Page 7 of Sizzle
But for me, my nonno was the closest person I’d ever had. He understood me in a way most of my family doesn’t, even if they love me dearly. We just got each other’s glib nature, the ease of tough work with no talking, the long days pushing our limbs to the brink, and then finishing off with a cold beer. He was simple and yet complicated, a man who had surefire thoughts and opinions but wouldn’t share them unless you were in his inner circle.
Losing him was one of the harshest blows in my life, and I still look over my shoulder at dusk in the fields, thinking he’ll show up sometimes.
“You all right?” Dad catches me staring into the abyss, and I cringe.
Even if Nonno was my best friend, it didn’t mean the Ashton men couldn’t read each other like a book. It’s a goddamn superpower of my father and brothers, it seems.
“Todd found a corner of the property, about four half-rows of crop, that were completely damaged. It’s probably not salvageable.”
“You thinking it’s just pests, animals, or something more?” Dad doesn’t look too concerned.
I run my hand over my jaw. “Not sure yet.”
My father shrugs. “Check the tapes, but this time of year, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was just a bunch of deer or foxes causing a ruckus.”
He’s probably right, or at least I tell myself that. “Yeah.”
“Otherwise, everything okay? You missed Sunday dinner last week.”
I hadn’t thought anyone would care when I faked being sick as an excuse not to be at my parents’ house for our weekly tradition, but apparently, it was noticed. I love spending time with my family, even with the grumpy act I put on, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it a couple days ago.
I’d been feeling particularly down for no real reason, and knowing I’d have to go and sit in the presence of so many couples who were so damn in love had me nearly breaking my back molars I’d ground down so hard.
Telling my father I was lonely, yearning, and lost was not an option, though. I’d kept my feelings for Gabrielle a secret for twelve years until Patrick and Alana sniffed them out, and that was bad enough. They didn’t even know the whole story or extent. I didn’t need or want my family all up in my business trying to fix it for me if they got the full reasoning for my ghost-like nature these days.
“Yeah, just recovering from the migraine I had. It took me out this weekend.” A lie, but the only one I have.
Dad nods. “All right, well, you have any more work you need help with?”
A bell clangs in the distance, and I know it’s Mom looking for him. She installed that bell on the back porch when we were all just kids to wrangle us in for dinner while we were off playing in the fields or woods behind our property.
“Mom is going to drag you in by the ear if you don’t go willingly.” I raise an eyebrow at him.
He hangs his head in defeat. “I’m not meant for this! I need to do something.”
That has me huffing out a laugh. “Aren’t these supposed to be the golden years? The best time of your life? Go do that.”
“Your mother is going to make me relax into my grave,” he mutters but walks back to the quad.
Why do I have a feeling he’s going to take off for a little drive in the woods to get his blood pumping before going back to the main house?
As for me, I’ll take these over, unload them, and do enough loathsome paperwork that my eyes droop and my brain shuts down.
Only then will I be able to crash onto my mattress and sleep without dreams and nightmares of Gabrielle waking me in the night.
4
LIAM
Half of my beer is gone by the time Patrick rushes into The Laura Inn, our usual once-a-week happy hour drink spot.
“Sorry, sorry, the baby was in a fuss trying to go down and I didn’t want to leave Cass.” He shuffles onto the brown leather bar stool next to me, his face flushed and hands trembling.
“We didn’t have to come out. Jeez, you should have told me.” Now I feel guilty, even though I’ve been looking forward to this little brotherly chat all week.
The two of us have been coming to the Laura for years. In part for its top-shelf drinks at a discount for us since our father and the owner go way back, the edgy but beautiful decor that was elevated from some of the dive bars in downtown Hope Crest, and easy nature of the place. But also because I insist on it; I wasn’t always the best big brother, but I could put my moods aside to realize I still need to bond with my siblings. Most nights Patrick and I went out, we’d be joined by our sister, Alana, and her now husband, Warren, who we grew up with. Now that Evan has moved home, he’ll come join us if the restaurant is closed for the night.
Tonight, it’s only the two of us, and my brother’s new fatherhood shows all over him. “No, no, it’s still nice to get an hour to myself. Cass insisted.”