The Longest Five Years (Completed)

Reagan

Present Day

"Oh my god, it's like I've traveled back in time," I squeal as I meet Erin's bright eyes. "If I could only eat one thing for the rest of my life," I point down at my waffle, "This is it."

We're sitting across from each other in our favorite booth at LeRoy's, and it's like nothing's changed. The cozy booths and log cabin décor always made me feel like I was on a retreat, and I've seen more than a few familiar faces behind the breakfast counter. Some seem surprised I'm back, like the head waitress Gretchen, who's been making me waffles since I used to request them shaped like Mickey Mouse. But others, like the owner LeRoy, just offer me a sad, knowing smile and welcome me back. That's the thing about small towns – word travels fast.

I may be well-known in Europe, but to everyone here, I'm just Reagan.

"Okay. It's 10 am, so that's like, what..." Erin glances at her watch, then up at the ceiling, silently counting. "Dinner time for you?" She takes a sip of her overly sugared coffee and smiles. I've really missed her.

"You know I can eat breakfast anytime of day," I shrug. "Only way to get used to the time change is to go cold-turkey. And lots of coffee. Vats of it,"

"Vats?" She giggles. "God, I missed you,"

I left a lot of good things here the day I walked away. Not just the stability of family or familiar streets; I left a lot of memories, too. Something as simple as sitting across from my big sister, eating waffles and laughing warms a part of me I didn't know had gone cold.

"But really, Reagan. I know I've asked a thousand times already, but how long do I get to keep you this time?" She sets her coffee mug down and pulls my hands in hers, giving me the look I've known would be coming since the moment I stepped off the plane. It's not pity; it's heartache.

"A month," I say finally, and my answer seems to surprise her almost as much as it did me when I made the decision last night. I stuff a fork full of pancakes in my mouth to avoid saying anything else, but she gives me the goofy-eyed, happy smile and waits for me to finish chewing.

A month is a really long time for me to be away. My life in Ireland is far different than the one I led here. I'm only ever in the fast lane. We used to write songs in the back of buses or trains. Now we sleep in different cities every night, put up in big, fancy hotels that I never dreamed I'd see. Being the lead singer of a folk band has it's perks, but it has it's challenges, too.

When I left here, I was a heartbroken kid. I told myself a lot of lies to make it easier, and the time since has given me back some reality. There are things I genuinely miss. Feelings. People.

"And what about Benson?" she frowns a little and bites her lip.

"I'll worry about him when I get home," I say on a sigh, and she knows exactly what I mean. If I'm being honest, this emergency trip back home will end up doing me more good than a family reunion. I could use some time away from thinking about it, too.

"The band can wait. It call all wait."

"Okay," she says slowly, genuinely surprised. That's a sentence I've never uttered. When I'm quiet, she drops it and moves onto something else.

"I know this might be awkward for you, but I promised Mom I'd pick up Emmy in an hour and keep her for the next few nights. Right now it looks like Luke will be out of the hospital by the end of the week if everything continues to go well," she pauses. "She's a really sweet little girl..."

"She's adorable," I say honestly, and surprisingly, there's no trace of bitterness in my voice. "And of course I don't mind. I'm the one who showed up out of nowhere," I remind her.