Prodigal by A M Arthur

Author:A M Arthur [Coreen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

He offered to take Jesse home first, but Jesse insisted he’d be fine waiting in the car. So Ethan drove back into Kingston, then hung a left past the church, heading for the Collins estate. One of the oldest houses in town, it was reminiscent of an old plantation home with white columns, a wrap-around porch, and large, airy rooms. Once a private residence, it had become a kind of retirement home for the elderly or infirm run by the three Collins heirs and their extended families.

Kingston took care of their own—always had.

Orry Wilde had been accepted into their care when Ethan left, and it had been an uneasy parting. Orry’s mental health had deteriorated rapidly after Ethan’s mother died, and for those last four years, Orry had become a shell of his former, gregarious self. He rarely spoke, except to spout profanities, and he seemed to live permanently in a time and place before the incident in the woods. He had no longer accepted the teenage Ethan as his son; his son was still nine years old and innocent.

Clarice had said his father didn’t talk about him anymore, and it hurt a little without really surprising him. As far as anyone in Denver knew, both of Ethan’s parents were dead.

Ethan parked in the circular driveway beneath the shade of a massive elm tree. He rolled down the windows for Jesse and Brutus, then left the keys in the ignition in case they got too hot and needed the air conditioning. Jesse didn’t speak or ask questions—just watched Ethan prepare to see the ghost of a man who’d once been the world to him.

A thin, white-haired woman met him on the sprawling porch, her hands tucked loosely inside of a frilly pink apron. “Can I help you, son?”

“My name’s Ethan Wilde. Is Orry Wilde able to receive visitors today?”

Her gray eyes went wide, and then were tempered by a warm smile. “Of course, dear. He’s in the parlor right now. Give me one moment, then I’ll come back and get you.”

“Thank you.”

She bustled inside through a screen door. He studied the house, and its carefully repaired porch, its fresh coat of paint, every window thrown open to allow for air flow. He almost felt comfortable standing there, on the edge of splendor, close without actually touching it. Remnants of another time period and another way of life.

Her footsteps preceded her, and then Ethan was inside the grand entry hall, struck as he was the first time by its charm and sparkling cleanliness. The interior smelled like fresh roses and lemon cleaner and wood polish. None of the rotting odors he always associated with care facilities and nursing homes. No, the citizens of Kingston wouldn’t have put up with that for their aging relatives.

“My name’s Regina Collins,” the woman said as she led the way. “You’ve grown into a handsome young man, Ethan.”

“Thank you, Ms. Collins.” He didn’t recall her from his first and only other visit here, but she must remember him.

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