Page 11 of Chasing Infinity

Jordan dives into a long story explaining how he ended up marrying his now-wife, leaving out no details. It’s not surprising to hear that he and Rose initially reconnected soon after I left Willow Heights.

I could argue that one of the best and worst parts about being in a small town is that the kids I grew up with became my second family during those vital years. Given that Jordan, Caleb, myself,andRose also came from the town’s founding families, we formed a pretty tightly-knit circle right from the start.

“And there’s actually something else that I need to tell you both,” Jordan says after he’s done sharing their story. He looks between Caleb and me with a grin forming on his face. “Rose is expecting.”

“Holy shit,” I mutter, my mouth falling open. “A baby?”

“I’m gonna be an uncle!” Caleb yells, reaching over and grasping Jordan into a headlock. “This is the greatest day ever!”

“A baby,” I repeat, still digesting the news. I’m a little shell-shocked, honestly.

Hearing that he’s going to be a dad doesn’t surprise me, given that we’re all nearing thirty, but it will take some getting used to. I grew up with Jordan Coldwell, and that transition in my mind from friend todadisn’t as smooth as I’d like it to be.

“Congratulations, man!” Caleb is reeling about the announcement.

I am happy for him and Rose, but their news reminds me of where my life is at compared to everyone else. I’m still chasing my demons while my friends are settling down and getting on with their lives. An uncomfortable tightness in my stomach tells me I need to take some time once everything is said and done and figure my shit out.

But for now, I plaster on a wide grin and hold up my glass of beer. “A toast! To Jordan and Rose and the terror they’re about to unleash on Willow Heights.”

“Here, here!” Caleb joins in, and Jordan rolls his eyes but plays along, raising his glass and clinking the others.

We shoot the shit together for another hour before I manage to excuse myself, explaining my next task for the day. When I tell them I have to visit my father, I receive a series of apologies, making me laugh. They both are fully aware of exactly how he can be. Jordan and Caleb have seen the numerous masks of the esteemed mayor of Willow Heights. After another round of hugs and congratulations to Jordan, I finally leave the little bar.

Instead of driving my car across town towards my father’s office, I decide to walk. With my hands in my pockets, I stroll down the sidewalk. Thankfully the town is quiet at this hour of the day, aside from a few meandering people. My feet shuffle along the pavement as I let the memories of the years spent here fill my mind.

The place is charming. I’ll give it that.

The heart of Willow Heights exists around a pocket park that serves as the focal point for the historic downtown. In the middle of it stands a courtyard that is the destination for various season-themed festivals that occur throughout the year. The location is the home to the annual Willow Heights Easter egg hunt and trunk-or-treat at Halloween. When Christmastime rolls around, it’s ground zero for the giant Christmas tree and the light-lighting festival. That’s the annual event where the Christmas lights are flipped on, and the massive golden star is placed on top of the tree.

In addition to all the events, the park acted as a home base for Jordan, Caleb, and myself when we were still in school. I remember sitting on the old wooden bridge over the pond and watching townspeople come and go to Addison’s parents’ café. At that time, I spent most of my energy plotting ways to ruin her week. We were each other’s bane of our existence before we were ever cordial towards one another. Though my feelings for her gradually grew into something significantly different than my disdain for her initially.

Addison’s diner is on the South end of the town center, where her parents’ café used to be, along with a few other smaller storefronts that line the park’s perimeter. City Hall stands on the north end, the massive old brick building with a white shingled roof looming tall over the rest of the business district.

I walk briskly, noting the hay bales and fall-themed decorations lingering in the town center. As soon as I arrive at City Hall, I bound up the white alabaster stairs to the giant wooden doors and head towards where my father’s office is. I push open the door to the waiting area, and his secretary looks up, her eyes going wide when she sees me. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, I’d like to speak with the mayor,” I tell her, walking close until I’m standing right in front of her desk. I push my hands into my pockets as I wait for her.

“I’m sorry, he’s not doing open hours right now. I could make you an appointment for later, though,” she explains, pulling up the scheduling application on her computer.

“He’ll have time for me. My name is Noah. I’m his son,” I say, ignoring the bitter taste the words leave in my mouth.

Her eyes widen at this new information and her teeth sink into her bottom lip. She’s notably pretty, and I determine that my fathermustbe sleeping with her on the side. He’s simply the kind of person who would do something like that. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Of course, I’ll let him know you’re here.”

The secretary taps her fingers on the keyboard, clearly sending a message to my father. Her nails are long, clicking as they fly across the keys. After she hits send, she brings one thumb up to her lip and nibbles on the nail, waiting for a response.

While I wait on her, I wander around and observe all of the frames adorning the walls in the lobby. There are awards and certifications, as well as pictures highlighting my father’s endeavors as mayor. One photo specifically catches my eye. As I study it, I determine it must be from the latest meeting of the Founding Family Council. I step closer and examine the familiar faces in the picture, almost chuckling when I notice how uncomfortable everyone looks at having to be that close to each other.

Seven families founded Willow Heights: McCoy, Sullivan, Montgomery, Bradford, Lauder, Coldwell, and Abbot. Over the years, Willow Heights grew to what it is now—a quaint Vermont town with a population of just under ten thousand. Still, to this day, the founding families have a heavy presence in the infrastructure and politics, working with the elected mayor to make sure everything runs smoothly.

Though the families work together on a lot of the major decisions, they’re not always friendly with each other. That was part of the reason Eli Montgomery and I never managed to get along growing up—his father and my father weren’t the biggest fans of each other either. Sins of the father and all of that nonsense.

“You can go in. He said he’ll see you,” the secretary informs me.

“Wonderful, thank you,” I reply, turning back to her and shooting her a smile. I see her cheeks flare bright pink, and I fight the urge to roll my eyes as I walk toward the door leading into my father’s office. Yeah, he’s for sure sleeping with her.

As I walk to the door, I reach behind my head and pull my shoulder length hair into a ponytail at the nape of my neck, securing it with the green hair tie around my wrist. I always used to keep my hair cropped short, but I’ve worn it longer recently—it fits the appearance I’m trying to achieve.

My fist raps against the wood door, and from behind it, I hear, “Come in.” Pushing the door open, I’m met with the sight of my father sitting in his chair at his desk, flipping through some papers. He glances up when I walk in and gives me a tight smile as if he’s unsure how to react to my presence. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him, noted by how different he looks from the last time we were in each other’s presence.

---