Out of Exile

She flashed him a quick smile. “You wouldn’t know. I wasn’t much of a coffee drinker seventeen years ago. Black is fine.”

Once the coffee was poured, they sat side by side at the table and he looked at her expectantly. “Thank you for letting me sit in at the family meeting. It was quite interesting,” she began.

One of his dark eyebrows rose. “Interesting? Hardly the term I would use to describe our infrequent gatherings.” He took a sip of his coffee. “Now what was it you wanted to discuss with me?”

“I was wondering if you knew the name of a good doctor here in town? I’d like to get a complete checkup for Aunt Clara before I leave here.”

“Is she ill?”

“No, nothing like that,” she assured him. “She’s had a couple of dizzy spells and I’d just feel better if she got a complete physical.”

“Johnny Howerton is the local doc. I’ll dig up his number and give it to you in the morning.” He leaned back in his chair, looking more relaxed than he had all evening.

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” She sipped her coffee and studied him above the rim of her cup. “Can I ask you a question?”

“If I tell you no will it make any difference?” He offered her a small smile and for just a moment she saw the ghost of the handsome young man she’d enjoyed on those summer days so long ago.

“Probably not,” she replied with a grin. She took another drink of her coffee, then wrapped her hands around the mug and looked at him. “Why do you want to sell your share of this place?”

He scowled and stared down into his own mug. “I told you before, I haven’t made any final decisions yet.”

“But why would you even think about it? It’s so beautiful here, and this place holds your roots, your past. Even when you were young, you talked about this place as if it lived and breathed inside of you, was an integral part of who you are.”

He was silent for a moment, then his frown deepened and he sat forward. “What difference does it make to you if I sell out or not?” he asked, a touch of impatience in his voice.

“Certainly it doesn’t make a difference to me, I was just curious, that’s all.” She hesitated a moment, then continued, “And I was curious about why you and your brothers and sister are all so angry with each other?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied curtly. “Nobody is angry with anyone.” His mouth said one thing, but his eyes said another. They were gray, stormy depths that radiated with a turbulence that belied his words.