiskey. But you’ll drink this glass of water first.” He narrows his eyes but complies, draining half the glass too quickly and sputtering. I sigh, shaking my head as I grab two glasses before going back for the whiskey bottle, settling at the table across from him.

I pour us each a finger of whiskey and push his glass toward him, holding it just out of reach. “Do not chug this like it’s water, Henry. I’m not about to stop you from drinking in your own damn house, but I’m also not letting you drink yourself to death. It’d destroy Farron.”

His eyes widen slightly, shame flickering across his face. I release the glass and he pulls it towards himself, but doesn’t bring it up to his lips right away. Instead, he purses his lips and looks away from me, focusing on some random point in the distance. I sigh and tilt my head back, my memories from the day Farron told Henry about Nora coming to the forefront of my mind.

Farron kneels on the floor, her head buried in Nora’s chest as violent sobs wrack her body. Her fists clutch her Ma’s sweater in a desperate, white-knuckled grip, as if sheer force alone could bring her back. I glance around the room, taking it all in. Theo is at her side, silent tears streaking his face as he rubs soothing circles on Farron’s back. Adrian is long gone, having walked out of the cottage, blank-faced, a while ago. Todd and Jay have left, going to the Alden farm to find Daisy and tell her about Eric.

Farron lifts her head, meeting my gaze. Her voice is barely a whisper. “Pa.”

Her lips tremble as she bites down, trying to stifle another sob.

“Baby, let it out,” I say gently.

It’s all the permission she needs. She turns and collapses into Theo’s chest, her cries breaking through the heavy silence. The minutes drag, stretching into something immeasurable, but eventually, Farron sits up. I step forward and pull her to her feet, the three of us leaving to find Henry.

We’re nearing the front steps when the door bursts open. Henry comes running, his expression wild and frantic. He must have heard. He skids to a halt at the top of the stairs, staring at Farron like he’s willing her to say it isn’t true. His eyes glisten with unshed tears, his head shaking in silent denial.

Farron reaches for him, but before she can pull him into a hug, his hands clamp down on her forearms. His wide, searching eyes dart across her face, desperate for answers she can’t give. “Tell me it’s not true, Fare,” he pleads, his voice breaking. “Tell me!”

Farron’s head hangs between them as a choked sob escapes her. Henry’s grip tightens, not harsh but trembling, teetering on the edge of control. “No. No, no, no,” he says, his voice rising with each word, the tears spilling over. “Oh God, no. Not my baby. Not my sweetheart.”

His knees buckle, and Farron sinks down with him, holding onto each other like they’re the only thing keeping the other from shattering completely. Henry’s cries are raw, unrelenting, a mantra of grief between gasping breaths. I can’t take it. The heartbreak in front of me is too much. My chest tightens, and my gaze shifts to Henry. In his despair, I can almost see myself—my future if anything were to happen to Farron. The thought hits me like a blow.

The anger builds, coiling like a snake, ready to strike. Fury and helplessness churn together until it feels like I’m drowning, just standing here watching two incredible people fall apart in their grief. Theo’s hand finds my arm, grounding me for a moment. He squeezes lightly, meeting my gaze. “Go, I’ve got this.”

It’s all I need to hear. Theo always knows what people need, and right now, he knows I need to get away. To breathe. To deal. I take one last look at the two people who’ve found their way into my heart—my family—crumbling under the weight of this loss. And I feel like I’ve failed them.

The cold air bites at my face as I jog to the barn, the snow crunching under my boots. Once I round the corner, I start pacing, inhaling the freezing air until it burns my lungs. Every breath fans the flame inside me. The anger rises, white-hot and unstoppable. Anger at this world. At the loss Farron has to endure again. At the fact that Mr. Abel is gone. At my mother’s absence. At Adrian’s burdened shoulders.

It’s all too much. My fingers knot in my hair, pulling until my scalp stings. I let out a growl of frustration and release my grip. My fist slams into the side of the barn with enough force to send a jolt of pain up my arm. As if I need to put the other one out of commission, too.

But it’s not enough to quiet the storm. Not yet.

The sound of my fist slamming into the wall brings me back to the present, Henry’s been…well a zombie since Nora’s death. He either works by himself and lets out grunts of annoyance if anyone besides Farron helps him. Or he’s sitting on that goddamn porch chair in the freezing cold.

The clock ticks.

One minute passes by, then ten, then more. The whole time, the silence continues to stretch between us. Finally, I take a breath and decide to chance it.

“So, you wanna tell me what’s going on in your head?” His eyes snap over to mine, and for just a moment I can see anger in his eyes, but it dissipates quickly. “You and Farron are barely talking, both of you bottling things up to not burden the other.”

“Farron doesn’t need my pain, boy,” he snaps at me. “She’s had enough to last a lifetime, and she’s barely started living.”

I hum in response, completely in agreement with what he’s saying. And yet… “That doesn’t mean you just never talk, Henry. If you feel like your pain is a burden, then please, by all means—burden me. I’m here.”

Henry shakily lifts his glass to his lips, the content swishing back and forth as he takes a sip, missing his mouth slightly and falls down onto his shirt. He doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe he doesn’t care. He puts the glass down and rests his head against his palm. We sit there for another moment in the quiet until I hear his silent cries.

“Henry,” I start to say, slowly reaching for his shoulder so I don’t spook him.

He tries to shake me off, but I hold on tight. Between broken cries, “I can’t…she needs me…not enough.” My brows furrow, confusion at his words.

“Henry, what do you mean you’re not enough?”

“Farron.” He says strongly, looking into my eyes. The past few days have somehow managed to age him by ten years and that scares me. I can see every emotion and thought on his face, the hurt, sadness, love…emptiness.

“She needs me and I don’t know how to be her rock because my rock is gone. She was the glue that held us all together and now they're all gone and the one good thing I had left, I’m failing. She needs me and I don’t know how to be there for her.”

“It’s not just Farron who lost someone important.” I say, taking a pause before continuing. “You both did and you lost the love of your life. I saw the way you were with Nora, and that’s not something everyone is lucky enough to find.” I say, swallowing the lump forming in my throat. “You don’t have to be there for her, the same way she doesn’t have to be there for you. Just be . Just grieve and process. Be sad and angry. You two have come back from tragedy over and over again and you will this time, too.”

He shakes his head, eyes half closed. “No, I don’t think I will. I already lost my baby girl and now my beautiful wife. I have no idea where Holden is.”

“But you have Farron,” I remind him, and he winces as he nods. Finally, he releases a big sigh. “I always hoped I would go before her,” he admits, his voice low. “What kind of husband can imagine losing the love of their life and having to carry on without her?”

I don’t respond, only nod to encourage him to keep going.

“You know, Nora never wanted the farm life.”

“No?” I ask, taking another sip of my whiskey.

“I met her in Boise Drive-In back in the summer of 1971. It was a hot day, scorching, and even after the sun had set the heat refused to leave us. I remember being frustrated at how my shirt was sticking to my skin and how uncomfortable I felt. I grew up here on the farm, and I was already a bit unsettled being down in Boise. But it was a big deal for my folks to do something special as a family unit, so there we were.” He stops, lost in his memory, but eventually continues on.

“I went to the concessions to grab some popcorn, and who should be in front of me in line if not my Nora. She was in this purple dress, and after she bought her own popcorn she turned around and ran straight into me. The second those big eyes looked up at me, I knew. I knew that was the only woman for me…” Henry trails off, a soft sigh leaving him as he thinks back to that night.

“For weeks, I would go back down to Boise looking for her, trying to convince her to go on a date with me. She refused, saying she had big dreams of traveling, and wasn’t willing to settle down with a farmer. Said she wasn’t built to be on a farm. But eventually, I got her to agree to one date with me,” he tells me, giving me a lopsided grin.

“One date is all it takes sometimes,” I respond with a chuckle.

He laughs, nodding his head. “One date was all it took. I think I wore her down with all the bundles of lavender I kept bringing her—they reminded me of that purple dress I first saw her in. Anyway, I convinced her to go on another date with me, and then another, and then another. Before either of us knew it, we had fallen completely for the other. When I finally asked her to marry me, she said she would on one condition. That I promise to take her to see the world as we grew old together.”

“And did you?”

“Of course I did,” he scoffs into his glass, swallowing the last of his whiskey. I pour him another finger. “When you love a woman, you’d do anything to make her happy. You keep that in mind,” he says, pointing at me. When I nod, he continues. “We started small, traveling across the United States. Money was tight. But we did what we could, making sure we took at least one trip every year. When Addie was born, we’d take her with us.”

“It sounds like you two had a very long and happy marriage,” I tell him.

“Damn right we did,” he responds, and I watch as tears well up in his eyes. “Which is why I can’t believe my Nora is gone. My Nora, my Addie, my grandson… They’re all gone,” he sobs out, his head falling to the table.

“But you have Farron. And you know you have Jay and Todd, too. And now you have Theo, Adrian, and me.” I get up and move closer to him, wrapping my good arm around his shoulders. He wraps his arms around me as he cries into my chest.

As I hold this broken man in my arms I can’t help my thoughts swirling back to Farron. Thinking this will be me in fifty years, if she goes out before me. And for some reason that brings me peace, because I plan on spending the rest of my life cherishing her. Letting her know that she’s the center of my universe, my days start and end with her. If I could even have a fraction of the love that Henry and Nora shared, well then I would consider myself the luckiest man in the fallen world.