I looked at the hole one last time and bit my lip. "You're right. Let's just forget about all this."

He chucked me under my chin and said, "That's my girl. Get dressed and you can make us coffee."

I bristled a little at his order, but Chip gave me a kiss on the lips and turned away, pulling open a drawer for a clean shirt. It was Sunday morning and we usually had coffee together on his patio. The weather was nice enough this time of year for that and I wanted to enjoy it before the seasons changed and the cold storms of winter came in. Without another word, I finished dressing and headed to the kitchen.

Chapter Eight.

Aedyn I looked out the window at the Hometown Reality sign swinging in the light summer breeze in the front yard. My father's house had been left to me in his will, but I didn't want it. It had once held pleasant childhood memories, but then my mother was diagnosed with brain cancer. At that point, everything in my life became divided into before the cancer and after. Everything changed, especially my dad.

I pushed the curtain aside as I noticed Aunt Melissa's car pull into the driveway. It was simple and gray, just like this town. Watching her step out of that dull car was like the sunshine on a cloudy day. Everywhere she went, she brought happiness and light. At least for me she did. She was my one saving grace after my mother passed away.

I threw the front door open even before her foot hit the first porch step.

"Aunt Melissa." We embraced and she smiled her special smile at me. Her hugs were like the smell of freshly baked bread. "Come in."

As she stepped into the living room, she said, "Aedyn Dell Cumberland, this place is a mess."

She was right. There were cardboard packing boxes strewn about the room, some half-filled and others waiting to do their job.

She sighed dramatically. "I can't believe you don't want to stay and live in this house in lovely Granger, Iowa."

She gave me a crooked smile; she knew this small town held no allure for me. I had my life in Chicago. I was the owner of a million dollar corporation; I lived in an upscale apartment in downtown and had no attachments. I could party with whomever I wanted, wherever I wanted and whenever I wanted and that's the way I liked it.

Damn. I wished I was partying now; a nice shot of coke would feel good as hell at the moment. I didn't bring any with me, didn't expect to be here this long. Plus, I only allowed myself that special treat on the weekends.

"You know I can't do that. I have my life in Chicago."

"I know, sweetie, just yanking your chain. Anyone special there? Any girl who has ahold of your heart strings? I'm not getting any younger, I want to be a grand-aunt someday."

I rolled my eyes. "My job is my love and my lady." I lied. I didn't have the heart to tell her I preferred to be unattached, or the balls to tell her I preferred several ladies attached to me at the same time.

I didn't want to burst her bubble of me being a good guy, or maybe such a common guy. I didn't like being viewed as ordinary. The average life wasn't for me anymore and I didn't want to be anyone's knight in shining armor either. Truth was, when it came to matters of the heart, I was broken.

Everything had happened so fast and life was so crazy when Mom died. I should have been having the kind of senior year in high school that made memories for the rest of my life. Instead, the girl I adored rejected me at the same time I lost my mother. I often wondered if it was the melding of those two emotionally jarring events that somehow left me damaged.

She walked over to the window and threw back the dark curtains, letting in the sunlight of the day. "Well, I'm glad you finally came home to grace us with your presence, even if it took your father's funeral to get you back here."

I tucked my chin to my chest. I almost hadn't come. My first reaction on hearing the news was to say, "So what." I wasn't surprised by it; he had been drinking for years. "When you called, I almost told you to just have the state bury him. What'd he ever do for us?"

"I know, Aedyn," she said with a placating look.

"She was your sister and he was mean to her in the end. Why do you even care?"

"I guess drinking was his way of handling her cancer and everything that followed."

"He was a coward. He couldn't handle Mom's cancer diagnosis so he drank. He deserved to die alone." I knew it sounded harsh, but I didn't give a damn. He was a loser who brought nothing, but sadness and disappointment to my life. Some father-figure he turned out to be. "Why should I care about him?"

"He was your father."

"He was a sperm donor."

"Bitter are we?"

I shrugged my shoulders. Although I was close to my aunt and I could talk to her about anything, I didn't feel like psychoanalyzing old wounds right now. I just wanted to get this over with and get back to Chicago.

Aunt Melissa gave a sweeping look around the room and set her purse down on the couch. "I suppose." She was quiet for a moment and then said, "Richard abandoned the house the last couple of years. No one knew where he was. He was behind on the property taxes and in the end... who knows if he even made all of the mortgage payments. It's a shame."

I knew. And he hadn't. I had, for some stupid reason. I walked over to one of the packing boxes and lifted a porcelain knick-knack out of the box. "Do you want this?" It was an elegant porcelain figurine of a beautiful woman in a flowing gown. The long skirt of her white dress billowed out to the side and a blue shawl draped over her arms blew in the same direction as the skirt, as if she were walking through a pleasant breeze. The statue's hair swept with it and she was looking over her shoulder at a bird perched on the wind-swept scarf. I knew these statues were collector's items among women my aunt's age and thought she might like to keep it.

She looked at it and a slow smile crossed her face. "Your mother collected those. I'm surprised you found it. I thought Richard got rid of all of her things after she died. I came over here once in a while and noticed her things would be gone piece by piece. Then, I just stopped coming by."

"Who took care of the yard? I expected it to be an overgrown jungle by the time I came."

Aunt Melissa shot a sheepish glance my way and said, "I confess. I came by once in a while to mow the yard and trim the hedges. I didn't want the city to fine him for neglect of the property. I kind of always thought of the house as yours anyway, seeing that you're the only child."

"Thank you for that. You're very thoughtful, but..." I made a sweeping gesture around the room with my hand. "Take anything you want, furniture, dishes, anything that strikes your fancy. I'm getting rid of all of it."

"It looks like you have quite a job here, to pack up all of this."

"Yes, I do. The place was in disrepair when I came in, but I'm staying here just the same. Better than Motel 6." There wasn't much in the way of accommodations in this town; especially any that matched the caliber of what I'd grown used to. Since I had to clean this place up, I decided it was better to just stay here for the brief time I needed to finish the job. I'd considered hiring a company to pack it all up and haul it to the local thrift shop-or the dump-but had invited my aunt to come over and have first dibs on anything she wanted. I had no desire to make any money from what was in the house. In my eyes, it was all junk. I wasn't looking to make a profit from it or the sale of the house either. I had plenty of money of my own. All I wanted was to sell low and be done with it. I had a momentary thought of hiring a wrecking ball to level the place, but that fantasy was just fueled by my resentment.

The figurine landed in her big purse and we began the process of going through the house. I walked her into the kitchen and pointed out a matching teacup set she might be interested in keeping.

Then we walked into the family room, where there was a desk in the corner with a very outdated looking computer sitting on top. The screen was covered in dust, along with most of the items in the house. I had only bothered to clean the sheets on the bed I was using since I was throwing everything out. There was a book sitting on the desk. I picked it up and casually flipped through the pages. It was one of my old French textbooks from Roosevelt High School. I remembered how my father had berated me because I couldn't find it and he had to pay a fine to the school's library for not returning it by graduation.

Graduation. My jaw tightened at the memory. My mom had so wanted to watch me walk across that stage. She's held on, but only barely. She was in the hospital dying that day and I was by her side, having turned down the position of Valedictorian so I could stay with her.

I knew at the time she was in her last days and nothing else mattered but being close. Returning a fucking textbook was the last thing on my mind. I tossed the aged book aside. The last thing I wanted was a house filled with my father's crap to remind me of the past.

As Aunt Melissa examined an outdated lamp on the end table near the couch, she spoke. "I might take this," she said, bending over with her back to me. "It's still in good shape."

I knelt down to unplug the cord from under the computer desk and my hand hit an empty vodka bottle. I imagined my father kicking it across the wooden floor in a drunken stupor and it rolling there, staying for who knows how long. I knelt down on the edge of the dirty rug and pulled the plug, which seemed to be stuck. When it came out with a jolt I bumped my head on the underside of the computer desk.

"Damn it." I stood, rubbing my head and looking at the dinosaur of a computer. "Does this thing even work?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

"I didn't imagine my dad as having any tendencies toward technology." If he knew how to use a computer, why hadn't he contacted me? No emails, obviously no searching for me on the internet. Worthless piece of shit. Just more proof that I'd made the right decision to leave when I was eighteen and never look back.

I pinched my forefinger and thumb on the bridge of my nose. "Aunt Melissa, I'm going to have a Scotch on the rocks. Would you like one?" My words came out sounding terse. I softened my tone and added, "Sorry, or maybe a beer?" I couldn't remember ever seeing her drink hard liquor, although I'd seen her drink wine. The only food items in the house were beer and Scotch. I'd had my driver make sure the fridge was still in running condition and stock it with all the essentials... beer and ice.

"Oh, I shouldn't..." She straightened, but when she saw the look in my eyes she conceded, "But what the heck. I don't have any other plans for today."

I went into the kitchen where the empty glass from the night before was still sitting on the counter next to the sink. I threw the water from the melted ice down the drain and gave it a pass under the stream of cold water, then filled it with more ice and Scotch. This town, this house-too many bad memories I didn't want to face. Now, another memory to escape from... Lauren. I needed to get out of here fast.

Chapter Nine.

Aedyn When I entered the family room, Aunt Melissa was sitting on the couch, picking through the contents of an opened shoebox. Her once youthful hands held the old box by its tattered and frayed corners. I pushed the beer in her direction.

"Would you like a glass?"

"No, I'll drink from the bottle." That's what I liked about my aunt; she was a real down to earth person, not an ounce of pretense in her.

I tipped my glass and took a long drink before falling into the worn out springs of the couch. "You found them," I said, nodding toward the box. "Now I have no more secrets."

She smiled as her eyes fondly soaked in the old photographs she was holding in her hands.

"You're not getting rid of these, are you?"

Before I could answer, she laid them in her lap and adjusted her position, turning toward me slightly. "I didn't tell you this before the funeral, but when I got the call about Richard's passing, they said he died on the street, like a homeless person. They said it was due to his alcoholism." We sat in silence for a moment and then her eyes shifted to the right as if remembering something. "I still can't believe no one came to his funeral. He was one of ten children and not one of them attended. What a shame."

"You already said that." I said flatly, staring straight ahead, slunk back into the couch.

"What a shame," she said again.

"Well, I was there. Didn't want to be, but I was there. I did my duty." I spat the last word out with disgust and threw back the last of my Scotch. "A complete funeral for me and you and... who was that woman who came and stood in the back?"

"I didn't see anyone," she said, giving me a quizzical look as she lifted the photographs from her lap and began sorting through them again, talking to me, but her eyes were fixed on the pictures.

The ceiling held my attention as I finally felt the effects of the alcohol burning off the rough edges. "She was only there for a moment."

"I didn't see anyone, dear. Someone probably there on other business, most likely had nothing to do with us. The mind plays funny tricks when you're in mourning, you could have imagined it."

I wasn't in mourning. I didn't have sorrowful feelings about my father's passing, but I didn't think it wise to reveal that to Aunt Melissa. She was obviously more concerned about my father's reputation in town than I was, no matter how misguided. "Maybe... but I swear I saw someone standing back there just the same... whatever." I wasn't going to waste any more time thinking about it. I had a ton of work to get done and my work schedule already had a huge hole in it thanks to this funeral. When I left Chicago, I told myself I would work from here, at least stay on top of priority projects. It hadn't happened, too many ghosts were vying for my attention and right now the only thing I wanted to focus on was Scotch.

I stood up to freshen my drink and Aunt Melissa looked at me, her eyes almost pleading. "You're at least keeping this, aren't you?"

I shrugged and looked at the box. I took one of the photos out of her hand and glanced at it. "Doubt it."

"Aedyn Dell Cumberland," she scolded. "This is your past, your childhood. Isn't this one of you and your best friend, Garret, in high school?" She smiled, gazing at another photo. "Look at all that hair. What ever happened to that hairstyle? You don't see that anymore. Wasn't it called a mullet?"

My aunt's outdated fashion sense made me laugh out loud and it felt good to release that burst of air. She always had the ability to see my emotions, no matter how well I thought I hid them, and knew when to cheer me up. "Aunt Melissa, that hair style went out years ago."

"Well, look at this. Here's a picture of you and Lauren Mitchell at the high school science fair. Didn't you two date or something in high school?"

She handed me the picture and I stared at it, Lauren's youthful face beaming out brightly from its aged and faded surface. "Dated? No, not really." Crushed my heart into a million pieces? Yes. Humiliated me in front of the entire French class when she turned me down for prom? Absolutely.

Lauren had been a cheerleader, in with the "cool" kids. I wasn't. Back then, Lauren was out of my league. "We worked on a project for the science fair together while I secretly dreamed about her being my girlfriend. But that's all it was; she dated the captain of the football team."

"She looks pretty happy there standing next to you. Why didn't she partner up with her boyfriend for the project?"

I raised an eyebrow and tipped my head in her direction. "Are you kidding me? Football players aren't the brightest. And back then, I was a geek-remember?"

I tossed the picture back onto the coffee table, wishing my feelings were as easy to dismiss. I had wanted Lauren as my girlfriend more than anything in the world, but she wouldn't give me the time of day except when she needed a good grade on her science project. Any serious consideration as boyfriend material-no way. It was best to leave those feelings buried.

I headed to the kitchen to refill my usual choice of self-medication. I would need more numbing if I continued this trip down memory lane. Before I reached the threshold, I paused and turned back. "I saw Lauren; ran into her at the sandwich shop."

Aunt Melissa put the pictures back into the box, closed the lid and set it on the coffee table. Her eyes asked the question, "Oh really?"

I didn't want to open that old wound any deeper in front of my aunt so I tried to play it off as casually as possible. "Yea, right after the funeral home; the first day I got here." I shrugged and said, "Whatever" and walked into the kitchen.

I wished thoughts of her were as easy to walk away from, but they'd been poking at my mind from the very moment my limo drove into town. Unwelcome thoughts I swore to myself I was too disciplined to have. Yet, every time I came back here, I wondered if I might run into her, so I'd stay as briefly as possible.

Now, it had finally happened and I'd acted like a nervous schoolboy. Shit. Who was I kidding? She was probably married with children by now. I didn't talk to her long enough to find out. I didn't want to take the chance that talking with her would trigger old feelings again.

Fuck. I was still kidding myself. Seeing her had stirred up those feelings and it pissed me off. I wasn't that love stricken schoolboy anymore. I was a successful businessman, sought out by the ladies and yet... yet... that woman could still turn me into a puddle on the floor.

I needed to get her out from under my skin and running away obviously hadn't prodded her out. Hell, I'd fucked dozens of women since those high school days and this was still the one I focused on. Was it because she was the one that got away?

I stopped.

Maybe that's what I needed to exorcise her from my life. I needed to fuck her until my dick nearly fell off and then walk away and go back to my life.

I smashed the bag of ice to loosen the cubes from the giant clump they'd become in the old fridge, liking the idea more and more. Man, she really looked good, still beautiful as ever, smiling and, hell, at least she remembered me.

Was she still single? Where does she live? What does she do? I pounded the ice ball harder until shards and cubes flew in all directions. Aunt Melissa would know, but it would be stupid of me to ask. Did I really want to venture down that road?

"Everything okay in there?" she called from the other room.

I appeared in the family room, fresh drink in hand, noticing that my aunt was just finishing the last of her beer.

"Lauren works in town as a secretary for an insurance company." Damn. Aunt Melissa knows me too well. "It's Chip Harrison's company. Actually it's his father's business, but Chip pretty much handles everything when people call."

I bit the inside of my mouth, hoping to crush any excitement that might show on my face. I nodded, but before I could offer a response, I felt the vibration of my cell phone in my pocket.

"Excuse me, I have a call." I pulled it out and walked back into the kitchen to talk. I recognized the number; it was my assistant and I groaned, expecting another crisis at work. Sure enough it was, and this time it wasn't something I could handle over the phone.

When I ended the call, I went back to tell Aunt Melissa the words she didn't want to hear.

"I'm sorry. That was my assistant on the phone. It looks like I'm going to have to go back to Chicago." I was relieved. It looked like destiny was making my decisions for me. It was best to get out of town before I had any other stupid ideas about staying.

All she said was, "Oh" but I could see the disappointment in her eyes. She really was like my mother in the way she gave me that look.

"Something urgent has come up and I need to go back to handle it immediately. I'll have to leave tonight."

Aunt Melissa's look of disappointment faded to one of knowing. She gave me a soft smile that said this was nothing new to her. As usual, just a brief visit and then... gone.