The drive out to Hope Valley is long. I leave at 7 am, saying bye to Mom whoâs due to work a double shift that day. I know she wishes she could come with me, but in a way Iâm glad to be going alone. Mom has history with this side of my family that I donât really want to get entangled in right now. I pack sweet tea and dry snacks, which is about all I can stomach, and Mom shoves a sandwich wrapped in brown paper into my bag just in case I get hungry. Crossing state lines makes my destination feel even further. I call Uncle Walter when Iâm an hour away, and we schedule to meet at a diner in town at 5 pm.
Nothing looks familiar as I drive down Main Street. Either I donât remember this place, or everythingâs changed since I was last here. Itâs busier than I imagined, and it takes me a while to find a place to park. I canât see the diner that Walter mentioned, but I stagger out of the car, taking time to stretch my cramped body, figuring Iâll find it on foot. Iâm desperate to pee and covered in crumbs, which I swipe off my t-shirt and jeans.
I wonder what Uncle Walter will think of me after all this time. Do I look like he imagines I will? Will he even recognize me? Iâm pretty sure Iâll still recognize him. I wonder if he still dresses the same in black t-shirts with skulls or rock band motifs and jeans that slot right under his round belly.
I slam my car door shut and lock it securely. Iâve got my bag in the trunk and I donât want anyone running off with so many of my worldly possessions.
As Iâm making my way to the sidewalk, a truck passes and honks the horn. A loud whistle followed by a whole lot of whooping makes me jump. Another truck follows, and it beeps its horn. I catch sight of a gorgeous man in the front, leaning half out the window. âHey, pretty girl,â he shouts, which is followed by more whoops. Before I have a chance to scowl, theyâre gone, but Iâm sure I see a few heads in the back seat turn to look at me.
An older woman gives me a wry smile. âMen are all the same,â she says. âDonât take any notice of them. They donât mean anything by it. Theyâre good boys, really.â
âYou know them?â
She nods. âThey live just outside of town. Been through a lot.â
I smile politely, but inside Iâm thinking that going through a lot shouldnât excuse catcalling strangers on the street. âIâm heading to Nolanâs Diner. Is it close?â
âSure, itâs just a little further along there.â She points in the direction the trucks went.
âOkay, thanks.â
Iâm around fifteen minutes late by the time I arrive and use the dinerâs restroom, and Uncle Walter is already here waiting patiently. I notice him right away in a corner booth, even though he has aged since I last saw him. He is wearing a black band t-shirt, and although I canât see his lower half, Iâd put good money on a bet that heâs wearing low-slung jeans. His eyes are on the menu, but as I get closer, he glances up. I see the moment of recognition. âMaggie?â he says with awe in his voice. âOh my God, you look just like your mom.â He stands and slides out of the booth, grabbing me by the shoulders so he can look me over. âI justâ¦Â where the hell does the time go?â When he tugs me into a fierce hug, I hug him back, reliving a memory of the day we left Hope Valley all those years ago.
Uncle Walter has aged, but not too badly. Heâs still the same shape, but his hair is a little thinner on top, and his laughter lines are more pronounced. When he lets me go, I take a small step back. Heâs familiar, but after so much time, this all feels strange. âHere, take a seat. You must be famished.â
We slide into the booth opposite one another, and I rest my purse on the seat next to me. âWhat do you want to drink?â Uncle Walter has an empty bottle of beer in front of him.
âJust an iced tea,â I say.
He waves at the waitress, who comes quickly to take our order. It isnât busy in the diner at this time; itâs late for lunch but early for dinner.
âWas the drive okay? I was worried about you.â
âIt was fine. Tiring but okay.â
âAnd how are you feelingâ¦Â about, you knowâ¦Â the news?â
I shake my head and shrug. âItâsâ¦Â I just donât know. I meanâ¦â Trailing off, I gaze out of the window, watching the steady stream of traffic pass us by. How many times did my dad drive down this very street? How many times did he sit in this diner? So much time has gone by, and Iâll never know enough about his life.
âItâs complicated,â Walter says. âI get that, and youâll need timeâ¦Â to processâ¦Â to deal with it all.â I reach out to grab the menu, needing something to distract me. âYouâre going to have plenty to do.â
âWith the house.â
Walter nods. âA lot changed for your father over the past nine or so yearsâ¦Â after you guys fell out.â
âWe didnât fall out as far as I was concerned,â I snap. âI got mad with him, and heâ¦Â he just never called me again.â
âHe didnât think you wanted to have anything to do with him anymore,â Walter says. âIt was hard for him, you being so far away.â
âI just did that journey in a day,â I say. âAnd Iâm only nineteen. A fully grown man should have found it easy.â
Walter shakes his head, sliding back against the cold vinyl of the booth seat. âI canât tell you what happened or why it happened. Iâm not here to try to explain the actions of a dead man. All I can do is tell you about the will and give you the note your father left for you. Youâre gonna have to come to your own conclusions about it all.â
The waitress returns with our drinks and asks for our food order. Iâm still not feeling like I can stomach anything too flavorsome, so I opt to order a bowl of fries. âOrder something more than fries,â Walter says. âThatâs not going to fill you up.â
I shake my head. âThatâs all I want right now.â
Walter orders a steak, and the waitress retreats, leaving me to face this awkward conversation. âI didnât expect him to leave me anything.â
âYouâre his only blood-related child,â Walter says. âOf course, he was going to leave you something.â I frown, wondering why Walter specified blood-related in that sentence. âHe may have made some stupid mistakes in his life, but he wasnât a bad man. There wasnât a day that went by without him carrying a picture of you in his wallet. He had this too.â Walter fishes around in the pocket of his jeans and pulls out a bunch of keys. Thereâs a cheap plastic photo keyring with a picture of me, complete with gap-teeth and uneven bangs. The sight of it hits me in the chest like a boulder. âThese are the keys to the house. This is the address.â He forages around in the other pocket, bringing out a piece of paper. âItâs just outside of town, a huge old place. Iâll take you there after weâre done here.â
âHuge? How come? Wasnât he living by himself?â
Walter shakes his head. âThatâs what I need to talk to you about. After you guys lost touch, your dad was lost. He needed to find a purposeâ¦Â he started fostering kids. They kept coming, and for whatever reason, they never left.â
âFostering?â Now there are lots of things that Walter could have said to me about my dad that I would have believed, but learning he was a foster dad, well, that just doesnât fit with what I thought I knew about him at all.
âHe was great at it. All boys. I think it filled a gap.â
âSo, whatâs happened to them now? Did they have to find them someone else to care for them?â
Walter shakes his head and smiles. âThatâs the thing. Theyâre all old enough to look after themselves, and your dad would never have put them out on the street.â
I frown, trying to make sense of what my Uncle is saying. âSo, theyâre still at the house?â
âYeah. Your dad left it to all of you.â
âTo all of us? How many of them are there?â I ask.
âThatâs where this gets interesting,â Walter says. âYou have eleven foster brothers.â
âELEVEN!â I must say that number loudly because the few other customers in the diner turn around to look at me with interest. âEleven?â I say more quietly.
âYep. Eleven.â
âAnd theyâre living at the house?â
âYep. All of them.â
I swallow, feeling my throat make a gulping sound. I shake my head, wondering at the news Iâve had to face in just a matter of days. âAnd theyâre going to stay there? They arenât staying in college accommodation.â
âNo. Theyâre finishing up college staying at home. Your dad was heavily involved with their training and, to be honest, the cost of eleven rooms when they have space here was just too much. They all play for the football team. I suppose once theyâre done, they might decide to move on. If they can, go pro and sell the place, you know.â
âBut what if I want to sell the place now?â
âDo you?â Walter asks, his eyebrows rising.
Is it not the right thing for me to be thinking? In my mind, I was imagining that my share from the house sale could finance me setting up a home near my mom. Now it seems that isnât an option.
âIâ¦Â I donât really know what I want to do. Itâs allâ¦Â well itâs all so sudden.â
Walter nods. âAlthough Iâve had a few weeks to process itâ¦Â itâs not getting any easier.â He swallows and blinks slowly, a sure sign heâs holding down his emotions just like me.
âDid you have a service, you know, a funeral?â
Walter arranges the cutlery in front of him. âHeâs buried in the town cemetery. It will be a while before we can put a headstone, but thereâs a wooden cross to mark it. I can take you there if youâd like.â
I nod, but I donât mean it. My feelings about everything are way too complicated for me to deal with immediately. Itâs going to take time. Maybe Iâll never be able to face that reality. âAnd you said something about Dad requesting that I clear out his things? Why did he say that?â
âI donât know,â Walter says. âMaybe itâs his way of being close to you again. Maybe it felt right because youâre his only blood-related child. Maybe because youâre a woman now. Weâll never know. Actuallyâ¦â Walter reaches onto the seat next to him and places an envelope onto the table in front of me. ââ¦this might explain everything. I havenât opened it. Its contents are for you.â He gazes at me expectantly, as though Iâm going to open this letter in front of him and tell him everything that it says when in reality, I donât even want to pick it up.
At that moment, the waitress appears with our food, and I slide the envelope off the table and into my open purse. Like the grave, the letter is going to remain unseen, for now at least.
We tuck in, and I ask Walter about the family. Jolene has blossomed from a scrappy toddler to a straight-A student whoâs talking about studying medicine. âSo, what do you want to do, Maggie?â Walter asks.
I could tell him about my hopes of becoming a writer. I could tell him how Iâve been acing creative writing since I was a little girl. I could tell him a whole host of things, but none of it is going to happen now. âI donât know yet. Still undecided.â
âDo you know about Danna?â
âWhat about her?â
âSheâsâ¦Â well, sheâs moved to Broadsville and shacked up with ten men.â
âShacked up? You mean, sheâs house sharing?â
Walter shakes his head, his eyes bulging. âI mean, sheâs in a relationship with ten men. Theyâre all brothersâ¦Â well, adopted brothers. They have a ranch, and Dannaâs become a proper country girl.â
âTEN!â The people at the table next to us turn their heads.
âThatâs exactly what we said. But sheâs really happy. She invited us all up there for lunchâ¦Â I donât think Iâve ever seen her looking more radiant.â
âRadiant? Ten men⦠how does that even work?â
Walterâs grinning, and I can tell heâs enjoying gossiping like an old maid. âWho knows? Thatâs not the kind of thing I want to get into with my niece. What goes on behind closed doors is none of my business. I was worried at first, you know. It sounded like she was being sucked into some kind of weird and deviant cult, but I get why they want it. All the boys live and work on the family ranch. They want to keep it all together as one family unit.â
âSo, sheâs going to have kids with all of them?â The idea fascinates me more than I would have expected. I havenât had one man who was a reliable presence in my life. What would it be like to have ten lovers who are all looking out for me? Ten brothers who are focused on making one happy family.
âI donât know if thatâll be possible, but who knows. If youâd asked me if this would have been something Danna would have done, Iâd have laughed in your face and bet my life savings against it. But there she is anyway.â
âI guess people can be full of surprises. Like Dad, taking on eleven foster kids.â
Walter nods.
We eat and chat more about general things like the changes to the town and who I might remember and bump into while Iâm here. Iâve been anticipating only staying for as long as it takes to fill a few boxes and clean the house ready for sale. Now, I have no idea what Iâm going to do.
When Walter is done and wiping his bearded face with a napkin, he tells me heâll take me over to the house. âYou can stay there tonight,â he says. âIf you want to, that is. Or you can stay with me. Youâre welcome. You know that.â
âI think Iâll stay at the house,â I say. My morning nausea might be easier to conceal if Iâm not under Walterâs roof, and I donât want to be here for longer than I have to be.
âOkay then. I guess itâs time to introduce you to your new housemates.â