Eyes on Iris

5. Return of the Prodigal Son

Walford.



Hunter took a deep breath while looking out the window of the truck. Julio, the caretaker of his father’s estate, fetched him from the airport. After finding about his father’s death, he took the next flight back to his hometown and slept throughout the trip to rest his mind.

He didn’t want to think. Not yet.

“Everything looks the same,” he mumbled while they drove down the long winding road heading to the mansion. The woods, the palm trees, the concrete, and even that signage were being kept well.

“Alex loved going home, you see.”

Julio was his father’s age. They were good friends who worked together on the farms around Walford when they were younger. The casualness in his voice and form of address was not new to him.

For Hunter, the man was already a family relative.

He nodded in agreement as he continued to relish the sight of the greenery. When Julio took a right turn, he saw the familiar Victorian structure atop a hill growing bigger. A pang of guilt hit him to the core the moment the truck finally stopped by the driveway.

It was the very spot he had seen his father for the last time three years ago. His old man stood there, looking at him with raging eyes, hoping to change his mind about leaving for Sommerbank with Cathy.

Sneering inwardly, he could only blame himself for doing such a stupid thing.

“Doris is waiting for you, son,” Julio spoke, snapping him out of his reverie.

Hunter grinned at the mention of the woman. Doris was Julio’s wife and the head steward in the mansion ever since he was just a child. The lady was kind and caring and treated him like he was her own. He remembered her fondly baking his favorite oatmeal cookies whenever he was down or moody.

“She didn’t have to,” he whispered.

“You know the woman. She will not accept a no.”

Getting off the truck, Hunter slightly pursed his lips. He did not want to bother people just because he was back. In fact, he was clueless to what kind of reception he would be getting. Plus, he did not have the slightest idea what to do now or after his father’s burial.

He felt lost—in his own home.

Heaving a few deep breaths, Hunter entered the massive double door entrance. A maid was already waiting inside and took his carrier. When he did not recognize the lady, he assumed that many things may have changed since the day he left.

Subconsciously, he dragged himself toward the dining hall, knowing that Doris would be there. So, when he spotted the old woman’s familiar plump figure, he sighed in relief and broke into a smile.

“Nana…” he called.

“Hunter, my dear boy!” Doris gasped, turning in his direction. The joy in her voice was unmistakable as she welcomed him with her arms wide open.

Grinning, Hunter held the old woman in a tight hug. She had always been sweet, and her warmth brought assurance to his doubtful mind. It did not hit him until that moment that at the bottom of his heart, there was fear that the people whom he had left would treat him differently.

“Look how handsome you are,” Doris commented, patting his cheek affectionately. She was smiling, yet it did not reach her eyes.

“What are you saying? I have always been,” he joked.

Doris clicked her tongue and eyed him humorously.

“Come. I’ve prepared food for you. I expect you’re hungry from your trip.”

“Thanks.”

Hunter hugged her one more time before settling down behind the long table. As he ate his meal, he could feel his Nana’s probing stare, watching him quietly from the opposite side. It was something she had always done ever since he was young. So, it never bothered him at all. He remembered her telling him she found happiness just seeing him enjoy her cooking.

When he was almost done with his food, she suddenly inquired, “How’s the big city life?”

He lifted his head, not knowing how to respond. When he left, his Nana was the most upset next to his father. It would only break her heart if he said he hated it and it sucked.

After all, he deserted his world and loved ones, trading it for the ugly city life—all for Cathy.

Forcing a smile, he shrugged. “It’s okay. Not that bad.”

Doris looked at him meaningfully but kept mum, for which he was grateful for. It was not because he did not want to tell her about his life in Sommerbank. He just didn’t want to lie.

That’s just not him.

Hunter thought one day he would come clean and tell her tales of his experiences there.

But that was not the time.

“Everything is ready in your room. Now, don’t hesitate to ask if there’s anything you would like me to get for you,” said the woman again, breaking the awkward silence.

“I will. Thank you.”

If it was someone else, they would have been offended by Doris’ words.

Why would he hesitate when it was his home—his place?

But Doris knew Hunter like the back of her hands. And he was glad that she was there to make him feel that he was expected. Her voice soothed him, reassuring him that nothing had changed, and he could still trust them.

Truth be told, Hunter was relieved that he did not have to express himself with words. Because he had no idea how or where to start—not yet.

After eating, Hunter headed straight to his old room on the second floor. Passing the living area brought back memories of him and his father watching movies when he was young, a reminder of the love he was raised with.

Move. Chop-chop.

One step after the other, he climbed the grand staircase that boasted intricately designed carvings on the wooden banister. He smiled to himself. In his mind, he could still hear his father’s voice saying the words, ‘Your mother picked this. She loved this design so much.’

Alexander Kingston II was a devoted husband. When Hunter’s mother passed away, he dedicated his life to building his business to give his child the best life there was.

But Hunter neither had any interest in anything extravagant. Instead of asking for a fancy sports car when he turned eighteen, he told his father that he wanted to make sure Kingston Ranch would stay in the family forever. This made his old man laugh, but still agreed to his wishes.

Hunter cherished a simple lifestyle. So, when he left with Cathy for Sommerbank, it shocked everyone around him. They were not expecting him to trade the life he loved for a woman who had just moved into town and swept him off his feet.

It was stupid of him to drop everything he valued for someone he barely knew.

Wincing at the thought, he stopped at the center of the landing platform and stared at the large oil painting of his parents. His mother passed away when he was just four. So, he had no memory of her. But this very portrait reminded him of what she looked like. Just looking at the warm smile and the spark of kindness in her eyes, Hunter could tell that she was a loving person. He didn’t even have to ask why his father had never fallen in love with someone else again.

Family.

It was something he thought he’d always have.

The vigorous man in his father may have spent most of his time on with work and business would never neglect his health.

Alexander Kingston II has always made sure not to cause concern to the people surrounding him.

But now he’s gone…