Page 4 of A Vintage of Regret
Bryson sat back, gripping the steering wheel with both hands, and stared out at the mist curling low over the vines. Riley Callahan had left Stone Bridge for reasons no one understood, except him. Their loss had been the final straw. They’d loved each other. He didn’t care that others believed two dumb teenage kids weren’t capable of such a thing. They’d been all in. But things… and people… happened. It changed them both. It hardened her.
And nearly destroyed him.
When she left, she had no intention of ever coming back.
But Bryson had a feeling that was about to change.
The hospital waiting room felt like it hadn’t been updated since the early nineties—scratchy blue chairs, scuffed tile, and a vending machine humming just loud enough to be irritating. Bryson stood near the window, arms crossed, watching as the ambulance that had brought Sean in pulled away, empty.
Bryson scratched the center of his chest, which tightened with each beat of his heart. It had become difficult to suck in a deep breath, and he couldn’t form a coherent thought.
“Here.” Devon, Bryson’s older brother, handed him a cup of coffee.
“Thanks.” Bryson lifted the paper cup to his lips. The brew was lukewarm and tasted like cardboard. Jesus, he had shit luck with coffee today. “You didn’t have to come.”
“I wasn’t going to leave you standing in this place alone after what you just went through.” Devon leaned against the windowsill and ran his hand across his mouth. His gaze shifted past Byson and toward the double doors that led to the emergency department doors. “How ya holding up?”
Bryson stared into his coffee. “I’m numb.”
He’d known from the moment Sean hadn’t responded to CPR that he was gone. But being in this antiseptic-filled space, waiting for the doctor to confirm it, left an emptiness expanding in his chest.
“Have you heard anything from the doctors? From the family?”
“Nothing from either front.” Bryson turned and paced. He’d never been good at being patient. He paused, staring at the doors leading to the outside world. Every time someone pushed them open, he expected to see Grant, Erin, or their mother race into the room, and Bryson wasn’t mentally prepared to deal with them. He glanced at his watch and did his best to keep his emotions in check. The last thing he wanted to do was break down in front of Grant.
Bryson didn’t understand Grant and his dad’s relationship, other than knowing it was strained and had been for years. It had started before the divorce and intensified when Grant publicly scolded his father for leaving his mom, despite knowing full well that hadn’t been the case. It quieted when Grant went to college. Got better when he married his wife, Kelly and had a family. But things had gotten worse after his mother invested in Wilkerson’s Ponzi scheme.
When Bryson brought the tensions up to Sean, all he’d get in response was, “Why’d you let her leave?”
As if Bryson’d had a say in the matter.
So, he’d stopped asking.
But he did know that Sean had been hurt by his two older children when they’d been younger. How they’d taken to Elizabeth’s new husband and were angrier with Sean than her—which Bryson found strange because it had been Elizabeth who’d stepped out on the marriage.
Grant and Erin had also been upset with Riley for choosing to live with her dad, and not with them and their mom.
Bryson had never been so grateful for his family. They were all a little different, but in a normal way. They often got up in his face about things. But they also respected his privacy.
“I’m surprised I beat Grant here.”
“If he was anywhere near his mother when you called, I’m sure he had toconsoleher before heading out the door.” Devon shook his head. “She’s a piece of work.”
“True, but Grant plays into that,” Bryson said. “And often, he’s no better.”
“Did you hear he’s opening a second spa?” Devon asked. “Callahan’s Hot Springs Resort is doing quite well. Grant might be a pain in the ass, but he’s smart as hell, especially when it comes to numbers.”
“Gotta give him credit for that.” Bryson sipped the shitty, cold coffee. His stomach churned, but it wasn’t from the beverage. As the seconds ticked by, so did the pressure in his chest. He tossed the mug into the trash. A plaque with the name Robert Wilkerson burned a path across his vision. “I can’t believe that thing is still hanging.” He pointed “You’d think after everything that went down with Robert and the Ponzi scheme, the hospital would’ve removed it.”
Devon rubbed his eyes, as if to remove the sight of it from his vision. “I’m sure they’ll get around to taking it down.”
“I hope so. That man hurt a lot of people.
Another ten minutes ticked by in thick silence before Grant and Erin came stomping down the hallway, both tense and composed in their own unique, uncomfortable way.
Bryson swallowed, hard. He had no idea what to say. “They took your dad into a room. We haven’t heard anything.”
Erin let out an exasperated sigh before sitting slowly in one of the chairs, her expression filled with worry—and anger. “I told him working in those fields was going to be the death of him. When he retired, he should have stayed retired, but that stubborn old coot wouldn’t listen to me. He doesn’t listen to anyone.”
