His old neighborhood looked the same as it had six years ago. And ten. And fifteen, and twenty. Sure, some of the cars and faces were new, but the feeling was still the same.
Riley and Kenzie’s mother still lived in their childhood home. Archer and Jen’s parents owned the place next door. Granddad’s house was around the corner.
Zane parked in front of the brick-faced home he grew up in. He made his way up the driveway but bypassed the front door. This time of day, Granddad would be on the back porch, enjoying the still of the morning. Zane wouldn’t have been certain, but he heard the familiar rustle of a newspaper.
He’d stopped by a few times since he got back, but he never stayed long. He wasn’t sure why, but something held him back. Now this felt like exactly where he needed to be.
The back yard wasn’t big. None of them in the neighborhood were. There was enough space for a clothesline and a deck with a fire pit. Zane and Granddad had built the deck years ago. It only sat six inches off the ground, and despite the worn wood, the stain was fresh and the area clean.
Granddad didn't look up as Zane rounded the corner, but he did fold his newspaper and set it aside. He nodded behind him at the house. “There’s fresh coffee inside, and you know where the mugs are.” He spoke perfect English—it had been part of his KGB training—but hints of his Russian accent had slipped back in, growing stronger over the years.
“I’m all right. Thank you.” Zane settled into the empty wicker chair a few feet away. He glanced sideways at Granddad. After years of denying it, he was about to follow in Granddad’s footsteps, as predicted. At least maybe he’d age as well, too. Granddad’s hair had grayed, but it was all still there, and while the man had developed a bit of a gut, it was evident from the way he held himself he was still fit and strong.
Silence settled between them. Zane didn’t know what to say or even why he was here, but he didn’t feel pressure to fill the empty air.
“Where’s your friend?” Granddad’s quiet words shattered Zane’s attempt at banishing Riley from his thoughts.
“Gone.”
“That explains why you look as if she just died. How’d it happen?”
“What?” It took a few seconds for the statement to sink in. “She’s not dead. She’s probably helping Kenzie with last-minute wedding preparation.”
Granddad sank back in his chair. “When did you become so melodramatic?Gone. Pft.”
Zane almost smiled at the familiar jibe wrapped in sympathy. “Sorry about that.”
“How’s the cushy life treating you?”
A week ago, he would have saidgreat. Aside from the job search, it was exactly what Zane thought he wanted. Then again, a week ago, he’d been lying to himself. “I’m having trouble adjusting.” He didn’t want to go into details; it had been hard enough recounting it to Riley. Besides, he knew it wasn’t expected, and that even though Granddad never talked about it, he’d done worse as KGB. Maybe that was why Zane was here—to find a basis of comparison. That answer felt too easy, though. Despite his granddad’s past, Zane had nothing but respect for the man. He wasn’t here to compare sins, to make his feel less severe.
“You’ll get there.” Granddad took a long drink of coffee.
“I’m wondering if I want to.”
“Give it time.”
“No. You were right about me. I’m not a good person. Time doesn’t change that.” Was he seeking some form of absolution? Validation? Zane still didn’t know. “I have an offer with the CIA...”
“I never should have raised you to be a fucking patriot.” For the first time that morning, more than hints of emotion filled the man’s words. It sounded like disgust mixed with pity. “I thought it would help you fit in, not be stupid.”
Zane was glad he hadn’t gotten any coffee, because he’d have choked on it. “Excuse me?”
Granddad finally faced him, the lines on his face looking more distinct and drawn than normal. “I never should have told you the things I did the day you left. I was an old man, sending his boy off to fight for a country I wasn’t sure I believed in.” It wasn’t disgust in his tone, Zane realized. It was regret. “I didn’t want to see it break you, so I told myself and you what I needed to hear, to convince me you couldn’t be broken.”
Zane’s mind spun with questions.
“I shouldn’t have done it, but I did.” Granddad turned his gaze toward the morning sky, and his voice trailed off, as if he were speaking to himself. “You’re not a bad kid. In fact, I couldn’t be more proud of you.”
“I don’t...” Zane couldn’t find a response. He was used to grudging recognition, but not this raw, bold pride.
“Did your mother ever tell you about your father?” Granddad asked.
The rapid change in subject might have been a relief and given Zane time to figure out how he felt about the confession, but he didn’t care for the new topic either. “Nothing more than that he left us.” Mom rarely even mentioned the man’s name, and Granddad always clammed up when the topic came up, so Zane learned early on not to ask.
“Yourfatherwas a random asshole your mother hooked up with one summer. Kids are kids, he got her pregnant, and they decided to stay together. I told her she could raise you without him, she insisted they were in love. I didn’t like him, and she tried to convince me it was because he’d taken my baby girl from me.”
Zane would have smiled at the bit of his past he’d never had a glimpse into before, but there was too much pain in the words.