Page 113 of Just for Tonight

“Any idea where I might find him?”

“On a Saturday morning?” Mike ponders this and I hear women’s voices in the background. Sylvia and their daughter, Sierra, undoubtedly.

“Candace says he stayed out last night.”

“Oh, then he would have been drinking in Havelock with his buddies, and that means he’s hung over.”

This is apparently so routine that Mike knows the script.

“Then they’ll go to that breakfast place in Havelock. You know the one. Monty’s Diner.”

“Is it still there?”

“Yup. Then he’ll come home and either sleep it off or head to the orchard.”

“The orchard?”

“Dad let him plant a bunch of fruit trees on a bit of scrap land. It’s beside the ravine near Greenhouse Seven. Sloped and rocky land. Too small an area for a greenhouse. Ethan planted a double line of fruit trees there a couple of years ago.”

“Why?” I am astonished that Ethan showed that much initiative but not surprised that his actions make so little sense. Of course, no one says that he actually planted the trees himself.

“He says he wants to make fruit wines. I don’t think much has happened yet, except Dad gave him a bunch of money. He has nice business cards and is supposed to be working on the website.”

“Doesn’t he need to actually have a product to sell?”

Mike laughs a little. “I guess it’s a process. But you might find him there. There’s an old shack there that he’s fixed up a bit.”

I can totally understand that Ethan might want to sleep off a binge somewhere not close to Candace. She tends to flutter and would probably check on him every ten minutes, maybe wake him up just to verify that he was sleeping.

The wedding is at one so I suit up, but leave my jacket and tie in the back seat of the car. I head over to the so-called orchard, expectations low. There is a two-track leading along the creek, and a sign at the road. It is a good logo. Striking and colourful. I drive slowly toward the shed, which has recently been covered with silver aluminum siding and given a green metal roof. There is no vehicle, so I park in what looks like a parking spot and get out.

Is Ethan even here?

Do I dare to leave my car undefended in his proximity again?

I lock the car, give it a pat, and stroll toward the line of fruit trees. They’re young, but I can see fruit on them. I don’t know a lot about fruit trees, but these seem to be healthy and well-tended. The vegetation is mowed around them and they’re being trained to grow vertically. Their leaves are lush and green, and unblemished.

“Come to find fault?” Ethan demands and I turn to find him behind me.

“I came looking for you. Healthy trees.”

“So?”

He is looking for a fight but I don’t want to give him one. “How many do you have?”

“Does it matter?”

“No. I’m just curious.”

“Don’t be.” He folds his arms across his chest and glowers at me. He looks as rumpled as the last time I saw him, if in jeans and a shirt instead of pajamas, and I’ll guess that he just woke up. “Why don’t you just leave?”

I take measured steps toward him. “Because I came to talk to you and we haven’t done that yet.”

“We don’t need to.”

“I think we do.”

“Well, you’re wrong. I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to deal with any of you. I just want to do my own thing, but I can’t even do that now.” He steps closer and gives me a hard poke in the chest with one finger. He’s not gentle. It will leave a bruise but I don’t take a step back, and that doesn’t improve his mood. “And you took my fucking car. You bastard!”