“Let me make something clear to you,” he said slowly. “They are friends, and I will be spending time with them while I’m here. It’d make you look awfully foolish if you’re continuing this attack on them at the same time.”

“I forbid you to spend time with them!”

“Like I said, you lost the right to forbid me to do anything long ago. Let it go, Mom. It’s making you look bad, especially as it’s unjustified. They’ve turned their lives around, why can’t you see that. Why hold them responsible for me leaving, when we both know that was on me... and you.”

She didn’t speak again, and he hoped she had listened, but didn’t think the odds were in his favor.

Chapter 6

Dylan left the house after a tense breakfast. Charlie had wandered down dressed in a silk robe, her hair immaculate, and proceeded to make herself breakfast, something in a blender that smelled as vile as it looked.

His mother had offered her a brittle good morning, still bristling from her exchange with Dylan.

Charlie had seemed oblivious to the tension in the kitchen. Ignoring him, she’d kept her eyes on her phone checking emails and her social media accounts.

Looking at the street as he drove down it, Dylan wondered why his dysfunctional family worried him now, when he hadn’t cared about them for the last sixteen years.

Stopping at the end of the street, letting his car idle while he thought about what had brought him back, besides his father. He hadn’t needed to come, his mother had told him Dad would recover, but he had.

“Be honest with yourself, Dylan,” he said to the windshield.

Closure. He’d wanted to come here and put to bed the bad feelings he had about this place. He’d left in disgrace, but there had been times when he’d loved it here. Loved living in Ryker with all its quirks and people who knew him.

A tap on his window had him lowering it. The man standing there was tall and thin and dressed for exercise in long-sleeves and thermal tights with pale blue shorts. At his side was a large black shaggy dog, wagging his tail at Dylan.

“You okay there, sir?” Dylan asked.

“Sure, you just looked a bit lost so I thought I’d see if you need some help. Name’s Mr. Goldhirsh. I run the Ryker Roadies, and this here is Buzz. Say hello, boy.”

The dog let out a deep woof.

“Dylan Howard.” He stuck his hand out the window.

“Mary’s boy?”

“The very one,” he said, waiting for the fallout.

“You here to visit your daddy?”

“Yes, just on my way there now actually.”

“Mind if we catch a ride? I need to get over to the hospital this morning, I’m doing some rehab with the seniors.”