Page 16 of Loving at 40

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Anna invites me to spend the day at the beach with her and the reunion crew.

Zack and River. Logan and Autumn. Mason, Jenna, and Anna.

I’m the odd man out.

“Bryce and Calvin haven’t seen you since you’ve returned.” My nephews are nearly sixteen and eighteen, and Calvin heads off to college this fall. Remembering when I went off to school, I assume Anna’s struggling as our own mother did when I left, especially as I never officially returned home. Although it’s natural to fly from the nest, the loss will be another source of heartbreak for my sister. However, she eagerly did the same thing after graduating high school.

Thinking of the boys adds another layer of guilt to the one generated by my long-standing absence. They need a father figure, and I’m certain Ben knew it when he sent me a final message. A few weeks after his death, an email arrived from his sister. It explained how Ben had written his friends each a note to be distributed after his passing. They were the four points of a compass—Ben, Mason, Logan, and Zack—and I was not part of that instrument, but Autumn explained that her brother still had something to say to me.

Be home.

The phrase didn’t make sense. He had to mean come home. Either way, the message slathered on that guilt even thicker, but my work had been important for the past two decades. I’d helped bring down some bad people, hoping to keep more than one kid off the streets and away from the hard stuff by cutting off the source. I did it so kids like Bryce and Calvin could have a clean future despite their privilege. And let’s be honest, they were privileged, which meant they had the means to afford the shit hitting the streets. I didn’t want that crap anywhere near my family, though, and I justified my work as a necessity for them. To keep them safe. Despite the distance in years and miles, I did what I did for my family.

The timing of Ben’s directive was ironic. I only wish it hadn’t been because of his death. He had asked me plenty of other times when I planned to return home, always keeping the door open for me, but the timing never felt imperative until it became the only possibility. After Autumn’s email, I sent her the address of a post office box where I could receive the letter. The sliver of cardstock inside a sealed envelope arrived without further explanation. The only information Autumn offered was I had a year to complete the directive. The year was up. I was late again.

The concept seemed like a bunch of hocus-pocus to me until what happened shortly after receiving the note. By then, Anna had moved into the house, and I didn’t want to be a burden to her. I needed to get better, be better, before I came here. I should just tell Anna what happened to me. Confess everything. The absent years. The current situation. My job. My history. But I wouldn’t even know where to begin.

“Yeah, okay,” I mutter in response to Anna’s statement, knowing I actually do want to learn more about my nephews even if one is about to head off to college. “So, what’s the plan today?”

“Day drinking,” Mason Becker calls from behind me, and I turn to see the playboy friend of Ben’s I’ve never liked. I didn’t understand why Ben kept him around. Anna liked to remind me that Ben saw positive things in people others didn’t. I’d often wondered if he saw something in me I didn’t recognize in myself. Then again, Ben hardly knew me—not what I did, where I’d been or why—and I didn’t need his approval. I was Anna’s brother. Blood for life through thick or thin.

“Help carry coolers,” Anna directs while Mason helps himself to coffee. I don’t have a clue what the other guys received in their letters from Ben, and I don’t care what their instructions are as long as it doesn’t involve Mason getting near my sister. He was near enough, having lived in my apartment, helping Ben and Anna through Ben’s last year.

“I found a few things of yours left behind in my place,” I snap at the pretty boy, fluffing his artfully curled hair. I swear he probably used a hair dryer and curling iron on those copper locks.

“Pretty sure I cleared everything out. Even had the place cleaned.” Mason winks at me, implying his junk touched my sheets and left behind evidence of his doings.

“It’s a video.” I level my eyes at Mason, hinting I know his secret, but he stares back at me.

“I don’t make videos. You never know where that shit might end up.”

Anna drops a water bottle and squeaks as she separates her feet to avoid the jug hitting her toes.

“Dude,” I hiss as Mason chuckles at the suggestion of sex tapes.

“What am I missing?” Zack asks as he enters the kitchen area while Anna retrieves the water bottle from the floor and continues to pack a cooler. Noting my sister’s activity, Zack rounds the island. “I told you, River and I would handle all beverages. We aren’t here to invade.”

The soft reminder hints at the reason they are here. The anniversary of Ben’s death.

“River’s pregnant. She shouldn’t be doing anything,” Anna counters.

Zack snorts. “Try telling her that and be prepared for a verbal ass-whipping.” He reaches out for the water bottle in my sister’s hand and gently presses her to the side, taking over the packing of the cooler.

“Make yourself useful,” he demands of Mason, who leans his hip against the island, sipping his coffee but eyeing my sister.

“We were discussing Mason’s porn collection and how I found a few videos in the apartment,” I offer.

Zack stills before standing upright to face one of his oldest friends. “Aren’t you a little old for porn?”

“Never too old,” Mason jokes. That might be the one thing I agree with him on, although my viewing days are few and far between. Finding that video had been a fluke.

“Must we discuss your sex life so early in the morning?” Anna mutters, busying her hands by rinsing a pan in the sink.

“We aren’t discussing my sex life period because I don’t have one.” Mason speaks with such a serious tone even I almost believe him.

“Please,” Zack huffs, chuckling as he returns to filling the cooler.