The entire town turned out for the Roberts Steakhouse closing party. The chef had prepared everything that was left in the kitchen and put it out on steam tables so everyone could eat what they wanted for free.
There were stacks of burgers and steaks and ribs, mounds of baked potatoes and French fries, platters of spaghetti and meatballs and lasagna, overflowing bowls of corn, carrots, and peas.
There were cakes and pies and pastries, and an endless supply of coffee and tea.
My brothers tore into the food like starving savages.
It was quite a smorgasbord and everyone ate until they were about to pop.
A local country band called the Mountain View Boys provided the music. Everybody danced and sang along and had a grand old time.
The mayor spoke and made a toast to Carl and Doris; pillars of the community who would be greatly missed after they left for Florida in a few days.
I couldn’t ever remember seeing them so happy.
“Anyone sitting here?”
I looked up from my cheesecake to see Tyler standing there with a mounded plate of food in one hand and a glass of sweet tea in the other. It was the first time I’d seen him in two weeks. He nodded at the chair across the table from me. “Mind if I sit?”
“You own the place,” I said. I tried not to look at him. I stared at the table between us and took another bite.
“How have you been?” he asked.
“Fine.”
“How are the boys?”
“Fine.”
“How’s your cousin?”
I glared up at him. “Seriously? What the fuck do you care how anyone other than yourself is?”
He held up his hands and let me stew in silence for a moment.
He asked, “Can you at least tell me why you’re so mad at me?”
I peered up at him from beneath my arched eyebrows. “Really? Are you seriously that fucking clueless?”
He pushed the plate aside and leaned back in the chair with his hands spread. “I guess I am. I’d really like to know what I did that was so wrong.”
“You lied to me,” I said.
“When did I lie to you?”
“When we were walking through town. When I was taking you into all those shops and introducing you to all my friends.”
“How did I lie?”
“You didn’t tell me that you were going to tear it all down and put up a hotel.”
“That’s not lying.”
“Lying by omission is still lying in my book,” I said.
He stood silent.
“Okay, you’re right. It was fucked up. I should have been more transparent,” he said, sounding sincere. “I never meant to do anything but make you happy.”