Would I ever be fully on my game around him?

What game? I retorted back. Out of the three times I’d seen him since I’d come home, I’d been unbathed for two and inebriated for one. I was trying to win a constant losing battle.

Hearing the clinking of his tools did absolutely nothing to soothe my headache, but the uncomfortable silence was near deafening. I walked down the hallway to the bathroom and leaned my body and head against the door frame with my coffee in hand. “Why aren’t you an architect?” I asked in a low voice.

He paused what he was doing, wrench in hand suspended in midair and sighed. Throwing the tool back in the toolbox, he wiped his hand on his carpenter jeans. “Now she wants to talk,” he muttered under his breath just loud enough for me to hear. The tension in the tiny bathroom was unsurmountable; you’d have one hell of a time cutting through it with a machete. “I have my degree in architecture but shortly after graduation Dad got sick, too sick to work anymore. So I did my duty as a son to take over the family business since that’s what my family relied on for income. My mother owns seventy-five percent of the company now and I own twenty-five, and I can’t just let it run into the ground.”

“Is your dad better?”

He sighed again, which seemed to be a common theme around me lately, “He died almost eight years ago. When I said he got sick I was really just sugarcoating it. He found out that he had terminal cancer, stage three in the lungs. He was really lucky that he made it as long as he had, but he was a fighter and loved my mother something fierce, and he didn’t want to leave her alone. So now I take full responsibility for the company and Bentley works under me.” My hand had automatically covered my heart at the news of Mr. Jenkins passing. He was a wonderful man and I loved him as a second father; it broke my heart that my mom didn’t let me know. And to hear that Baylor was still such a truly selfless man, giving up his dreams in order to keep the family business alive, raised him even further in my estimation.

I didn’t really know what else to say, so I thought to bring up a safe subject, “How is Bentley?” Baylor was older than his brother Bentley by four years, and I remembered that during our senior year Bentley wanted to follow us around all the time.

“Bentley is Bentley, I suppose. I’m a hard ass on him only because it keeps him out of trouble.” You could see the pressure that was on Baylor’s shoulders, he was weighted down with not only being a father but also being the only dependable son. “Now since you are bombarding me with questions, it’s my turn…” I immediately held my breath almost as if I was waiting for the blow that was bound to occur. “Why did you run off last night?” My lungs deflated as my breath fled from my lips. “No, wait. The question that I really want to know is what happened to you fifteen years ago? Why did you run off?”

There it was, the blow that I had been anticipating since arriving back home. Since the elephant in the room had finally been addressed, my wall that I had strongly built was obliterated into a pile of useless bricks. My anger spiked and I slammed down my now-empty mug on the bathroom counter. “You think you have the right to ask me that?” I shouted.

“You’re damn straight I do!” He rose from his crouched down position and took a step between us, closing the distance as he grabbed ahold of my hand. “That was supposed to be our time, our summer, Edie.”

Oh God, why now? I felt the tears welling up in my eyes. Why of all the opportunities that he’d had did he chose that moment to call me Edie?

Chapter 6

Baylor

Between holding Eden’s hand and spending more time in her presence, so many memories were rushing back. I felt as if I’d never really gotten over her; in fact I knew I hadn’t. All of her defining qualities and features that I loved before had intensified as she became the woman trembling before me. Seeing the light go out in her eyes made me want to pull her even more into my embrace and tell her everything would be all right. But her reaction to my question had me wanting to know the answer even more. What happened that was so bad that she had to clam up whenever the question was asked? My anger at the entire situation grew as the thought of someone actually hurting her came to mind. I would kill anyone who laid a finger on her without her permission.

Her eyes locked onto mine, searching for her own set of answers, “Baylor, why did you seek me out and ask me to come to the reunion? It seems as if things were better left in the past.”

“What are you talking about? I didn’t contact you. I honestly didn’t have the faintest idea that you would be coming back, although it seems as if that’s all I’ve been doing, hoping and praying like hell that you’d come home ever since you left.”

Her chest began heaving; I would guess it was due as much to our close proximity as to our conversation, since we were just mere inches apart. She looked even more confused than she had before. She reached into the pocket of her worn-out bathrobe and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. “I’ve taken this with me literally everywhere since I received it. You wrote an email to me at my job stating that you wanted me to come to the reunion.” She handed me the printout, and my fingers brushed hers as I took it from her grasp, causing a little jolt of electricity that went straight to my heart.

I opened the email and scanned over the words.

My Sweet Eden,

Can you believe that it’s been fifteen years since I’ve last looked into your beautiful chocolate eyes? I remember them as if I had only seen them yesterday. I don’t know what happened all those years ago, but the invitation from the reunion has me reliving our final moments from the past. How are you? What are you doing? Are you well? These are questions I find myself asking on a daily basis, wishing I knew the answers. I hope you find it in your heart to come to the reunion and meet with me so we may catch up.

Sincerely Yours,

Baylor

The first thought that ran through my head was it was that rat bastard, Dean. But I quickly changed my mind; if he had found Eden I would’ve been the first person he told. It wouldn’t have been Kristina because she hated the ground that Eden walked on. There could’ve only been one other option as to who the author of the covert email could’ve been…

“Norah and Polly,” I announced.

“Who?” Eden questioned.

“Well, it seems that while your mother meddles in your life, my daughter and her pesky best friend have been meddling in mine.”

I looked over, past the paper in my hands just in time to see Eden’s face fall. “Oh, so you didn’t want me to come,” she stated rather than posed a question.

“No!” I quickly objected. “It’s definitely not that. I just don’t do the whole social media scene and since I was under the misleading impression that you were married, I didn’t want anyone to have false hope.” My cell phone began vibrating in my pocket and I yanked it out and looked on the screen, seeing that it was an emergency call. “Dammit!” I groaned, “I have to go.” I regretfully stepped back away from Eden and began shoving all of my tools back in the toolbox. With her bathtub unclogged there was no reason for me to blow off the emergency, not that I had it in me to do so anyway. Retreating towards the front door, I didn’t want to see the sadness painted on Eden’s face, but at the last moment I turned around to see her right behind me. “Can we talk later? I can pick you up here about 5:30?” She seemed to ponder my invitation before nodding with tears swimming in her eyes. I hated to leave with everything still up in the air, but hopefully with us going to a secluded place away from everything it would help break the dam of secrets.