Bitter Truth (Hawthorne Vines #1)

When I round the corner, I scan the group of people moving through the kitchen, piling their plates high.

There are two faces I don’t recognize. These must be the year-round workers who I haven’t met before, the ones who seem to have replaced Diego and Clay.

Other than the unfamiliar faces, there’s Micah and my aunt Sarah.

I cross the room and wrap my arms around my baby brother.

“Missed you,” he grumbles into my ear.

I grip him tighter. “You, too. I didn’t think it was possible for you to get any taller.”

A small smile creeps onto Micah’s face, but it’s only there for a brief moment. “Yeah, well. I got Dad’s genes,” he replies, matter-of-factly, before turning and grabbing a plate off the counter.

Memphis and my father are nowhere to be seen, and my shoulders begin to relax just slightly at the idea that maybe the two of them are off doing something work-related and might not make it to dinner.

But when I hear the front door close, I poke my head into the hallway. My eyes widen slightly as I spot my father in the entryway, not with my brother, but with Wes. The two of them are laughing over something, and my father reaches out and pats Wes on the back a few times. They chat for another moment before their feet begin moving in my direction, so I dart into the kitchen before they see me, realizing instantly that the move did absolutely nothing as the two of them are right there, in the kitchen, just a few seconds later.

I don’t know how I should feel when I watch both of their smiles fall away at the sight of me.

Wes gives me a neutral look, the easy smile from the gas station hidden away somewhere, so I cross my arms and pin him with my own unfriendly look. I don’t know what the hell his problem is, but I sure as shit can give some attitude right back to him.

But then my eyes stray to my father, and I’m a little unnerved by the fact he looks like he could shatter the dinner plate he just picked up from the end of the island.

“We’ve got sloppy joes, a fresh garden salad, and corn bread,” Sarah announces to the room, though it seems a little redundant since most everyone has their plates or are moving through the kitchen collecting food already.

“Sorry we’re late,” my father murmurs. “Memphis told me to tell you he’d be stuck working tonight. I’m just gonna go change.”

Aunt Sarah just smiles and shakes her head. “Don’t worry about it.” She waves him off, and my father exits the kitchen in the direction of his bedroom. Then my aunt plops herself into a seat near the head of the long table that’s been a centerpiece in this kitchen for as long as I can remember.

Without looking at Wes, who is perusing the drink options in the fridge, I grab a plate and move quickly through the trays of food, then take a seat between my aunt and a woman I don’t know.

“Hi, I’m Murphy,” I say, giving her a friendly smile.

“Naomi,” she says, smiling back. “We’ve actually met before, but it was a long time ago, so I don’t expect you to remember.”

“Really?” I feel a little embarrassed. Normally, I’m so good with names and faces.

Naomi pierces a cucumber in her salad with her fork. “It was right before you left. I was helping out that summer.”

A vague image of a slightly younger Naomi claws its way out of my memory. “Oh yeah … You were part of the harvest crew.”

She nods again and then chomps into her cucumber.

“It’s good to see you again.”

Naomi swallows her bite and then gives me a grin. “You as well.”

Before I can turn and introduce myself to the guy across from Naomi, Wes drops into the seat across from me, and it feels like my words dry up. He’s intensely focused on his plate of food.

An entire five minutes goes by—I know because there’s a clock on the wall behind him—and he doesn’t look at me once.

When my father takes his seat at the head of the table, though, it distracts me from Wes. My father is no different. He seems to be intentionally ignoring me as well.

“I’d like to propose a toast.”

My body goes rigid when I hear my aunt say those words as she lifts up her glass of water.

“I’m beyond thrilled that Murphy is back home. It’s been quite a while since you left, sweetheart, and this house hasn’t felt the same without you.”