The Way Back To Erin. Cerella Sechrist

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       CHAPTER TWO

      BURKE SURFACED FROM sleep slowly, some elusive memory chasing him toward wakefulness. He kept his eyes closed, trying to orient himself. The bed beneath him was soft, much more comfortable than the flimsy mattress he was used to on the boat.

      That’s when he remembered. He’d sold the boat, the most permanent home he’d had in the last fifteen years, because he’d planned to move in with Tessa after the wedding.

      But there had been no wedding. And he no longer had a place to call home. He was surprised to feel a twinge of disappointment at this realization. He’d never settled before in his adult life. Moving back to Findlay Roads and buying the boat had been the closest he’d come to putting down roots. He’d convinced himself that roots were overrated, and he’d done his best ever since his high school graduation to stay on the move, never lingering too long, never growing attached. Because he knew what happened when you grew attached to things.

      Tessa was proof of that.

      Why had she bailed on their wedding yesterday? He thought back on the last few weeks, leading up to their big day. She’d been distracted and perhaps a little moody, which was unusual—Tessa was one of the sweetest people he’d ever known. She was kind and encouraging, warm and welcoming. But he’d chalked it all up to stress over planning the wedding. Now he realized that she must have been having doubts, feeling the pressure of committing to him. And clearly she’d decided a lifetime as his wife was not for her.

      He felt a pang of disappointment at the thought. He could have loved Tessa for the rest of his life. He did love Tessa, he quickly amended. But now there’d be no forever for them.

      As he wallowed in this realization, he eventually began to prickle with awareness. The room around him was silent, but he sensed sunlight filtering through the windows. He had yet to open his eyes, blocking out reality for as long as he could. But he began to feel there was someone in the room with him.

      He thought of Gavin, his older brother, who had lived in this house, the same as he had, during high school. And after Burke had moved on, Gavin stayed, marrying Erin and making his home here at the inn, in between his stints of army deployment.

      For a fleeting moment, Burke wondered if maybe Gavin was here with him, if his spirit still walked the halls of the B&B. But he knew better. Wherever his brother was, it wasn’t here.

      Still unnerved by the sense that someone was in the room with him, he opened his eyes. His nephew, Kitt, sat at the end of the bed, his blue eyes intent on Burke. He smiled at the little boy. Kitt ducked his head and didn’t smile back.

      It bothered Burke. He’d only met the kid once before he’d moved back to town. Gavin’s son had been all of three years old at the time, but Burke remembered him as a round-faced, smiling child. That little boy had slight resemblance to the one before him now. This Kitt was subdued, his face already losing its cherubic roundness. He was far too serious for a six-year-old.

      Then again, Burke could relate. His and Gavin’s parents had died in the fire that had destroyed their home when Burke was ten years old. After that, he’d also lost his ability to laugh. It was Gavin who had kept him afloat, Gavin who had remained optimistic despite years of being shuffled from one family member to another. Burke had survived only because of his older brother.

      But Kitt had no older brother. The thought pained Burke, both in his grief for Gavin and sympathy for his nephew.

      “What’s up, little man?”

      Kitt shrugged and scooted farther down the bed. Burke couldn’t quite make out his nephew’s expression, both from his lowered head and because of morning shadows in the room.

      Burke didn’t press him to respond. He remembered his own childhood, the dual experience of self-inflicted isolation and the longing for someone to care.

      He glanced around the room. This had once been his bedroom, long ago. But after years of being absent, Aunt Lenora had converted it into the Galway Room. He found he liked the changes. He hadn’t had many mementos growing up. When he’d lived here, the room had been sparse, the way he preferred it. But now it had a homey, lived-in quality that made him homesick in a contradictory sort of way.

      “Is your mom around?” He didn’t know why he asked the question, other than the fact that thinking about his years in this house always led his thoughts to Erin.

      Kitt gave a half nod and wiggled off the bed. Burke thought maybe he intended to leave, but he only moved a few feet away and settled on the floor.

      Burke sat up and rubbed the pads of his fingers against his eyes, trying to focus. He sniffed the air and smelled the tantalizing aroma of coffee. At first, he thought maybe the inn was entertaining guests today, but then he remembered that Aunt Lenora had closed the B&B this weekend in order to attend the wedding without distractions.

      “Have you had breakfast yet?” Burke asked Kitt. The little boy shook his head, though he still didn’t look up.

      Burke sighed, wishing there was some way to draw his nephew out of his uncommunicative shell. Then, to his surprise, Kitt spoke up.

      “Mom’s making blueberry pancakes. She said they’re your favorite.”

      Burke was startled, not only by the sound of Kitt’s voice but also that Erin had remembered, after so many years, that blueberry pancakes were his favorite breakfast food.

      “She’s right. I love blueberry pancakes.”

      “So did my dad.”

      This soft announcement, barely whispered into the stillness, gave Burke pause. “Yeah, I had to eat fast whenever our mom made them when we were kids.”

      He hadn’t thought about that in years, family breakfasts gathered at the table. Those days had passed lifetimes ago. And to remember them brought more pain than pleasure. But he noticed that Kitt had lifted his head to watch him after this statement.

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