The Smiles Family - Novelized

NOVEMBER 10, 2013

Nineteen years.

That's all Mike could think about as he stared out the windshield of his old sedan. Nineteen years since that fire. Nineteen years since he'd last seen the Smiles family.

What are they going to think of you after all this time, Mike? he thought bitterly, gripping the steering wheel. You might as well have killed their dad yourself. He let out a deep breath, watching it fog up the car window. There's no way they'll ever let that go...

Snow drifted down outside the diner, but Michael could still feel the bitter cold creeping into his bones. He tugged his turquoise jacket tighter. Despite the fact he was wearing layers of clothes underneath, he still felt the chill creep in. He breathed into his hands, rubbing them together before running them across his face in a futile attempt to warm himself up.

No more waiting. Just go in. Talk to them.

With that thought, Michael finally wrenched open the door of his old, beat-up black sedan. The car had been his father's once, a relic from another life. He stepped out into the cold, his boots crunching in the snow, and slammed the door behind him.

The diner stood in front of him, sleek and retro with its black-and-white exterior, accented by glowing red lights that cast an eerie glow over the snow-covered ground. The neon sign above the entrance flickered: Dan's.

Michael shoved his hands deep into his pockets and hurried toward the door. Pushing it open, a little bell jangled above him, announcing his arrival. Inside, the warm air hit him like a wave, the rich smells of coffee and beef cutting through the chill.

"Hey!" Dan waved from behind the counter, grinning wide.

"Mike!" Matthew called out, raising his hand in greeting.

A sense of relief washed over Michael at the sight of familiar faces. "It's been forever!" he said excitedly, shaking Dan's hand before pulling him into a quick hug.

"It sure has!" Dan replied with a laugh.

Matthew, looking tired but smiling, nodded at Mike. "Long time no see, Mike."

"You look great," Michael said, shaking Matthew's hand next. Matthew had grown into a man since Mike had last seen him.

His hair was slicked back into a short, spiked style, and he had the beginnings of a stubble on his face. He wore a gray windbreaker over a yellow vest and white t-shirt, with a blue scarf hanging loosely around his neck. The tiredness in his eyes, though, was unmistakable.

"You too," Matthew said, his voice low. "You remember Dan, right?"

"I do," Michael said, turning back to the older man.

Dan had aged well, his once-sparse beard now full, and he sported a rugged look with an outdoor cap and a brown leather jacket over a black shirt. His appearance suited him, like he'd spent those years adapting to the world around him rather than the other way around.

"I'm sorry that we hadn't kept in touch," Dan said, walking behind the counter. He grabbed a glass, polishing it with a rag. "But I'm glad you came down."

"No problem," Mike responded, following Dan to the counter and sitting on one of the stools.

Dan poured himself a drink, the sharp smell of alcohol wafting through the air. Michael wrinkled his nose but kept quiet.