Page 68 of Back to Willow

“We’re going to look for your brother, honey. We’re going to bring him home.”

I keep silent for a bit, digesting this new information. I love my brother, and it gutted me when he disappeared but after what I seen he chose for his life, I can’t say I am thrilled. Not even by offering him help, asking him to come with me and living together here was enough. He was already far too deep.

Fuck, this is one conversation I don’t want to have.

“Hey, Ma. I have to go,” I cut her off, not even listening anymore.

“What? Why?”

“I have to go to the grocery store. If I don’t go now, I won’t be able to in the next couple of days because I’ll be doing double shifts. I’ll call soon. Tell Dad I said hi. Love you.”

As soon as she says her goodbyes, I hang up. In a flash, I put my shoes on and take the car to the supermarket.

This is the only part of caring for a house that I hate. The effort of not forgetting what I need to cook is too much, and there’s always something that’s left behind. It forces me to come back after a couple of days, and it drives me crazy.

Adulthood. We’ve got to do what we’ve got to do.

Ten minutes in, and I’m already regretting being in here. The aisles are filled with people who keep on bumping into each other or pushing them out of their way to get what they want. And man, do I hate that. Is it so hard to be polite and ask people permission or something? I mean, fucking hell.

Ugh…I’m in a mood.

Thankfully, I get what I need quickly, eager to head back home. But the sight of a familiar face freezes me on the spot.

Sure enough, right down the hall, stands Jacob fucking Hanlon. In the same fucking supermarket as I am with a kid perched on his hip. The young boy looks to be around five or six years old, and while I can’t see his face, he obviously inherited the Hanlons’ dark brown hair.

They seem deep in a heated discussion in front of the chocolate shelves with Jacob consistently shaking his head, and the kid’s arms flailing around them.

Can’t I fucking escape any of them? I moved up here for a reason, after all.

As the anger gets the best of me, I walk up to them and blurt, “Have you all moved up here or what?”

They both shut up and look at me startled. I focus on Jacob’s face, not really wanting to drag the kid more into the middle of this more than I have to. It’s enough that he’s witnessing my outburst. Just then, Jake’s face changes from shock to acknowledgement.

With a slight sway on his step, he turns to face me and answers, “As a matter of fact, no; I’m just visiting.”

“Look—”

“I still want the chocolate!” the little boy whines, interrupting us.

As our attention is brought to him, I freeze again.

Mixed feelings overtake me as I study his appearance. He is familiar—too familiar—but I can’t pinpoint the reason. Besides the hair, the kid looks nothing like his father, their skin a striking contrast. While Jacob and Willow have a paler skin tone, the kid has a golden, slightly darker tone to it as if he spent long hours out in the sun, but what strikes me the most is the eyes.

He has shiny and clear blue eyes. Very similar to mine.

Weird.

As curiosity gets the best of me, I ask, “You a father already?”

Imagining Jake married with kids was never on the top five positions of my list for possible future outcomes. Hell, it wasn’t even in the last position. If anything, I imagined I’d be married to his sister and having kids with her long before he ever did. Jake would have been the cool single uncle.

Would ours look like Jake’s kid looks like?

Fucking hell, I need to get a grip.

Looking back at the kid, he’s finally quiet, his eyes intently locked on mine, now. A shiver runs down my spine so strong I have to shake my head and look away.

Wait, I remember him!

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