Love in Riverbend

Chapter 4

Dax

Walking along Main Street takes me back to my years of visits. It's as if I have two hometowns, Oakmont, the one where I lived and went to school outside Chicago, and also Riverbend. This is the kind of town that welcomes loved ones of loved ones. I never felt like an outsider here.

And yet it has been too long.

Now, I'm not sure about the reception I'll receive.

Up ahead on the sidewalk, I watch as an elderly man on a bench turns my direction, opens his eyes wide, and stands. His bent frame is an outward sign of his years of hard manual labor on his large farm north of town.

A smile comes to my face. I wasn't sure if he was still alive.

Bruce Gordon was my grandpa John's good friend and the man I worked for during my summers. Today he's sitting on a bench outside the shops on Main Street.

“As I live and breathe," Bruce says, slapping my shoulder. “Look at you, Dax Richards." He grins as thousands of lines deepen on the skin of his sun-baked face. He scans from my loafers to my slacks and button-down shirt.

I'm dressed for my meeting with Grandma's attorney. He wants to talk to me alone before I sign off on the provisions of her will.

“Or are you Daxton now, a big deal from the Windy City?"

“Still just Dax, Mr. Gordon."

“How's life up there in Chicago?"

That is a loaded question that I'm not ready to answer with full honesty. In a nutshell, life in Chicago is hectic and busy. I've been concentrating on moving up the ladder of success instead of living a life. Hell, I was even in London when my grandmother passed. It seems as though I've become what I never wanted to be—my parents.

Being back in Riverbend reminds me how simple and satisfying life can be.

“You know what they say," I respond. “Rat race."

“Remember, it's better to be a bystander instead of one of the rats."

“That seems like sound advice."

Mr. Gordon nods. “Everyone sure is sorry about your grandmother. Ruth was loved by one and all. I miss seeing her smile at Quintessential Treasures."

I nod as I take a deep breath. “That's why I'm here."

“Ruth had a big heart. She knew what she was doing."

I start to ask if Bruce means about leaving the store to Kandace Sheers—of all people—but I stop. First, it isn't a bequeathal because the will specifies that the transaction will include a monetary payment, a common practice to avoid taxes. Nevertheless, that practice also undervalues Quintessential Treasures, something that as the executor of the will I can't condone. Second, even though this is a small town, surely not everyone knows the details of my grandmother's will. “That's what I'm here to find out."

“Some of the boys you used to hang out with are in the diner. They have breakfast most mornings before heading to work."

“That's where I'm headed. Cory invited me and told me not to be late."

Mr. Gordon smiles. “Good boy, Cory." He looks at his watch. “You better hurry."

Cory is now a vice-principal at the local elementary school, but to a man like Mr. Gordon, he's still a good boy. Cory is one of the friends from Riverbend I've stayed in contact with. We both attended Indiana University, giving us a connection beyond the summertime streets, parks, and ball fields of Riverbend.

As I start to walk away, Mr. Gordon reaches for my arm. “I know you'll do what's right, Dax. Ruth knew that too."

“I'm going to try, Mr. Gordon."

Something about his statement prickles my skin. Before I can give it more thought, I'm at the door of the Main Street Diner and peering through the glass windows. A bell jingles as I enter. Cory is the first person I spot. Throwing a few bills on the table he comes my way, shaking his head. “Dax, are you living on Chicago time?"

“s**t," I mumble, looking at my watch and the clock above the door. “I am."

“Well, I need to head to the school, but fix your damn watch and we'll reschedule. Hey, some of us are headed to Decoy Ducks tonight. You should join us and catch up."

“Who is some of us?"

“Most everyone. Tonight's the last softball game of the season. We need to celebrate our record."

I recall playing baseball during the summer with these guys. “You won. That's great."

Cory lowers his voice. “We weren't swept. That's a win. See you at nine at Decoy's or come by the ball fields at seven thirty and watch us strike out."

“Just like the good ole days."

He punches my arm. “Not everyone can hit it out of the park."

Before Cory turns to leave, another man I should recognize joins us near the door. “s**t, Dax, is that really you?"

Cory leans in. “Dax, you remember Ricky."

I offer my hand. “Hey, it's been a while."

After we shake, Ricky nudges Cory. “If Dax is in town, I say we make him an honorary teammate and let him play with us tonight. We can show those assholes from Trevor our secret weapon."

“Do you know how long it's been since I've hit a ball or worn a glove?" I ask.

“I guarantee you won't make us worse," Ricky jokes. “Besides, the guys will be glad to see you."

“So?" Cory asks.

I shrug. “Do you have an extra glove?"

“He's in," Ricky announces loudly to a large round table near the back of the restaurant.

One of the sets of eyes that meets mine are those of Justin Sheers. He has the same color hair as his sister—or as I remember. Nevertheless, I don't understand why he's looking at me the way he is.

Standing as tall as my six feet-plus will allow, I walk back to the table of men who I'd first met as boys. It's a bit of a surprise that these individuals have stayed so close over the years. The kids I went to school with in the suburbs of Chicago have all moved on to here or there. Even those who still live close have their own lives, ones that rarely intersect with one another's.

“Hi."

“Good to see you," comes from most present, along with the obligatory condolences for Grandma Ruth.

“So you're going to play ball tonight?" Mick Reynolds asks as he finishes his coffee.

Before I can answer, Justin stands. “Might want to figure out your time zone first, Richards. I thought expensive watches knew better."

I lift my wrist. “I left the expensive one in the safe, and you're right. I'm not sure why my phone didn't make the time change."

“Staying at Miss Ruth's house?" Mick asks.

“No, my folks have been working to ready it for sale. I spent the night over in Washington."

“If you need a key," Mick offers, “Kandace has one."

The sound of her name makes the small hairs on my neck stand to attention.

“Forget about Kandace," Justin says, coming closer to me. “I'm sure someone else has a key. If you need one, I'll call around or I can get the one from her."

I lift my hands as his approach becomes too close. “I've got a key. I just thought it would be better not to mess up the hard work of the contractors."

“Forget about Kandace anyway."

I shake my head. “Whoa, Sheers. I'm here for Quintessential Treasures. That's all."

Justin stands tall, inflating his chest. “From what I hear, you just need to sign the paperwork. Ruth and John planned out the rest."

Mick comes closer and slaps my back. “Hate to interrupt this friendly reunion, but we all need to head out. See you tonight."

“Yeah, see you tonight."

The table with chairs that held eight people moments ago is now surrounded by empty seats.

“Hey, honey."

I turn and meet Joyce Simpleton's smile and shining dark eyes. “Joyce. You still here?"

“And where do I have to go?" She tilts her head toward the booths to the side of the room. “Grab a seat. I'll bring you some coffee."

“Black. Thank you."

When she arrives with the filled cup and saucer, she speaks softly, “They were talking about your return. Thought maybe you got lost. You know, forgotten your way?"

“No, it was my—"

“Good to see you, Dax," she interrupts. “Mick was right. No reason to be staying at a hotel. Ruth's house is just sitting there."

“It's part of her estate."

“And last I heard you're the executor."

A smile comes to my lips. “So everyone does know about her will." It isn't really a question.

“We know John and Ruth were two of the best. We know your folks have been here, but Chicago is a lot closer than Florida. That's why Ruth named you as the executor."

Florida is where my parents now live.

I take a deep breath. “May I ask you a question?"

“Honey, you can ask. I can't promise I'll answer."

“What can you tell me about Kandace Sheers?"

“Pretty broad question," she replies. “What do you want to know?"

“Is she still here in Riverbend?"

Joyce nods.

“She married?"

Her lips come together. “Son, move to town for a few days while you're working things out. Open your eyes and see what there is to see. Keep your ears open too. You just might learn a thing or two."

“Did you hear what Sheers said?" When she shakes her head, I continue, “He told me to forget about her."

“Have you?"

“I thought I had. I convinced myself I had until I drove through Riverbend last night. Now I can't get her off my mind."

“How about you?" Joyce asks. “Married. Engaged. Gay. Dating."

Again I smile as it's my turn to shake my head. “None of the above."

“What can I get you to eat?"

I look at my watch and mentally add an hour. “s**t, I'm meeting with Jeffrey Murphy in half an hour."

“Plenty of time, seeing as his office is across the street and up the stairs."

“Joyce, are you trying to convince me of the advantages of small-town living?"

“Don't need to. They speak for themselves."

“I'll take a Western omelet."

“Hash browns or fruit bowl?"

“Both."

With a nod and a smile she is gone. A quick look at my phone tells me that it is on the right time. It is me and my old watch that aren't.