Page 85 of You Found Me

“Oh, that’s not true. He’s the one who suggested we come,” Della said brightly.

“Uh-huh,” Mason said. Several expressions rippled across his brother’s face, none of them complimentary. He turned as if to walk away, but then stopped. “You know…this is the first time he’s ever shown uponmy birthday.”

Della shot an accusing look at Ward. “Ever?”

“I’m here now.” Ward didn’t like how defensive he sounded to his own ears.

“Yeah.” Mason huffed out a bitter laugh. “My eighteenth. Better late than never, right?” He stalked off.

“Eighteen years?” Della sounded stunned. “You haven’t been home for eighteen years?”

“I’ve been home,” he muttered. “Just not this time of year.”

Della stared after his brother. “Not once?”

“No.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it.

He didn’t like the calculated understanding that settled on her face.

“Your mother died in the fall, didn’t she.”

Old pain poked at him. “Yes.”

To force her to drop the subject, he headed for the bar. He’d get another home brew instead of the shot of whiskey he’d rather have and call that a rule bent, not broken.

Della stuck with him, giving him a look that held a lot more sympathy than Ward thought he deserved.

Dad handed him a mug before he could even ask. “You and Mason get into it?”

“You could say that.” Ward took a long swig.

The steely look in his father’s eyes made the niggling sense of guilt dig in deeper. “You had to know it was coming.”

“I was deployed. Then I had a business to get off the ground.” He wasn’t sure if he was saying that to his father or to himself. Either way, it suddenly felt like a poor excuse.

“He made captain his junior year.” Dad’s tone was casual but damning all the same.

“I know. I called. I sent those special cleats.” Like that would make up for all the missed days.

“We all know it’s a tough time of year for you, son.” Dad placed two mugs of cider on a tray. “But he spent that wholeseason waiting for you to come see him play. It isn’t easy living up to that bar you set.”

All of the implications in that one simple sentence painted a vivid picture in his head. Ward knew what that looked like. He’d lived it. He’d been that kid on the field, searching the bleachers for faces he hoped to see. His dad. Mom. Hell, even Aunt Martha.

They’d all been there for him.

But when his kid brother had looked into the stands, he’d searched for a face that wasn’t there because his older brother was too much of a coward to face his own demons. “Shit.”

Dad picked up the tray. “The guitar’s a good start.”

A bell clanged, catching everyone’s attention.

Elyse stood up on a bench. “It’s present time!”

Applause and cheers broke out as the crowd surged toward the back of the courtyard.

Elyse held up a cupcake with a single candle on it. “Sing fast, this candle is burning quick!”