When You Least Expect It

01

L O N G I N G

Chapter 01

In that September, a tantalizing sense of anticipation hung in the air, carried by the dry, crisp breeze that tousled the golden leaves overhead.

The fall breeze gently caressed my exposed legs as I strolled through our overgrown yard, desperately longing for a trim. I grabbed my rusty bike that was lying on the ground and peddled away. 

Mr Jenkins, my next door neighbour, raised his hand in greeting. He stood by the mailbox and enjoyed a cigar. "Afternoon," he said to me.

From behind the window, his wife stared at me. She always sat there and watched people like she had nothing better to do.

Good old Belle Haven.

Belle Haven is a town steeped in nostalgia, appearing frozen in time. The quaint houses lining its streets carry stories of the past, and the faded storefronts reflect the town's struggle against the relentless march of progress.

"Afternoon," I said, and then sped away. Mr Jenkins had the ability to talk for hours on end. Most our interactions involve him discussing the Vietnam War. But that was only when I'm bored, in need of a laugh, or my friends are busy.

Most of the time, it's a mixture of all of the above. 

"Oh, Maxine! Is that you?"

"Just Max," I insisted. My bike came to a screeching halt in front of Mrs Thompson's house. It was the only double story house in our neighbourhood — and of course her daughter can't seem to stop mentioning that in school. And all those damn vacations daddy dearest takes her to.

    Good for her, though. What I would do to escape this town and the insipidity of it. It's basically a breeding ground for rednecks and incest.

 Kathy practically shoved a piping-hot plate in my direction. "Try this, Max. It's my legendary casserole. Frank can't get enough when he swings by, so I figured I'd leave him a little surprise. There you go."

I accepted the plate, giving it a skeptical once-over. Her mentioning my dad's appreciation seemed odd; he rarely set foot in their place. "Thanks, Kathy. I'll make sure it finds its way to Dad's dinner table." 

Her eyes twinkled with delight. Leaning in, she lowered her voice, "I know things haven't been easy since the divorce. Your poor father has a lot on his plate."

My parents split up a year ago, but in this town, news travels fast. Once your secret is out, you're practically sentenced. The only escape is moving away when you're older, which often sparks intergenerational conflict. 

A small town appears to be quiet, but there are many sentiments and emotions bubbling under the surface.

"Thank you, Kathy," I said, swallowing down whatever indignation I felt. She was just trying to be nice, in her own way. It always came off as a little condescending. "Just drop it on the counter if you go in. Miles is probably around somewhere."

Kathy immediately spun on her heels, heading in the direction of my house. I chuckled to myself; my brother was in for a treat. No one could stand Kathy quite like Miles. I couldn't resist a laugh as I cycled away.