Free Widow Town by Joe Hart Page A

before him coming into focus. He looked up at his father who held his coffee cup below his chin, blowing away the steam, his eyes soft and beseeching.
    “I’m fine,” Ryan said, reaching for his breakfast. His stomach flipped at the thought of eating anything.
    “You look a little pale. Did you sleep okay?”
    “Yeah, great.” Ryan summoned a smile.
    His father nodded, sipped his coffee, his sandy hair catching the morning light. “You know, I was thinking it would be nice to go to the lake over in Semingford when I have a stretch off. Maybe rent a cabin there and spend a weekend like we used to. What do you think?”
    “Yeah, we should, definitely.”
    His father set his coffee down. “What’s wrong, son, you can tell me.”
    Ryan almost laughed. “Nothing, Dad, I’m fine. Maybe I am a little under the weather.”
    “Want to come into work with me, I can fit y ou in right away this morning.”
    “No , that’s fine. I’ll just rest.”
    “Okay.” His father glanced at his watch and stood, pouring the remainder of his coffee down the kitchen sink’s drain. “Gotta go, I should be done sometime early tonight unless the ER is shorthanded today, then it might be later.”
    “Sounds good.”
    “And tell your brothers that it’s their turn to clean the house today, you’ve been doing it more than your fair share.”
    “Sure, thanks , Dad.”
    “Love you,” his father called over his shoulder as he left the kitchen and disappeared through the entryway.
    Ryan listened to his father’s BMW start in a muffled hum inside the garage and then pull out, the rattle and clank of the garage door shutting again.
    “Love you too,” Ryan whispered.
    “Talking to yourself again?”
    Darrin’s voice startled him so much he spilled the half-full glass of orange juice across the table. The liquid pattered on the floor, the dripping reminding him of something else.
    “Jumpy,” Darrin said, moving to the fridge. Ryan stood and began to mop the juice up with a towel. Darrin pulled out a premade protein shake and leaned against the counter drinking straight from the bottle, his eyes on Ryan the entire time.
    “What’s going on tonight?” R yan asked, his head still down.
    Darrin finished drinking. “A little jaunt that he wants Adam and me to do while Dad’s at work.”
    “What is it?”
    “That’s our business, little brother.” Darrin gave him a long stare. “How long’s it been since you did your chores?”
    Ryan swallowed and finished wiping up the juice. “A couple days.”
    “You know he won’t let you in on everything until you’re f inished, you know that, right?”
    Ryan stood and paced to the sink where he deposited the stic ky towel. “Yeah, I know.”
    Darrin stepped closer to him, the fetid stink of morning breath mixed with sweet protein drink washing over him. “Do it tonight, while we’re gone and Dad’s at work. You don’t have it done when we get back, I can’t guarantee what he’ll tell me to do with you.”
    Ryan nodded, his eyes averted, staring out at the morning light, a mockery of hope. “I’ll do it.”
    Darrin put the drink back in the fridge and slapped Ryan on the bicep, hard. “Good. You’ll enjoy it, little brother, you’ll see.” Ryan nodded and waited until Darrin turned away and climbed the stairs out of sight before sinking down into a chair, his eyes locked on the window and the world beyond. A bird flew past, a streak of yellow. There and gone.
    The morning ached with heat when he stepped outside. Small puffs of dust kicked up beneath his feet as he transitioned from the paved drive running before their three-story house, to the packed dirt turnaround that wound to the open fields. The corn stretched toward the sun, the unnatural green of the plants enhanced by the meager rain the night before. Ryan walked past an immense storage shed where their Churner sat, the machine scheduled for a bit of maintenance before it would be rented out again to another farmer