would understand that half of Solitaire Farm had, at one time, belonged to Joel, and that as a young, stupid kid, he’d wanted his share right then, in cash.
“I didn’t steal any money. I took what was mine.”
Ryan made a psst sound as Billy opened the driver’s side door and slid behind the wheel. Wow. Joel was curious to know what Beth’s mother had wanted to say, and why—as the school secretary—she had a right to say anything. Instead, he looked at the little men in the backseat and shelved his questions. Billy, looking a little annoyed, took advantage of the lull.
“What did the doctor say?”
“The doctor said the accident did not make things worse and that I feel better than I deserve after hitting that fence last night. He recommended a good physical therapist.”
“You hit that fence really good.” Ryan suddenly forgot his annoyance and sounded impressed. “Trey says it will cost a pretty penny.”
“Trey?”
“Max McClanahan III,” Billy explained.
The McCreedys’ nearest neighbors were the McClanahans. Joel had spent his childhood chasing after Maxwell McClanahan II, who must be married and a dad now, with a son also named Max. One who was about Ryan’s age. Joel suddenly felt a little humbled by all he didn’t know.
“Joel never does anything halfway,” Billy said before turning to face Joel. “I’m looking forward,” he said glumly, “to hearing what’s really wrong with you and what made you come back now.”
“You have to go to a therapist because you hit a fence?” Ryan questioned. “I hit fences all the time. You do walk funny. Is that because you hit the fence?”
“Joel doesn’t walk funny,” Billy said.
“Just slow and careful,” Joel agreed.
“Mommy couldn’t walk at all,” Matt finally added to the conversation, “right before she died.”
“Okay,” Billy said quickly, “who wants ice cream?”
To Joel’s way of thinking, it was the perfect time to change the topic of conversation. Matt’s comment was a bit too deep for an errant uncle to elaborate on. Looked like it was way too deep for a grandfather to deal with, too.
“Dad’s not with us,” Matt pointed out.
Ryan wasn’t about to let that interfere with the possibility of getting ice cream. “We can take him something.”
“It will melt.”
Billy, who’d mastered the art of keeping kids happy during his forty-year stint as the principal, said, “He’ll be eating plenty of ice cream tomorrow during Caleb’s party.”
“I’m three,” Caleb chattered. “’Morrow.”
Matt sat back, satisfied that his father wasn’t being left out.
Joel had to admire him. He was the gatekeeper of the brothers. Ryan, it looked like, was the mouth. Caleb was the comic relief.
Jared didn’t know how lucky he was.
Watching the boys sit forward on their hands, anticipating an ice cream stop, triggered some memories. Of course, back then, Jared had been the gatekeeper. Joel had been the comic relief. The one who had jumped over the gate, landed on his head and got all the attention.
They shared mouth duty.
Or tried to share.
Sometimes it had felt like the farm—make that the town of Roanoke—wasn’t big enough for two McCreedy boys.
Since his release from the hospital Joel had caught glimpses of his hometown and the people who made it special. In many ways, it was just another small town with its inhabitants going about their day, doing their jobs, taking care of their families and making memories. Since leaving eight years ago, Joel had been in towns a bit smaller and cities a lot bigger. He’d never stayed long enough to know who owned the auto repair shop, or even who was the fastest grocery store cashier, or which little old lady at church gave the best hugs, or what flavor ice cream was ordered the most at the ice cream parlor.
All three boys wanted chocolate. Billy chose vanilla.
Joel joined the boys and had chocolate, minus the cone. They ate inside the Ice Cream Shack because, according to Matt, “We can’t drip in the car. Grandpa likes to keep his van clean.”
“Caleb drips,” Ryan agreed.
“I yike ice cream.” Caleb nodded vigorously and lived up to Ryan’s accusation. In just a matter of seconds, his ice cream cone was gone, but there was enough ice cream smeared on his face and on the floor to make another one. Ryan had just a bit on the side of his cheek. Joel took his last spoonful and looked over at Billy and Matt. Billy was making headway, but Matt was so careful not to drip or make any kind of mess that he almost had a full cone.
Then Matt stopped licking altogether. His eyes were glued on the front window and toward the parking lot.
Ryan gloated. “It’s your teacher, and you have ice cream on your nose.”
He didn’t, but Matt believed him and rubbed his sleeve across his clean face.
Joel jumped up and held open the door. It gave him an even better view of his rescuer and Matt’s teacher. Her blond hair bordered on white. It fluffed out and just hit the top of her shoulders. A dark blue skirt was topped by a white-and-dark-blue-striped blouse. Colorful tennis shoes finished the outfit.
He’d like to chase those tennis shoes. “Anything else change?” he asked.
She raised one eyebrow. “What?”
“Besides you growing up while I was away.”
She hesitated. “I’m not as easy to get along with now.”
“I don’t believe it for a minute,” Joel said, and checked out her hand, her left hand. No ring. He should have checked earlier.
“Let me buy you an ice cream.” It wasn’t exactly the dinner he’d suggested earlier, but she’d already turned that down. This could be a start.
Was it his imagination, or did the look she shot Billy appear sympathetic?
“Hi, Beth,” Billy greeted, frowning in Joel’s direction. “Looks like our paths are crossing quite a bit these last twenty-four hours.”
“Susan called. She’s wanting ice cream.” Beth looked at Joel, her expression wary. “I’m in a hurry, so no thanks.” Her chin went up, for no reason since he’d done nothing to insult her, and she headed to the counter. She ordered a full gallon of bubblegum.
Bubblegum? This might be her only flaw.
She followed that by ordering a chocolate chip cone. Joel stepped forward to pay, but she shook her head. The young man behind the cash register looked bored. Definitely not the kind of kid who would notice a guy trying to impress a girl
