“My father had me sit in on another board meeting.” He unraveled the tie from around his collar and tossed it inside the truck before closing the door. “I was bored out of my mind.”

“Tough life.” I quickly averted my gaze toward the sprouting tobacco fields as he walked toward me.

“No hello kiss? And where’s the welcome wagon?” Vance asked. The bag crinkled in his grasp as he waved it, playing off what he must have known would be a serious encounter after what had happened on Wednesday. He hovered nearby before finally taking a seat beside me.

We sat in silence until Vance exhaled, frustration and wariness both quite audible. That made two of us.

“Talk to me, Austin.”

I settled my gaze just past my bare feet, following the brick walk’s herringbone pattern. “Why talk now, considering you weren’t in the mood Wednesday?”

He grumbled, “You showed up unexpectedly, and I had plans and . . . I was shocked. And before I had a chance, you left. Everybody was there and I couldn’t just leave . . .”

Out the corner of my eye, I watched him rub his forehead. I wish my issues with Wednesday were so insignificant as his. I almost told him that, but then it would mean confessing what had transpired the night before that spurred my unexpected visit. Doing so would only make what I had to do next even harder. Just as I had to cut school off my list in order to manage my responsibilities, it was time to do another trimming.

Needing to get it over with, I angled toward Vance. “Look, I didn’t mean to embarrass you in front of your friends. Had I known you were having a party I’d have never gone in the first place.”

“You didn’t embarrass me.” Vance combed his fingers through his newly trimmed hair. It was way too short, too neat. I hated it just as much as our current predicament. He dropped his hand, noticing I was scowling at the new hairstyle. “I was just caught off guard, is all.”

No, that weren’t all, and I could point out how he hadn’t welcomed me or introduced me to his friends, but it really didn’t matter anymore. No. What mattered was that I had a broken father upstairs who seemed too paralyzed by some unseen sickness that he couldn’t even free himself from his own bed.

“It’s cool.” I shrugged with indifference and scooted over when he reached to wrap his arm around my shoulders.