CHAPTER SIX

Nick and Chris were next in line to order. Dark wet patches covered their sweatshirts as soaked strands clung to Nick's forehead. He looked miserable.

"I am hungry and I am wet," he grumbled.

I covered my mouth, trying not to laugh. His eyes narrowed.

"It's only water," Chris mocked, shaking out his hair, sending droplets onto Nick's irritated face. I'd never seen the look someone had right before they murdered somebody, but I was willing to bet it wasn't too far off from the one plastered across Nick's face.

He raised his hand in a fist.

"We're in public!" Matt warned, his eyebrows shooting up.

Chris wagged his finger at Nick, antagonizing him.

"You are so lucky I hate causing a scene, Christopher." He flinched at Chris before turning back to face the order counter.

Chris winked at me.

A middle-aged man with clipped sandy hair beckoned us forward. His once white apron, yellowed from mustard stains, bore a name tag that read 'Terry.'

"What can I get for you?" he asked politely, his folksy, Northwestern accent peeking through.

The older locals seemed to talk with a thickness in their voice like certain words got caught in the back of their throat. It still made my brain tickle every time I heard the slight click.

Chris didn't wait for anyone else. "Can I please have a BLT on white, light mayo."

Terry scribbled away on his order pad, reciting Chris's words back to him. "BLT on white, light mayo." The 'i' in light came out more as an 'oy,' sounding like 'loyt.'

I smiled.

Nick and Matt ordered next, leaving me to decide what I wanted. I pretended to look over the laminated menu sitting on the counter top. I was a creature of habit, and also a picky eater, but no one needed to know that.

"Could I please have a turkey sandwich on sourdough with lettuce and provolone?"

"That's it?" Chris gaped.

I clicked my tongue at him. "Stop talking."

Nick and Matt let out a snort. Chris's mouth hung open in mock offense, a playful glint in his eyes. I teasingly batted my lashes.

Terry finished ringing up our order. "That'll be $43.27."

Matt reached for his wallet. "I like how you just assume we're paying," he teased, looking back at me.

"One of us works in a bookstore and one of us makes the average American's salary by posting one video. So, yes, you're paying for my $10 sandwich." I propped my hand on my hip.

"I knew she was only hanging out with us for our money," Nick joked, and I whipped my head towards him, eyes wide. He wiggled his eyebrows at me. "That's for your comment earlier."

He winked dramatically before stepping away from the order counter. I deserved that one.

The four of us found a free table by one of the windows facing the street. Finally, the sun had come out from behind the clouds. Bright rays shone across the wet sidewalks and sides of buildings, their windows shimmering.

Families of all different kinds trailed in and out of Barney's, down the streets, and into open shops. A young British couple chatted over their meals behind us. The woman was talking about how cozy Woodbury was and how she didn't ever want to leave. Her sweet, English accent sounded dreamy.

I'd always wanted to visit England. See Big Ben, catch a train from King's Cross. Take cheesy pictures in front of Buckingham Palace while the guards manned their posts in fiery red coats and tall bearskin caps.

Before leaving Modesto for good, the farthest I'd been from home was San Francisco for my senior trip. We'd wandered through the different districts and took a ride around the bay on one of those Blue & Gold fleets. I'd spent most of the day stressing about graduation and what would come after, considering college wasn't on the table. That morning, my mom had told me that it was inevitable - I was destined to be stuck in a dying town just like she had.

"People like us don't just get to get up and leave," she snapped. Her face was stone cold. "But, who knows, maybe you're more like your father than I think."

The memory left a sour taste in my mouth.

Matt tapped the table, pulling me back into my body. "Sorry. What'd you say?"

He gestured to the red plastic basket in front of me. "Are you going to eat or should I ask for a refund on my ten bucks?" There was a smirk playing on his lips.

I bit into the sandwich. "You can't get a refund on something that's already been eaten," I said around a chunk of bread.

Chris had already finished half of his meal. He was sucking down a Pepsi. "What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

I ignored the feigned flirtiness and took another bite of my sandwich. Eventually, I'd have to tell them why I was really living in Woodbury, wouldn't I? If they planned on sticking around town for a bit longer, there'd come a point where something would slip. Might as well get it all out on the table.

Wiping the crumbs off my lips, I leaned back into the hard chair. Nick and Chris were sitting across from me and Matt, their expressions weary. I glanced at Matt who had his sandwich halfway to his mouth, waiting for me to speak.

"You know how you guys asked earlier why I was in Woodbury?"

The three of them nodded slowly.

"Well, I haven't been completely honest." The reluctant looks on their faces morphed into apprehension.

"Okayyy," Nick drew out. The same thin line I'd seen on Chris's face while we were walking down to the lake had formed between his eyebrows.

I adjusted in my seat. "I haven't lied to you," I started. "But I wasn't ready to bare all of my secrets to you either. I did end up in Woodbury by accident, but coming to New England wasn't a coincidence."

I had their full attention. Matt's hands fell back to the table, his sandwich falling apart in the basket. Chris and Nick were leaning forward, hanging onto every word.

"Chris, you asked me right before I had my breakdown," I waved my hand, "if my parents missed me. And the answer is, no. My mother hasn't so much as tried to call me and make sure I'm not lying dead in a ditch somewhere off a highway since I left in March. She has, however, posted all about how terrible of a daughter I am on her Facebook, warranting dozens of sympathetic replies from people in our hometown."

I shook my head disdainfully.

None of them said a word.

Was this too much? I could see the wheels turning in their heads as I continued. "Anyways, a couple of weeks ago I told Jenny that I'd found my biological father. I knew when I first left Modesto that he was somewhere in New England, but I wasn't completely sure where. Recently, he posted about one of his kids' high school graduations. I looked up the school and found out that it's in Maine."

The words came out shakily. I braced my hands on the edge of the table. Chris went to reach for them, but changed his mind.

I didn't want to start crying again in front of them. This wasn't their weight to carry. Blinking, I searched all of their faces. Any trace of apprehension had dissipated. All that was left was concern.

Water rimmed Nick's lower lashes. He reached for my hand. "Nat, I don't know what to say," he choked out.

"You don't have to say anything." I turned my gaze back to my lap. "It's not your problem."

"You're right, it's not, but that doesn't mean we can't give you our support," he said softly. His thumb tapped the top of my hand to get me to look at him. When I did, he tilted his head in a do you hear me? kind of way. I bowed my head.

"Now that you know where he is, are you planning on reaching out to him?" Chris asked.

My shoulders came up to my ears. "I haven't made up my mind."

Nick let go of my hand and turned his attention to Matt who had been sitting silently for the past few minutes. His face had paled a shade, heightening the appearance of his cheekbones and darkening the circles under his eyes, making him look similar to a Tim Burton character.

"What are you thinking, Matty?" Nick asked.

Matt's face softened at the nickname. I held my breath waiting for him to say what was playing on his mind.

He hesitated.

Whatever he was about to say made all of the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

"Do you want to meet him?" He watched my face closely, my breath going shallow.

Did I? He had a whole family of his own, a whole other family that clearly meant more to him than I ever did. But what if he left not because of me, but for me? Did he believe I would be better off without him? If he had, was mom a better person back then?

I hardly remembered my father. Only a handful of photographs existed in our house of him holding me as a baby, giving me a piggyback ride as a toddler. He left when I was two, and my mother never let me forget it.

"I don't know," I muttered, the words caught on the lump in my throat.

"You do know," he said tenderly. "What is your heart saying, not your head."

Tears welled in my eyes. I did want to meet him. I wanted him to see who I was - who I'd grown into being. I wanted him to tell me he was sorry and that he regretted ever leaving me. That it played on his conscience every single day since he left.

Anticipation was heavy between us.

"I do," I said. "I want to meet him."

Nick choked out a sob, his hand flying to his mouth. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "Ignore me."

I laughed through the tears staining my cheeks. Chris looked about ready to lose it, but he sniffed and shook his head defiantly.

Pulling the sleeve of my sweatshirt over my hand, I dabbed at my face. "What a bunch of cry babies," I joked, eliciting relieved chuckles from everyone.

Nick, Matt, and Chris all shared a look, which I was beginning to realize was their thing, before Matt nodded faintly at his brothers.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," he prefaced. I peered across the table looking for any sign of what he was about to say. "But, we could come with you. To meet your dad."

I choked on my spit. Was he being serious? As if they could read my thoughts, Nick and Chris smiled reassuringly.

Was I about to do this? Were we about to do this? I looked between the three of them incredulously. Harborough, Maine was at least nine hours from Woodbury. It'd take two days minimum, and that was if we drove nonstop and back.

"You're serious?" I prompted.

"If you want us to be," Chris responded.

Holy shit. We were about to do this.

"It's going to take us a couple of days," I warned.

"I told you," Matt said, his voice husky. "We have time."

Excitement grew in my belly. This was insane. Like you barely know these people you could end up in a suitcase insane. But, there was something in the way the triplets were looking at me that told me no matter what happened, I would be all right.

"Okay," I agreed. "We should do it. But, I have to be back by Wednesday. I promised Jenny I'd help her prep for the Harvest Festival next weekend."

Nick and Chris erupted into cheers, throwing their arms up. Matt looked satisfied, making my heart swell.

I laid my hands flat on the table. "All right, then. Let's go meet my dad."

Author note: Thanks for reading! Please don't forget to vote and leave a comment. I'd love to hear your thoughts! <3