Page 9 of Don't Fall for a Grump

4

Jackson

When Daniel asked me, on Thursday evening, if I would go to the fair with him on Friday, my initial reaction was no. When I agreed to come up here and help Dad, the plan was to stay away from the town as much as possible. The old house is far enough out of town not to have any interactions with anyone I didn’t want to see. Apart from groceries and other necessary trips, there was no need to leave the farm. I wanted to stay separate, and far away. That was the whole point of moving back to New York after everything that had happened.

Anonymity.

“Really? You won’t go? But why?” Daniel pressed. “It’ll be cool. Besides, you haven’t been to the fair in ages.”

“Likely because I don’t live here anymore, genius,” I quipped back with a smile. “Anyway, aren’t you a bit old for the fair?”

“No. It’s the best thing to do around here in the summer. And besides, you’re here now,” Daniel replied, cocking his head to one side and looking at me like I’m the younger brother and not him. “You’ve no excuses.”

I have plenty of excuses. In fact, they’re reasons, not excuses. I just don’t want to dig up all the old crap or revisit all the reasons I left in the first place. It’s bad enough that I have to be here for any length of time. Putting myself in the situation of having to come face-to-face with old ghosts was not ever on the cards.

“It’s just… I’m tired,” I lied.

Daniel first gave me a look that told me he didn’t believe me, and then went on to list all the reasons why he didn’t believe me.

“Funny, you haven’t been tired once in the last two days when you’ve been working out in dad’s old gym in the basement. You haven’t been tired when you’ve gotten up at stupid ‘o’ clock in the morning for your run.” He shook his head. “That’s just madness by the way, but let’s not get distracted by my opinions.”

“Sure,” I replied sarcastically, a smirk on my face, “because none of the rest of this stuff are your opinions at all.”

“No, they’re facts, my dear brother. Facts that tell me you’re lying. Look at you. You’re in the prime of your life—”

“How old are you?” I blurted, chuckling at his words.

“Stop changing the subject, Jackson. Come on. I haven’t seen you in ages. I want to spend some quality time with my big brother. It’ll be fun.”

We had never called each other step brothers. Dad hated the term. As far as he was concerned, we were brothers, and that was that. Ten years may be a big gap to some, but it made no difference to us. We still hung out like we were only two, maybe three, years apart. When Daniel was born, I was old enough to tend to him, and our bond has only grown stronger ever since.

He was fifteen when Lizzy, his mother, had passed away. Even though Dad had been there for him, Daniel often rang me for support, making me swear not to tell Dad. He didn’t want to upset him, or make him think that he wasn’t doing a good enough job. He knew Dad was grieving too, and he didn’t want to burden him. I never broke my promise. It’s been our secret for the last four years.

Of course, I caved. Which is why I now find myself wandering around the town fair on Friday evening, scanning the crowd to avoid anyone I don’t want to meet. Sharon Springs is a small place, but the summer fair draws people from surrounding towns and villages as well. So, there is a big crowd.

“What are we doing first? The shooting range, the fairground, or do you want a burger?” I ask.

Daniel looks like he can’t make up his mind. He always was an indecisive kid. His head flicks from the burger truck to the rifle range further across the field to the fairground rides even further away. There’s a big wheel all lit up, even though it’s not yet dark. I can see the waltzers, some big thing with arms that has carriages on the end, spinning at great speed, among a few other rides. Emanating from that direction is a whole lot of screaming. Whether it’s delight or fear, it’s hard to tell.

“Let’s do the rifle range,” he finally says.

I nearly heave a sigh of relief. Not because he’s made the decision. I’m just not keen on fairground rides, and never have been. They make me sick. Daniel doesn’t know that, because I’ve never confessed it to anyone, Daniel included. It seems a little pathetic for a man of my age and size that I can’t handle a fairground ride. But then, a man of my age and size probably ought not to be on a fairground ride in the first place. And now I sound like a snob.

We’re moving through the crowd and heading over to the rifle range, when, out of the corner of my eye, I see a familiar face. It’s not one of the ghosts that I’m trying to avoid, but nor is it someone I want to be anywhere near either. Darn it. Yesterday in the hardware store, she was determined to have a conversation. I have no idea why. I don’t know her, and I don’t want to know her. Dad’s housekeeper is a distraction; no, a temptation I cannot afford. I’m better on my own. A lesson I had to learn the hard way.

Bree is heading in our direction, though she hasn’t seen me yet. Surprising, given I’m nearly head and shoulders above everyone else here. Maybe it’s because she’s distracted, busily chattering with Sylvie Brecken.

Didn’t Daniel have a thing for her a while back?

Great. If Daniel sees Sylvie… I need to steer him in another direction. If we continue on our current trajectory, we’re definitely going to bump into them.

“Hey, how about a burger first?” I suggest, looking over to the burger truck in hope that Daniel’s attention will divert to where I’m looking.

“Are you hungry?” he asks. He looks back at me at the exact same time I glance toward Bree and Sylvie. Big mistake. Daniel turns to see what I’m looking at, and immediately dons a smile.

“Hey, there’s Bree and Sylvie.”

Yes, I know.

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