Something resembling a snort erupted from Colton, followed by a hissed, “What?”when Henry poked him in the ribs.
“What?” Tilly stared at the group, Hank looking only seconds away from exploding into a laughing fit, Finn feeling a slight headache building above his left brow. It was like that one time outside of Yuma when he’d been trying to catch a ride on Interstate 8, and he’d gotten caught in a dust storm. His head had buzzed for hours afterward. “It’s true,” Tilly insisted. “Glenda has the same. Not the hand, the head, I mean. Well, she has the hand, too…” Looking straight at Finn, she concluded, “Yeah, you should stay, hon.” Then, looking at Hank, she patted the counter definitively. “He should stay, Hank.” As if Hank had any say in the matter. As if Finn wasn’t his own person but instead somehow Hank’s responsibility just because he stayed with him.
“Glenn and Glenda?” Finn asked, trying to fight back a grin, his eyes glued on Tilly. “There’s a couple called Glenn and Glenda?” He was just about to explode, a laugh of disbelief building inside his chest.
“Twins. The Holloways. Well, they used to be triplets, but Bob fell through the ice that winter in…” She tapped her bottom lip in thought, while counting on her fingers with her other hand. “Was it ’85? Help me out here, Hank.”
“Yeah, ’85, I think,” Hank confirmed, nodding, a fatigued expression building on his face.
“It was awful,” she sighed, her eyes turning serious. Sad. “The twins were never really the same after that. Like a part of them was missin’ or somethin’, you know?” Well, he guessed he knew how that felt, didn’t he? When you lost that part of yourself that made youyou.
“Bob?” Henry started laughing in earnest now, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, and Finn couldn’t help but join him, the younger man’s laughter too infectious. “Their brother’s name wasBob?”
“Sure was, honey pie.” Tilly nodded. “Funniest looking kid I ever saw, that’s for sure. Somethin’ not quite right with the…” She gestured at her face, like she was trying to recreate his features on her own face.
“Proportions?” Colton offered, shaking his head at his fiancé, who was breathless from laughter, tears trickling down his cheeks.
“Exactly! Thank you, hon.” She smiled fondly. “There was just always somethin’ a little off. Like the symmetry or somethin’, you know?” She looked at Finn, who could only nod in return. “Like you’d have to tilt your head when you were talkin’ to him, or you’d get all… I don’t… woozy, or somethin’. You know, like motion sickness.”
“Jesus, Til. It wasn’t that bad.” Hank shook his head.
“But why was he called Bob?” Henry snorted.
“Why, I don’t know.” Tilly looked puzzled. “Fine name, Bob. Why you askin’, hon?”
“But…” Henry continued before Colton squeezed his wrist, speaking a deep, “Leave it, sweetheart.”
“Well, as fun as this has been, we’d better head back.” Hank rose from the counter, placing a bundle of bills on the surface. “I’ll just use the restroom, okay son?” He threw Colton a quick glance.
“Yep.”
Rising from his seat, too, Finn couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt this full and sated. His stomach ached from the gallons of delicious food and from laughing so hard. It had literally been years since he’d laughed with such abandon, but Tilly was a real character. For a moment there, he’d been stunned out of hismind, his breath catching in his throat when she’d instructed Hank to make him stay. But then she’d started rambling on about the triplets, who were now twins, and he’d momentarily forgotten.
Stretching his arms above his head, he looked around the small, homely establishment. The red and white checkered tablecloths. The mismatch of old wooden tables and chairs. The red leather booths along the large windows facing the main street. Subtle country music and the occasional clanging from the kitchen acting as an ever-present background noise, like a humming fridge or birdsong in spring. Vernon poking his head out from time to time, giving his wife a fond squeeze in passing. It reminded Finn of home somehow. Of family and togetherness. And for the past hour he’d been here, he felt included. Welcome. Like he was part of something again. Something that felt bigger than himself. A community where there was a shared past, stories, and memories.
And it was the same with Hank. Everything he did or said made Finn feel included, and he didn’t quite know how to feel about that. Because it poked at something that he’d buried on the road a long time ago—the idea of belonging somewhere. Of staying instead of moving. And it uncovered his own memories. Of the people he’d left behind. Of his life in Oregon. His parents. And Cara. It was like those twins, wasn’t it? Like they were missing something. As much as he’d tried to suppress it over the past eight years, an important part of himself was missing. And being here, in Hayley’s Peak, had become a constant reminder of that. Fuck, he’d even started dreaming of Cara again, hadn’t he?
The bell over the door chimed, and a young couple with two toddlers entered, walking past a row of booths. They nodded kindly at Finn and then settled down at a table in the back.
“Thanks for the food, ma’am.” He nodded at Tilly, who was wiping the counter clean.
“My pleasure, hon. And it’s Tilly. Nice to meet you, young man.”
“Nice to meet you, too. And Vernon,” he added, before turning and heading for the door. Grabbing his parka from the hanger, his gaze landed on a couple of framed photos. He immediately recognized the view of the woods from Hank’s porch. The sun was setting behind the tops of the large fir trees, painting the sky in deep oranges and reds.Our Wild Wild Woodsit said underneath the picture frame on a small brass plate.By Eugene Hemmings.Eugene. Another photo was of a vast expanse of land; perhaps the grasslands that Hank had mentioned. The indigenous territory.Splendor in the Grass.He reached out and trailed the tips of his fingers along the four words inscribed on another brass plate.
“Always takin’ pictures, that man,” Tilly sighed next to him, a wistful edge to her voice. “No matter where he went, always that camera around his neck. Seems like it was only just yesterday and not seven years come spring.” She swallowed, wiping at her eyes.
“They’re beautiful,” Finn whispered, taking in the earthy colors and the blades of golden grass. “He died?” Despite not having known the person who’d taken such beautiful photos, Finn was struck with a deep-seated heaviness in his chest. A sadness at the strange coincidence of the name.Eugene.
“Yes. Cancer. Way too young. And poor Hank… Never really recovered from that. Although, he does seem happier these days…” She smiled thoughtfully.
“Hank?” Finn asked.
“Yes. He was Hank’s Eugene. His partner. Didn’t he tell ya?”
“No. No, he didn’t.” Because he hadn’t. He’d never mentioned the name of his partner. Even though Finn had understood the meaning of the word, he’d always found it to be so insufficient.Partner. As soon as Hank had spoken it, he’d known what itmeant. It had been written all over the face of the older guy. A world of pain dwelling in those two syllables.
“Yeah, love of Hank’s life, that beautiful man. We all loved him, of course. Such a kind soul. Never a mean word or anythin’. But to Hank, he was the risin’ sun in the mornin’ and the moon at night. Heck, never saw a guy so besotted as Hank was with his Eugene.”
