Page 22 of A Vintage of Regret
It felt like home, and that was something she hadn’t experienced in a very long time. Every country, every town, was merely a place she passed through on her way to the next one. It was as if the moment her feet connected with the earth, the itch to see something new settled against her skin. A scratchy sensation that danced around her body that she couldn’t quite satisfy.
“Well, my, my.” Elsa turned from the kitchen stove. “I heard you were back in town.” She plopped a plate of bacon on the center of the island and tugged Riley to her chest. “I’m so sorryabout your dad. I always loved listening to that man tell stories. He was the best.”
“That he was.” Riley hugged the older woman who the Boones had employed for as long as she could remember. She was more than a cook and a housekeeper. To the Boones, she was family. Or as Brea called her,the heart of the house.
Elsa cupped Riley’s face. “Sean loved to talk about you. He’d come strolling in some mornings with postcards from wherever in the world you’d landed. I feel like I’ve lived another lifetime through you.” She pinched Riley’s cheeks like she’d done so many times. “I best get going on making beds. You all enjoy your breakfast.”
“Elsa,” Walter said softly. “You don’t have to go rushing off. Eat something first.”
“Already did.” Elsa lowered her chin. “Had two cups of coffee too. But I really want to get a head start on things so I can spend some time with those grandbabies of mine before I come back.”
“You don’t have to cook dinner tonight,” Brea said. “I’m perfectly capable, so if you want the evening off, feel?—”
“I’m taking tomorrow off, so I’ll be back this afternoon.” Else set a plate of steaming waffles on the counter and disappeared up the back stairs.
“My darling children, you'd better have made your beds and cleaned up your bathrooms this morning.” Brea eased into one of the stools and waved her fork in the air. “That was the deal about living here as adults.”
“Please, Mother.” Ashley laughed. “Elsa hasn’t had to lift a finger for us in years.”
“I’m surprised she’s still working,” Riley said. “I would’ve thought she’d retired by now.”
“Because she doesn’t want to leave.” Walter laughed. “We’ve tried to let her go, but she wants to work. It gives her purpose. So, she cooks, she does a little light housework—with thecleaning service that does the heavy lifting—and maybe some grocery shopping with Mom. I think it makes Elsa feel like she’s needed, and we can afford to pay her. Besides, she’s family. She has a job here for as long as she wants it. Let’s eat.” Walter dug a fork into a waffle, set it on a plate, added some bacon, and pushed it in front of Riley. “As I recall, this was always one of your favorite meals.”
“Still is.” She lathered up the waffle with butter and syrup, making sure to hit the bacon strips with a few drops of the sticky stuff. She smiled at Walter. “Nothing beats Elsa’s cooking.” She took a bite, letting it melt in her mouth, and savored not only the flavor, but the good memories that came out of this kitchen
And there were plenty. She’d practically grown up right on the very stool she’d planted her ass. She’d come over during her elementary school days, eat this very breakfast, and watch Saturday morning cartoons with Bryson and his siblings because of the tension in her own home. Back then, she hadn’t known that her parents weren’t happy. But she’d felt it.
Then there was Grant.
And Erin.
Riley was the baby of the family, and for whatever reason, she and her siblings had never gotten along very well. Grant and Erin had always been close. They had a bond forged out of the simple fact that they were only a year apart, while Riley had been three years younger than Grant—four years younger than Erin.
Riley had been the interloper. As if those two were part of a private club and she didn’t know the secret handshake to get in.
Her mother used to tell her that if she’d stop being so bratty all the time, Grant and Erin would be nicer. Kinder. Her father told her that, given time, they’d all grow out of it. However, that had never happened—but she supposed it was because she’d left. According to her mother, she’d never given her siblings a chance to become friends as adults.
Well, they’d been trying.
But that didn’t change the fact that for her entire childhood, they’d constantly reminded her that she’d been a mistake. An accident. The one unplanned child. Looking back, it hadn’t really been their fault. That idea had been planted in their brains by their mother.
Grant and Erin were following cues, which they always took from their mom. Whenever Riley acted out, their mother would dramatically sigh, wave her hand, and make a comment about how Riley wasn’t even a surprise, but an utter shock. Once, her mom had even told her that she’d contemplated heroptions.
Her dad never once called her a mistake or even suggested he’d never wanted her in any way. He’d always… just loved her.
God, how she missed him.
“You’re still on Patagonia time?” Devon asked. If he’d sensed where her mind had wandered, she had no idea, but she was grateful to shift to a lighter conversation.
“Sort of. Time difference isn’t too horrible. But my body’s confused, and I’m pretending I’m not.” She lifted a piece of bacon and stuffed it in her mouth. It tasted like a little piece of home.
“Classic Callahan stubbornness,” Bryson teased gently.
She shot him a look, but it was half-hearted. The truth was, this felt… nice. Safer than she expected. And for a few minutes, the conversation flowed around her like a current she could drift in. Ashley updated everyone on her latest mishap with a raccoon the other morning when she’d gone to get the paper. Hasley bemoaned the awful date she’d had last week. Devon listened but constantly checked his phone. Bryson laughed easily. Riley finished her breakfast and let herself forget for one rare moment that everything inside her was cracked.
Until Walter pushed his plate aside, rested his elbows against the counter, and said, “I’ve been thinking about your dad, Riley. His passing has left an emptiness in all of us.”
The air moved slightly. Not dramatically—just subtle enough that everyone shifted their gaze toward Walter.
