“This one has that,” Justin insisted. “It’s just a different brand.” He handed the box to Wes, who assessed it with the most serious of expressions, which made Art chuckle—he wasn’t even sure why. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t similarly taken his time in the same section for the same reason, but he imagined it was mostly because of his shock from seeing Wes Brenner onceagain.
That wasn’t a name he had thought too much on in a very long time…until the week before when Wes had been so assertive and pushed his way into conversation with him, not realizing who he was. And Art hadn’t recognized him until the nurse’s announcement of his name, which had made Art aware of why this presumable stranger seemed so familiar tohim.
Art wheeled his cart toward them to offer a friendly hello, eager to catch up with Justin, whom he’d seen around plenty in Winebourne, theirhometown.
As Art approached, Justin looked toward him but clearly didn’t recognize him at first, so Art said, “Well, Mr.Brenner.”
Both Wes and Justin turned to him at the same time, Wes’s brow pulling together as Justin erupted with, “Mr. Cromley? Oh, God, it’s been awhile.”
“Yes, it has,” Art replied as Justin stepped around the cart and shook hishand.
Wes glanced between them as though he was still trying to sort out Art’s identity, but Art wasn’t surprised that Wes didn’t recognize him, and decided to put him out of his misery. “You likely don’t remember me, Wes,but—”
“Art Cromley?” Wes asked, which made Art’s jawdrop.
“Yes…I can’t believe you knew that. I would have sworn after our run-in lastweek.”
“Wait. You saw each other last week?” Justinasked.
“Yes,” Art replied. “I was in for a checkup, and we were in the phlebotomy lab together. I didn’t recognize your grandfather until they called him so they could draw blood, but I assumed I would see him aroundagain.”
Wes watched Art’s mouth as he spoke and then his gaze lifted to Art’seyes.
Art wondered what he was thinking…what he could possibly have in his head about Art after all these years. Surely, just as he heard all the gossip about Wes over the years, the same happened the other wayaround.
“Sorry again for not saying anything the other day,” Art iterated. “I was surprised it was really you. I heard you were moving down here, but it’s been so long, I couldn’t have known it wasyou.”
“Have I changed that much?” Wes asked. “I guess I have. I didn’t recognize you, but now that I’m seeing you again, you haven’t changed as much as you mightthink.”
He continued studying Art’s face in a way that caught Art off guard. He felt that most people avoided looking at him. Lord forbid anyone look too close and catch him in all his faults…all the changes that had aged him so much since the last time Wes would have seen him. He wasn’t a sixteen-year-old kid anymore. He hardly enjoyed looking at himself in the mirror these days, at the man he no longerrecognized.
Although he hadn’t recognized Wes at first, he couldn’t have said the same thing about him because those eyes and that smile and that assertive demeanor were all too familiar. Wes was still the same six-foot tower of a man he was back in the day, with a head full of thick hair. He wore a shirt that fit him well enough that Art could tell his figure hadn’t betrayed him all those years later. Age had been as generous to him as youth hadbeen.
“Did you know that Mr. Cromley was my junior English teacher at Regan Heights?” Justin askedWes.
“Yes, I’d heardthat.”
“No matter how much that town’s grown, word seems to always find its way of getting around,” Artnoted.
“It certainlydoes.”
The comment assured Art that Wes was more than aware of the local gossip about himself, and surely that the same had reached Art’sears.
“Anyway, I don’t want to bother you two anymore. I’m sure you want to get your shopping done,” Art said. “I just came for a Band-Aid.”
“Judging by your cart, you needed more than a Band-Aid,” Justin said with asmile.
“Oh,that,” Art said. “Yes, well, I guess I sort of became the errand mule for myfriends.”
“Did you need any help?” Wesasked.
“No, thank you, though. I’ll just grab my Band-Aids and head back. I hear you’ll be a housie. I’m over in the tower—acheapie.”
Wes’s thick brows pulled together. “I’m ahousie?”
“Yes, it’s a little derogatory term we use for the rich folks,” Art said with a wink. “Don’t worry, I can debrief you on our little world heresometime.”
“I’d likethat.”
“You guys should exchange numbers,” Justin chimedin.
Art turned to him, and he couldn’t read his motives any better than when he’d tried to ascertain whether or not Justin and his best friend were swapping notes during his class back in theday.
“Oh, yes. That’s a good idea,” Art said, pulling out hisphone.
He took down Wes’s number, and when he was finished, Wes said, eyeing Art’s cart, “I guess you’d better get back to that Band-Aid.”
Art laughed, feeling blood rushing to his face as he blushed. “Apparently, this Band-Aid is going to be keeping me busy for theafternoon.”
