THE DAYS THAT STARTED TO FEEL LIKE HOME
Chapter 8
Sunday morning was quieter.
Ethan woke late.
8:17.
He stared at the clock.
Then smiled.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept that late without feeling guilty.
He made coffee.
Opened the window.
The ocean sounded distant.
A bicycle passed below.
Someone called to someone else.
A dog barked.
The town was waking.
Ethan stood by the window with his coffee.
He thought about the past few months.
The mayor’s son.
The stranger he had once been.
The brother he had never known existed.
The journey to Greyhaven.
The job.
The girl who had stayed for one summer.
The festival.
The storm.
The Harbor Games.
It seemed strange that so much had happened.
And yet his life now felt quiet.
He liked that.
Perhaps more than he had expected.
His phone rang.
Walter.
Ethan answered.
“Yeah?”
“You busy?”
“No.”
“Good.”
A pause.
“I need help.”
Ethan smiled.
“What’s broken?”
“Not my truck.”
“That’s new.”
“My roof.”
Ethan looked out the window.
“Again?”
“Don’t ask.”
Ethan laughed.
“Give me twenty minutes.”
