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The parking lot next to the viewpoint in the Hills is deserted, which makes sense given it’s after one in the morning. By the time we get to the path leading through the trees, I’m certain there’s no one around. Not that there ever is on the other side of this path. Cora suggested we stay in—not to worry about the drive she’d asked for. But I want to fulfill my promise to her. There has to be at least one promise I don’t break in coming back here.
I keep a blanket in my truck and I lay it out on the grass. This is a secluded part of the viewpoint, through a little deer trail that looks like it goes nowhere.
Cora sighs contentedly as she sits down next to me. In front of us is a sweeping view of Quince Valley—the back of downtown, below, the river, sparkling in the starlight, and on the other side of the valley, the Rolling Hills, glowing in the trees.
“So this is your favorite place in Quince Valley, huh?”
“I dunno, the Rolling Hills comes pretty close now, especially after today.”
She looks at me and smiles.
You have to stop looking so beautiful, Cora Caplin.
“I used to come here after leaving your place, when I didn’t want to go home.”
“You came all the way up here?”
“On my bike, no less. Until I got my driver’s license.”
She’s quiet a moment, then says, “Have you seen your mom since you’ve been back?”
I shake my head. “I didn’t come back for her.”
For a moment, Cora looks painfully sad. Then she dips her head into my shoulder. “I’m sorry it wasn’t easy for you.”
I brush the hair from her cheek before leaning back on my hands. “I had you guys. Your family was everything to me.”
Cora turns then, inspecting me. “Why did you and Sam stop talking?”
For a moment, I was stunned. I thought she knew. “He never told you?”
She shakes her head. “He never talks about it. Just said you guys had a disagreement. Then you left town and he did too, right after. It had to be bad though, if neither of you came back.”
I sit up, my heart pounding. I rub at my jaw, considering what to say. My stubble’s already coming back. I wish it were longer, that I could pull that cap down and disappear.
“I broke my promises,” I say finally. It hurts my stomach to tell her the truth. But she needs to know, whether Sam wanted her to or not.
“What kind of promises?” Cora asks.
I look out at the stars, unable to meet her eyes. “One of them was we were going to start a business together.”
That’s not the answer she was expecting, I can tell.
“A business?”
“We talked about it for years, since we had that little side business building wood stuff for people.” Every summer from when we were around thirteen, Sam and I put signs up all over town that we’d build small items for people—Sam’s dad had a workshop with a few tools.
“The mailboxes!” she exclaims.
“Not just mailboxes,” I said, mock insulted. “Birdhouses too.”
“But everyone wanted those cute little mailboxes you guys made. We still have ours.”
I nod. “Sam loved building those things. I was trying to save up for a car, but I think he didn’t really care about the money. He just liked making stuff. He came up with this plan for us to be homebuilders after that new house went up next door to you guys. Do you remember?”
“Yeah, Reilly and Sons built that place.”
Reilly and Sons were a family company who built most of the wood frame homes around Quince Valley.
