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“I knew that. I remember.” He snapped his fingers and pointed at his head, wordlessly conveying a short circuit in the machinery. “I don’t know your name, but you’re the mountain man. Am I right?”

“Yeah, that’s right. The name is Waylon, by the way.”

“Hmm. Does Reg talk about me? I’m only asking because…I don’t want him to worry. He won’t listen to me, but he likes you. Tell him not to worry so much, huh?”

“He worries because he cares.”

“Yes, I know, but…that’s not what I mean.” He closed his eyes briefly as if trying to contain frustration. “My mind is…traveling without me. Always backward. This house. I dated Jed’s older sister, Marcy. Just once or twice. I walked up to that very door, shook hands with her father, and waited here at this fireplace, nervous as a grasshopper. The walls were paneled, there were fancy green appliances in the kitchen, and family photos everywhere. It was so many years ago, but I can see it in my mind.” Clark tapped his temple. “Walter Cronkite on the television, cigarette smoke, and something sizzling on the stove. My God, I’ve been in his house maybe half a dozen times, but the memory is crystal clear. And yet…Main Street is just…confusing. Shops have changed, the signs are mixed up. And if I tell Rose, she worries and calls Reg, and he worries. I feel their worry and⁠—”

“I understand.”

“No, you don’t, but I appreciate you saying so, Mountain Man,” Clark huffed. He took a long drink of water and left the bottle on the coffee table. “I remember we looked at the deck last time I was here. I remember. Can I see it?”

“Of course.”

I opened the sliding glass door and turned on the outdoor light. The space came furnished with a rickety picnic table and a relatively new barbecue.

“Ah, yes. It’s still a piece of shit. I thought maybe you’d started without me.”

“I bought supplies, but I haven’t gotten around to it.”

Clark nodded. “We’ve got our work cut out for us. Did you get a sander?”

“I did.”

He set his hands on his hips, seeming unaffected by the cool autumn breeze. “You’re his boyfriend. That’s it.”

“No, that’s not⁠—”

“Don’t do that,” he snapped angrily. “I’m remembering this, and if you tell me it’s not true when it is…”

I held my hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. The truth is…that we’re seeing each other.”

“Seeing each other?” Clark’s brows rose to his hairline. “What the hell does that mean?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

“It means…I like your son and yes, okay, yes…maybe we’re sort of more than friends. But we’re not the kind who tells people that we’re boyfriends.”

“Are you ashamed?”

“No, no. Not at all. It’s just complicated,” I replied feebly.

“I don’t want him to be ashamed.” His voice was small now, almost inaudible.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think Reg is ashamed. He has other priorities. He’s a dad and a⁠—”

“Yes. I know all about priorities. I think I’m the one who told him to keep his in mind.” Clark chewed his bottom lip and continued. “I remember that. I remember that I said things I shouldn’t have. I don’t know what exactly, but I know it was bad.”

“Do you want to apologize?”

“I think I should.” He blinked as he turned to me. “Are the Calhouns home? We shouldn’t be here.”

The lump was the size of a softball. I swallowed around it and inclined my chin. “You’re right. Let’s get you home to Rose.”

CHAPTER 24

REG