Scars Like Ours | Red View Romance #2

🍂 Eight

As everyone migrated to the dining room, Layla introduced herself to Cliff. Dawson was quick to start boasting about her new gym, which according to him, would undoubtedly be the most popular place in Red View once it got up and running. Layla seemed a bit less optimistic, but thankful for the enthusiasm.

Fritters meowed as he weaved between everyone's feet, making a beeline for Jack and trailing along beside him. He paid no attention to the cat--Cliff had a feeling he knew how his furry friend felt, since Jack hadn't given Cliff himself much more than a few glances and a couple short sentences. It stung, but he couldn't say he hadn't been expecting it. While everyone else had spent the years doing everything they could to keep in touch with Cliff, trying to convince him to step away from work for a while to come visit, Jack had given up somewhere around the second year of his absence. It was a choice Cliff couldn't blame him for.

"You need help?" he asked his sister as she broke from the group to head for the kitchen.

Their father came beside her, placing his hands on her shoulders with a smile. "We'll take care of it. You all sit, get comfy."

"But if you want to help with the dishes after, I won't say no," Kenzie added.

Cliff smiled at the thought. They'd spent countless evenings as kids and teenagers tending to that chore. "You got it."

Kenzie and Roman went to the kitchen while everyone else took their seats around the long, oak dining table. It was already set up for ten with place-mats, silverware, and glasses of water. Cliff took a minute to walk the room, taking in what was new to him: new chairs, more modern than the old ones. A panoramic photo of the orchard was framed and hanging next to the door to the kitchen. And the old hutch with Mom's china--which most likely now resided at her house--had been replaced with a slim bar.

Even with the updates, the room hadn't changed much since Cliff was there last, still brightly decorated with touches of country charm. Evening light poured in from the French doors leading out back and the large windows on both sides. Outside, the expanse of the countryside beckoned, reminding him of the long summer days of his childhood, following his parents around while they worked or adventuring around the grounds with his siblings. The orchard seemed smaller once he got older, but it never lost its magic.

"Really?" Jack's deadpan voice brought Cliff's attention back to the dining room, and he turned from the doors to look at his brother. He was sitting at the table, arms raised awkwardly as Fritters turned around in his lap, then splayed out lazily over his thighs. "Cliff, would you please come get this thing off of me?"

"Sorry." He couldn't keep the laughter out of his voice as he walked over, scooping up the cat. "I don't know why, but he likes you."

"And his fur really likes my pants," Jack muttered, fruitlessly trying to brush the hair from his clothes.

"You're lucky--You should feel honored," Annie said. Cliff took the empty chair across from her between Dawson and their mother, settling Fritters onto his own lap. The cat curled up, closing his eyes as Cliff gave him a few pets.

"Yeah," Dawson chimed in, "For once a living creature actually likes you."

Their mother tutted at the joke. "Dawson."

He held his hands up in surrender, but couldn't hide his smirk. "Sorry."

Adam gestured to Cliff with his glass of water. "So how long do we have you for, Cliff?"

"Yeah." Dawson turned to him. "How long is the orchestra letting you take your shackles off for?"

Cliff wanted to laugh at the joke but couldn't, because once he told the truth it was possible it would be the last joke his family ever told him. "Well, uh--" Involuntarily, his gaze looked around the table, taking in the eager faces. Annie's bright eyes watched him, and he nearly knocked his cup of water over as he reached for it. "It's... that's sort of part of everything. All the stuff I need to tell you, I mean."