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Where? When?I asked.
Now. I just passed him.
Are you sure it was him?
Yes!! I think he was injured. He had a cane.Three rapid fire texts erupted.
The front door opened, and Porter walked in, carrying a clipboard. I dropped my phone and went back to my computer, filling in another line item before looking up. Should I tell him? Lincoln was his almost brother-in-law, uncle to Porter’s son. It had been so long since anyone had seen Lincoln though, not since right after high school. To my knowledge, he had never met the baby and possibly didn’t even know there was one.
We had all gone through school together and were closer than any of us wanted to be. Mike and Porter had been best friends. Lincoln’s sister Gina had been one of the smart kids. They had their own AP classes and generally kept to themselves. Everyone knew Lincoln, but he had been a quiet and broody teen, sitting at the back of the class, always getting into trouble. I had my own small clique and rarely ventured out of it.
Whenever I had class with Lincoln, I caught myself staring at him. He had dark hair and dark eyes, and his lack of interest in interacting with the rest of the students intrigued me. What had he known that the rest of us didn’t? Was he dreaming of foreign lands even then? While the rest of us were sneaking around down at the lake, Lincoln had been doing his own thing. I had never seen him with a girl.
Then he was gone. After we all graduated, some people went off to college while others got a job, but Lincoln just disappeared. The Wellers sold the lumberyard to Mr. Matthews, and I was hired. Porter started as a laborer, hauling lumber on and off delivery trucks. Then he started dating Gina and went through his sober awakening. Now he was one of the two managers who oversaw the daily operations while Mr. Matthews checked in occasionally from his home.
I had an opportunity to ask my boss’s boss about his son once, and Mr. Matthews had told me Lincoln had joined the Army.
“He’s deployed in Afghanistan,” Mr. Matthews had said.
“I’m sorry,” I responded. I didn’t know much about the military but understood enough. No matter what had transpired between a father and a son, no man would wish his flesh and blood to go through hell.
Mr. Matthews had nodded. There had been a lot unsaid, but I could tell by the way he didn’t open up that he had suffered many sleepless nights. It seemed as if Lincoln was continuing his tradition of walling himself off. All through high school, he had been an outsider, and after, he had just run away. He had run farther than I could have imagined—to the desert on the opposite side of the world.
Now he was back, and I was bursting with questions. Had he told his father? Did Porter know? If Porter did or didn’t know, was that any of my business? In a town this small, everyone seemed to be in everyone else’s life, and gossip was the common language. I couldn’t tell if I was out of bounds saying something, and yet, if I didn’t speak and the family was unaware, was I doing them a disservice?
I decided to tell Porter to see his reaction. “I just heard something interesting.”
He paused on his way to the stairs, giving me a polite but unconcerned glance.
I drew in a breath and continued. “Lincoln Matthews is back in town.”
Porter’s eyes went wide, and his clipboard slowly lowered to his side. “When? How did you hear?”
“Mary Beth texted me. She passed him on Main Street. She said he was walking with a cane.”
“Okay,” Porter said. I could see him doing calculations in his head. What did this mean for Gina? For the baby? For Gina’s dad? “Thanks.” He continued his journey to the second floor, leaving me alone once again. I began typing, hearing his footfalls on the stairs. A moment later, the footsteps retraced themselves,and Porter reappeared in the front office. “Are you coming to dinner on Thursday?”
We had a standing dinner date on Thursdays, Porter, Gina, the baby, and me. They had kind of adopted me, seeing as I didn’t have a family or a relationship of my own. After high school and recovering from his downward spiral, Porter became more social than ever. Four years sober and he was practically having guests over every day. I knew he had a close group of friends, some of which had moved to Singer’s Ridge recently. I was happy to be included, and I considered him to be almost more of a friend than a boss. Gina was kind as well, and we had a lot more in common now than we ever had before.
“Of course,” I answered.
“We’ll talk then,” Porter said. “Thanks for telling me.”
I smiled. Whatever I was thinking about Lincoln being back in town, I couldn’t imagine the emotions it was dragging up for Porter. The last time we had all seen Lincoln, we were just a bunch of kids and their mom had recently died. Now Porter was engaged to the guy’s sister and filling in for him as far as his dad was concerned too.
It was none of my business but seeing as how I spent eight hours a day at the lumberyard and one evening a week with my boss and his family, I couldn’t escape feeling concerned. I wondered about all the hurt feelings and remembered the pain I had seen on Lincoln’s father’s face when I had asked him about his son.
Porter and Gina were happy, but would this mess things up? And at the very back of my mind, in a spot I hadn’t visited since high school, I wondered if Lincoln would remember a girl who stole glances at him in third period chemistry.
3
LINCOLN
Ididn’t usually sleep. The previous night was no different, but instead of lying in a hospital bed, pretending to sleep for hours, I stayed up on the sofa and channel surfed. It was a relief and a terror at the same time. I had to do something to occupy the early morning hours, which allowed me to drift off for an hour or so.
When six o’clock rolled around, I stood up, stretched, and wandered over to my kitchen to get some breakfast. I hadn’t been to the grocery store. I supposed I would have to go soon and dreaded the idea. There would be people everywhere, people I knew and who would recognize me. They would stop and stare or try to strike up polite conversations if they were brave. I didn’t want any of that.
I opened the cabinets to see if there was anything inside and was pleased to find half a tin of coffee and some filters. I pulled them out, set them down on the counter, and plugged in the coffeemaker. It was a tiny little machine, with only enough space in the pot for three cups. Still, three cups were enough for oneperson, and I went to work filling it up. Such a mundane task, but it felt good.
