“It’s time for me to go.” Alec rose. “I guess Dad won’t want to come to the soft opening in a couple of weeks, but will you? Maybe bring a friend or two?”
She pressed her lips together, brows raised. He’d put her on the spot, but he wanted her support when he officially returned to the local restaurant scene.
“Sure, honey.” She patted his arm. “I can’t wait to hear everyone rave about your food.”
“Thanks, Mom.” He kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you soon.”
Instead of going directly to his car, he wandered through the darkening backyard, grateful for the warm breeze. Whacking through the overgrown arborvitae, he found the path that led to the aging octagonal tree house, centered on the tree trunk, about eight feet above the ground. Although long neglected, it still appeared to be in decent shape thanks to Mr. Cabot’s and his father’s solid clapboard construction job. He smiled, remembering being seven and thinking this fort was the coolest place on earth.
Alec tested the ladder rungs before climbing inside. He used the flashlight on his phone to peek around the space that held his boyhood hopes and dreams.
Animals had chewed through the old quilts and mattress, but an abandoned tapestry still hung on one wall. Plastic milk crates, emptied of their old treasures, littered the floor. The clear PVC curtains they’d hung in the windows to keep rain out were missing a few panels. Colby would be horrified. She’d always kept it clean, mostly because that had been the price Hunter demanded if she wanted to hang out with them.
Closing his eyes, Alec inhaled through his nose, taking in the familiar scents that opened the floodgates to many memories. The good ones. The years when Joe had wanted to be part of Alec’s life.
“Why can’t I stay?” Joe whined.
“Because you’re too young.”
“I’m in middle school now.” Joe straightened his spine, as if trying to compete with Alec’s height.
“Barely. Besides, Hunter and I have our own plans.” Alec tossed his sleeping bag on the mattress. “I’ll sleep out here with you some other night, Joe.”
Joe’s frown softened. “Promise?”
“Promise.” Alec tossed Joe a peanut-butter-and-fudge brownie, which Joe shoved into his mouth in almost one bite.
“One more?” he managed to say between chews.
“Only if you go home now.”
“Okay.” Joe held out his hand, and then, with a little sigh, turned to leave. At the top of the ladder, he said, “Next weekend is my turn, right?”
“Sure.” Alec sighed, anticipating a sleepless night in the tree house with Joe and his thousand questions. “Now go home.”
Naturally, Alec had taken his brother’s love for granted. He’d shooed him away as often as he’d given in. What he’d give now for a second chance. To turn back time and clear the air rather than let his wounded pride drive him to twist the knife.
Clearing his throat, Alec climbed back down the ladder, guilt cinched around him like a straitjacket. On his way back along the path, he heard faint music and other noises coming from Leslie Cabot’s. Veering to his right, he pushed through the shrubs leading to her yard.
In the distant glow of the back-porch lights, he saw Colby finishing her mother’s garden fence.
“Need help?”
“Oh!” She jumped. “Jeez, you scared me. What were you doing back there?”
“Checking out the tree house.”
Her face lit, and with her high ponytail, she looked almost as young as when they’d actually hung out back there. “Really? I haven’t been in ages.”
“We’ve been replaced by a family of squirrels.”
She laughed, lifting his mood. He’d always loved the sound of her laughter and the twinkle in those tipped-up eyes. “I hope they’ve enjoyed our little haven as much as we did.”
She blushed then, and he wondered if she might be remembering that old kiss. Probably not. It had only counted for one or two minutes among the thousands they’d spent there. Insignificant to her, anyway.
Her flush faded as her expression turned melancholy, and he suspected she thought of Joe.
“Too bad adults don’t have tree houses, too,” he said.
“Maybe I should’ve named my restaurant The Tea House,” she teased.
“A place for grown-up dreams.” They stared at each other, her face filling with approval, and he suspected she, too, missed the comfort that place of lost innocence had provided. Alec reached for the fencing. “Let me help.”
Colby paused before handing him the wire cutters. “You know, I’d worried things between us would be awkward, but you’ve gone out of your way to make it easy. Now it sort of feels like old times with us.”