Page 15 of A Vintage of Regret
A laugh slipped out, surprising her. She hadn’t expected to feel anything but sadness today, yet here was this small spark of joy her father’s memory had lit. "He hoarded those things. Said they were the perfect snack."
"They were cardboard."
"I know." She smiled, even as her eyes stung. "But he used to share them with me when I went hiking as a kid. He’d pack them in my little fanny pack, along with a note. I think he believed they were magic."
"I found myself buying an entire carton earlier." Bryson's smile faded slightly. "He was a good man, and he will be missed."
She swallowed, hard. "He was the only one who kept in touch when I left, even though he was mad at me for never wanting to come home to visit and even though I saw him when we took short trips together, that's something I…"
Bryson glanced over at her. "Your dad… he loved you, and he was proud of you. Don't you ever forget that."
Riley looked away, focusing on the familiar curve of the road as it led into town. "Both Grant and Erin are being pretty passive-aggressive with me. They say they’re grateful that I agreed to return, but everything’s coming out sideways. Everything feels like a dig. Of course, I've only spoken to them once since my dad died. Everything else has been in text. Erin is a little nicer about things, but God, her husband. I heard him in the background dictating what she should say to me." She shivered. "It's gross."
"Everyone calls them 'the Chaos Couple'. I don't believe your sister is very happy." Bryson exhaled. "But after what Chad did, I can still barely look at him."
"I'm not sure how I'm going to," she said quietly. "And I don't want to be at odds with my sister the entire time. Things are strained enough as it is."
"I'm always around if you need an ear."
"Thanks, but I'm sure we'll manage." She stared out the window as the highway turned into small-town roads. “So, what’s new with things in Stone Bridge? Anything exciting with the old gang? I haven’t heard from Kim, Stephanie, or Mae in forever.”
“Same, but different,” Bryson said. “I see them, but don’t spend much time with them anymore. My focus is on work and family.”
“And how are your sisters? Devon?” she asked. “My dad mentioned they’re all still single.”
“Sure are.” He chuckled. “Devon’s still playing the field, like always. And my sisters, well, their standards are pretty high. Going to take someone special to sweep them off their feet.”
Riley fiddled with a few loose strands of hair. The conversation almost felt natural. Almost.
They reached the Stone Bridge Inn just as dusk crept over the hills. Bryson pulled up in front, shifted the truck into park, and turned to face her. The light from the overhead streetlamp cut across his face, throwing shadows beneath his eyes.
"You sure you want to stay here?" he asked. "We've got space at the guesthouse. You wouldn't be imposing, and I'm worried about you here all alone. My folks and sisters would all love to see you."
She hesitated, then shook her head. "Thank you. But I'm good here, and I'm sure I'll see them all around town and at the funeral."
He didn’t push. Just like the Bryson she used to know—stubborn but respectful. Quiet but always watching. She'd loved that about him, then. Right now, she wanted to hate him for it, but she couldn't.
"I'll carry your bag in," he said, already climbing out.
She met him at the entrance, where he handed it off and lingered a moment.
"I, uh... I'm really sorry, Riley," he managed.
She met his eyes. "Me too."
Another long silence. Then she said, "I'll see you around."
He gave her a half-smile. "Call if you need anything."
She watched him drive off, the red taillights disappearing around the corner.
Then she turned, walked into the quiet lobby, and checked in with a woman who looked vaguely familiar but didn't ask questions.
It wasn't until she was upstairs, alone in her room, sitting on the edge of the bed that she let herself finally breathe.
But even that was hard.
She was back in the one place she'd sworn she'd never return.
