Homecoming

02

"So, what are your plans?" He asked before swinging the axe down. I stepped back to avoid split log from landing on my foot.

"Not sure dad. I think I'd like to go back to school and get a degree." I picked them up and placed them in the wagon.

He put the axe down and dabbed the towel draped around his shoulder on his forehead. "Oh yeah? I think that's a fine idea."

"Guys! Lunch is ready!" Mom stood on the porch and waved us over.

"Let's go, peanut."

"Dad! I'm 24 years old! I think it's time to retire that nickname."

He ruffled my hair before jogging towards the house with Camus at his heels. "You'll always be my little peanut!" he yelled back.

The past week I've spent back at my parent's house had so far succeeded in driving me to frustration. Their coddling had always been a welcomed attention, but I've never realized how much its absence in the last three years had been a blessing. And while the elephant in the room had been left to its own devices, I often caught mom stealing glances at me when she thought I wasn't aware. There were also times when everyone was walking on eggshells just to avoid the mounting tension.

They still haven't questioned me about the events that led me back home, and I'm not quite ready to divulge details. I knew they both have some notion because dad was quite furious when faced with my black eye. He even threatened to fly over there to give Tony a dose of his own medicine. It took the joint effort from mom and me to persuade him to calm down. He was finally placated when I told him it wasn't necessary since I gave what I received, which was true to an extent.

"What do you want to drink?" Mom asked me as soon as I stepped in the kitchen.

"Just water, mom. Thanks."

Dad slathered a thick layer of mayo on his turkey sandwich, and was about to put more when mom slapped him on the shoulder. "You have to watch your cholesterol," she said placing a water bottle in front of my plate.

He grunted, but complied. "Verne is thinking about going back to school." He bit into his sandwich and nodded in my direction.

"Oh yeah? That's great honey. Do you know what you want to study?"

"Not really." I shrugged. "Seems like a good idea to get a degree if I want to get a decent job. Can't rely on you guys forever."

"You know we will always help you out no matter what." Mom then turned her attention to dad, "Going golfing today?"

"Yes, the guys and I are playing the back nine today, then we're going to Cavanaugh's after."

Mom rolled her eyes at him. "Don't come home drunk. And Verne, have any plans today?"

"Not really, just thinking of going uptown to check out if anyone was hiring."

"Come with me then. I'm going to run some errands after lunch."

"Stop by Addie's and pick up some jam." Dad narrowed his eyes at me, and I gave him the widest grin I could muster.

Living in a small town meant everybody knew everybody, which also meant everyone's business was the whole damn town's business. It was a good thing, and a bad thing when privacy was what one needed. The people who didn't say good riddance to this town after graduating married their high school sweethearts, and their parents before probably did the same. It was a never-ending cycle of incestuous population pool that some fresh rainwater would do this town some good. The staleness of this town was one of the reasons why I left when opportunity provided me a way out through what I thought was my prince charming. Well, all that showed me was how awful I was at judging characters.

I'd already heard several ludicrous reasons for my homecoming since we've stepped foot uptown. I was pretty positive that reason number four was my most favorite, where I was apparently running from the law for some undisclosed illegal activity. The idea had me doubling over in laughter because the lazy bastard that I was would've given up before I even got started. As if running back home would've saved me from my inevitable capture anyways.

But this little gem now topped reason number four. Rosie Cavanaugh was amidst asking in a hushed voice how many days I had left to live in the middle of the bread aisle. It amused me to think someone had compared me to a dying dog who came crawling back home to die in peace. She was side-eyeing my healing black eye which probably further fueled the idea that I had some outlandish illness. If she thought that was bad, she should see my torso. The patches of red, purple, yellow, and green could almost be called pretty in an avant-garde sort of way or someone's horrible attempt in a quilt blanket. It was hard not to stifle my laughter, and mom most likely added another patch on that quilt when she elbowed me for giving in. I couldn't fault her though since she hadn't seen the masterpiece.

"So it's not true? You're not dying?"

"No, he's not." Mom answered in my place because I was too busy nursing the jab she gave my ribs. "He was just thinking of going back to school and establishing himself. You know, get a part-time job and—"

"You looking for a job, Verne? Our hostess just quit, you know. She got herself pregnant, and she says the guy wants to get married. Want to give it a shot?"

"Really? I'd love to give it a shot." I was grinning at the possible prospect of getting a job this soon and this easy. It was far from being a glamorous job, but it would give me the flexibility I need.

"Yeah? Come around the place around ten tomorrow, and we'll get you setup." She gave mom another hug and went on her way. Mom gave me a thumbs up before continuing down the aisle, and I followed suit.

Our last stop was to pick up some more jam for dad at Addie's Fruit Farm. The black eye stole the spotlight that night, and dad barely made a peep about the peach jam other than the little glare I got today.

"Old coot Addie got the parking lot paved?" I sat up a little straighter as we pulled into the parking lot.

"Oh, yeah. About two years ago maybe? Danford gave him a good deal, so he couldn't refuse. Besides, he was getting a lot of complaints about it." She slung her purse on her shoulder, and checked her face on the rear view mirror. "You coming in?"

"Nah. No, I'll just wait in the car."

"You okay?" She gingerly touched my black eye.

I batted her hand away. "I'm fine, mom."

She shrugged. "I'll be quick. You want the keys?"

I might have nodded yes because the next thing I remember were the keys on the palm of my hand, and when I looked up she was entering the store.

Cowardice had never been a trait I associated myself with, but hearing that name always sent jolts of jitters within me. Not even in front of a drugged-up Tony did I feel like this. It was silly of me to assume the Danfords would just simply cease to exist when I returned home. Of course I prayed they would, but the Danfords had a hand in every business in this town, and they owned a lot of property.

"As long as I don't run into a specific Danford then I'm fine." I murmured and leaned my forehead against the window, closing my hand around the keys.