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“Our dear Sadie here was just singing your praises, my friend,” Alex told him brightly, smiling mockingly between the two of us. I couldn’t look at him without wanting to snap.
Connor was staring at me intently and I could feel his gaze, but I looked down at my roll, tearing off little pieces and popping them in my mouth quickly and without really thinking about it. I didn’t even taste the cinnamon roll as I ate it.
The remainder of the long train ride was awkward and quiet, no doubt because of the annoying tension between the three of us. Soon enough, in the warmth and the dark of the train, I felt myself falling asleep in the seat beside Connor. I really wasn’t sure how much time had passed on the train ride, but it seemed only a few minutes later that Connor was shaking me awake. Alex was nowhere to be found. I jumped away from Connor’s side quickly and stretched my arms out, tossing my coffee cup in the trash can as we left the train.
“Alex is heading to his hotel, for now, I think,” Connor told me over the low, growling roar of the engine as we stepped onto the train station’s platform, and a thrill of relief went through me.
The sun was low in the pale sky and when I checked the big, golden clock in the station’s little lobby, it read it was nearly five. Outside, the rolling hills of West Virginia, and the towering, far-off mountain ranges, greeted me like old friends. I pulled my thick coat tighter around me and took in the smells of home, smiling at the familiarity of it all. The smoke of the many burning fireplaces of houses was in the air and the sharp smell of pine trees permeated through the outside of the station. I smiled at the myriad of Christmas decorations and twinkling lights that dotted the outside of the small train station. The town itself was quiet around us, so very different in contrast to the constant noise and hubbub of New York City’s buzzing nightlife. I was happy to be away from it all.
Connor shivered violently in the chill, mountain air. I could see that he was way out of his depth in the rural setting, and I wanted to grab his hand to let him know that we were in this together. My fingers twitched to touch him, but I stopped myself at the last moment out of fear and sighed. I called us a cab and we hopped into the dingy seat, after tucking our luggage into the back. I gave the driver my dad’s address as he pulled away and he smiled warmly into the rear view mirror. “Ben Harlow’s place—is that right? Your dad is Benny Harlow?”
“Yes, Ben Harlow is my dad…” I repeated to the man hesitantly, wondering if I was about to get kidnapped in my own hometown by some obsessed weirdo. “Why do you ask?”
“Do you know him or something?” Connor asked.
The man nodded happily while still looking back at us in the mirror. He pushed up his glasses with one weathered, brown hand. “Ben is always talking about you and Oliver when he comes by the diner in town. I’m Frank Lloyd. You probably don’t remember me, but I knew you when you were just a little thing. Your mama used to work at my restaurant in town before she finished vet school, way back when.”
“Nell’s? That’s your restaurant?” I asked him, recalling a vague memory of my mother coming home smelling of French fries and diner coffee when I was small. She would tuck me in, warm in my little bed, and I would fall asleep to dreams of her.
Frank stared at the road ahead doggedly and I could see his eyes glisten the tiniest bit in the rearview mirror. “Yeah, that’s right, sweetheart. Nell was my wife. She was a good woman, my Nell. One of a kind.”
Was, I thought with a wistful sadness. How wonderful and terrible it must have been to love someone so deeply and so fully. Even with the chance of losing them, that encompassing love was something I could only dream about.
Frank looked at Connor and said, his lined face told of the seriousness of his words, “You hold onto her, son, and you don’t let her go. Not ever.”
Chapter 12
Connor
Ben Harlow was a tall, jolly-looking man with wide shoulders and a rounded belly that spoke of good meals and happy times. He was wearing what looked like a handmade, warm wool sweater and loose work pants with weather-worn boots. He bounded down the front steps of the sprawling white farmhouse nestled deep in the low mountain valley. I couldn’t see anything beyond the house in the evening dark, but I knew there to be a barn and a myriad of livestock, from Sadie’s descriptions. He let out a boisterous laugh and all at once I saw Sadie in the planes of his face and the auburn of his hair. He ran to her, lifting his daughter up and spinning her around with excited laughter. Sadie let out a sound of complete and total happiness, which I had never heard from her. I decided to make it my personal mission to hear it again. Night was falling softly over the countryside, and the temperature dropped significantly as the sun dipped beyond the horizon.
