got the money from the sale of the land. Everyone was happy. Though the girls didn’t want to live in Bygones, they were thrilled their childhood home would still be available for them.
When Brian worked at the factory he often imagined the day he would drive back to the house he had grown up in to find his wife waiting for him, their children running down the driveway toward him just as he and his sisters did when their father came back from working the fields. But Brian was twenty-nine now and no closer to the family he had always dreamed of. And now he had no way of supporting this phantom family.
Even if he took this job in Junction City.
“That would mean selling my place. I can’t afford to pay rent and the payments on here.” The thought of selling a place that had been in his family for four generations stuck in his throat. “Let me think about this for a while,” Brian continued. “I don’t want to make a hasty decision.”
“I know, but I’m still telling this guy about you. Send me your résumé and I’ll give it to him. Maybe something else will come up in his branch in Concordia.”
Brian bit his lips, then nodded. “Okay. I’ll do that. Thanks for thinking of me.”
“Hey, what are friends for? I’d love to work together again. Just like old times.”
“Yeah. Like old times.” Brian doubted anything would be like old times. Life was moving on and things were changing.
Brian said goodbye and dropped the phone in his shirt pocket, his thoughts chasing each other around his mind.
Should he take this job? Was he being foolish hanging on to this place, clinging to the hope that Randall would start up the factory again?
Can you turn your back on your childhood home? Your father’s childhood home?
He had to be realistic. Do what needed to be done. If the part-time job turned into a full-time one, then he couldn’t let sentiment interfere with the reality of making a living.
Please, Lord, help me to let go of my worries. Help me to know what I should do.
“Are you busy?”
His grandfather’s quiet request broke into Brian’s prayers.
“No. Just thinking too much,” Brian said, giving his grandfather a wry smile. He grabbed a plastic lawn chair and set it down in front of the garage. “Here. Have a seat.”
His grandfather eased himself into the chair, his hands resting on his bony knees as he looked out over the yard. “Many good memories here,” he said. “I miss this place.”
“Do you regret moving away?” Brian asked, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, his own thoughts still spinning.
“I moved because I couldn’t face the thought of living in Bygones without your parents around. It was hard enough after your grandmother passed on, but after your parents died, I wanted to leave this place behind me.”
Brian’s mind ticked back to that horrible time after the car accident that had killed his parents. He was still working at the plant when it happened, though his sisters had lived away from Bygones for a number of years by then.
Holly and Louisa had always said that Bygones would be a blip in their rearview mirror once they graduated. Both had held true to that promise after high school.
Brian had never understood his sisters’ desire to live in the city. He needed to stay here. He craved the security he got from his job, his community of friends and his faith. He needed the quiet he could depend on receiving when he stood outside and watched the clouds chase each other across a broad expanse of Kansas sky.
He had always wanted to stay in Bygones and raise his family here. That had always been his main goal in life.
Now the promise of a job lay before him.
Part-time work, maybe, and you’d have to move in with Kirk and Abby and move away from here.
The only other option available to him right now was the bakery job. That he even considered it showed him how far things had fallen in his life and his plans.
“That was a hard time,” Brian agreed, pushing his negative thoughts aside. “I understood why you wanted to leave.”
His grandfather sighed. “It was hard. Especially coming so soon after your grandma died. But I think I made my decision to leave too hastily.”
Brian wasn’t surprised to hear the yearning in his grandfather’s voice. Every time Brian visited his grandfather at the home he lived in, all his grandfather could talk about was Bygones.
“You do love it here,” Brian continued. “Lots of memories.”
His grandfather smiled, leaning forward in the chair as he pointed out the apple trees in the orchard. “I remember planting those with your grandmother. We planted the rootstock, and she budded them. Then she tended them and pruned them. Always were her trees. Used to make the best pies and applesauce from them.”
“She loved gardening, didn’t she?”
“Oh my, yes. All the shrubs and plants around this place were ones she put in.” He carried on, telling Brian stories he knew by heart. With each story Brian heard the love and pining in his voice for this place that held so many memories.
He should move back here.
The thought settled into Brian’s mind with a certainty he couldn’t shake off. But he wouldn’t say anything yet. Not until he figured out exactly how he could support them if he stayed.
He watched his grandfather walk back up to the house, pausing at the orchard and smiling. Then he carried on, reaching out to touch the shrubs lining the driveway, stopping to stoop over a blooming dahlia, looking up as crows danced and darted on the gentle wind.
He belonged here. That much Brian knew.
You could take that job in the bakery. Then he could stay.
Brian cringed at the thought, but at the same time the idea wouldn’t leave him. His options were growing narrower and narrower.
He blew out a sigh, his practical mind fighting with the vision he’d had of his life. Never, in any iteration of his thoughts and dreams, had working at a bakery been part of that.
Even as he sorted things out, he sensed with each passing minute he edged closer to the decision he couldn’t avoid.
Behind all of those thoughts came another chilling one. He would be working with Melissa.
Who would be his boss.
Chapter Three
Brian stood in front of the bakery early Saturday morning, hands planted on his hips as he looked at the gold swirly logo on the window. This was it. His last chance.
As he pushed open the door, his mind flashed back to the last time he was here.
“You could use the money.”
Melissa’s
