A Few Tables Away: Glenhaven Book One (Glenhaven Series 1) by Deb Rotuno

Author:Deb Rotuno [Rotuno, Deb]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: RR Books
Published: 2019-12-01T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Evan

AS A LITTLE KID, I never thought to question my parents on certain things. Robyn Shaw had always been open and forthcoming with all three of us. She’d explained things, taught us things, and she’d done it all with patience and love and hugs.

Crack!

The sound of the splitting log was dull in the snowy late morning. I stood the next one up and swung again as my mind sorted through memories.

Crack!

I was trying my damnedest to remember if my father had ever hugged me—or any of us, for that matter. Other than the occasional medical issue, I was pretty sure he’d never touched us. Actually, I’d never really wanted to be anywhere near the man. I’d been perfectly content in my mother’s presence.

I swung the axe again, simply to lodge it into the stump I was using, and it landed with a thunk. The crunch of snow met my ears, and I smiled at Faith as she grabbed the logs I’d just cut.

“You don’t have to…”

She laughed. “I’m not a damsel in distress, Evan,” she countered, setting them on the back steps in their bin. When she faced me again, she pulled her wool hat down a bit. “I’m not the fairy princess in your story.” She picked up a few more logs.

Laughing, I shrugged. “Fair enough. What’s left on his damn list anyway?”

“Way too much, but I guess he wanted to keep us busy until you go home,” she stated.

The word home made me think of Dani. Pulling out my phone, I checked to see if she’d texted back. I smiled at silly pictures of her and Wes at Sunset Roast, multiple messages of her love for me, and a few stating how much she missed me. I sent one back after taking a picture of the snow-covered backyard, teasing her about her thin Floridian blood, along with the fact that I loved her and missed her more than I could explain.

I’d been back in Montana for ten days. Christmas was just a few days away. I’d kept my word to Dani about daily chats and messages, not to mention reading to each other just about every night. I’d also kept my word to my dad, taking his ridiculously long list of chores—punishments—and he’d kept his about staying out of my face. After each job was finished, I’d cross it off and move on to the next one. Faith helped most of the time, but chopping the wood was hard work and heavy, not to mention it left my hands sore and tender, even with gloves on.

“We should tackle the attic next,” Faith suggested, grimacing.

“Well, if we do that, then we might as well decorate for Christmas, don’t you think?” I asked, grabbing the axe to put it away in the now spotless garage—one of the first chores we’d done on his stupid list. “I mean, the ornaments are up there.”

“The church is selling trees,” she whispered, and I knew why she was tentative about it. Mom was buried in the cemetery across from the church.

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