The lightness and excitement of our trip into the city is gone now that we’re on our way back to Morningside Valley. Cole insists there’s nothing wrong, but the tension is clear. He holds my hand on the short flight back but keeps a safe distance between us otherwise.

Leave our beautiful small town and move into a high-rise in the city? The thought literally never crossed my mind. It was fun popping into the city for the night—the food and dancing was totally amazing—but I can’t picture myself living there full time.

And Lucy? Going to some fancy private school?

As I watch out the window of the plane, the gentle rolling hills going by beneath us, I wonder where city kids play. There’s no backyard to run wild through, no fields, no fresh air. Sure, they have museums, Cole’s right about that, but I can also take Lucy in to see artwork a couple of times a year. Best of both worlds.

No, I could never live there. I don’t tell Cole, at least not that directly. He seemed so taken aback when I said I wanted to stay in Morningside Valley.

I don’t know what the answer is. I love our town as much as he despises it. We both want to be together. So what are going to do?

We’ll figure it out, I tell myself. Love will always find a way.

But that little voice inside my head is suddenly becoming louder. More insistent.

Maybe we won’t. Maybe this is the beginning of the end…

When we land the car is waiting to carry us home—me to my little rental and Cole back to the hotel.

“How much longer will you be here working on the documentary?” I ask him.

“Shouldn’t be too much longer,” he says.

What neither of us says is that the clock is ticking on when he goes back to the city, alone, and what happens after that.

As we’re getting in the limousine I realize I never once had to carry or even think about my bag. Some ghost person was always there to get it where it needed to be. The good life definitely has its perks. I try to imagine myself as one of those people who doesn’t know the cost of a gallon of milk because it’s been years since they’ve done their own shopping.

No. I could never be like that.

Just as the car pulls away from the plane, Cole gets a text.

“Oh…fuck,” he says.

“What is it?”

Cole lets his head fall back against the headrest. “Goddamn it.”

I put my hand on his thigh and wait. Finally he says, “My father. He’s back in the hospital.”

“Oh my god,” I say. “Is he okay?”

“Did it to himself,” Cole mutters. “So much for Uncle Dan looking after him. He went on another bender and now he’s back in the hospital.” He stares out the window, his jaw clenching. “I guess I’ll head over there after we drop you off.”

“No, I’ll go with you.”

“You have to get Lucy,” he says.

“Avery will understand. So will Lucy. I’m not leaving you,” I say, and I hope he hears it as more than just in this moment.

He reaches for my hand and clasps it. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this shit,” he says. “It never ends.”

“It’s family,” I say.

* * *

As we walk down the halls in the hospital, Cole is quick, his steps hard and assured. He’s pissed. Angry with his father for ruining his own health. I believe his dad would stop drinking if he could—if only he could summon the will power, or get the proper help. But when he tries on his own, he fails…which probably makes him drink more. A terrible cycle.

Finally, we arrive in his room and I have to stifle a gasp.

Charlie Frost looks thin and frail. His skin is the color of ash. He’s hooked up to monitors, and a nurse is checking on his vitals when we enter the room. His eyes turn slowly toward us as we enter the room, and it takes a moment for the recognition of his own son to flash in his eyes.

“Hi, Mr. Frost,” I say. “How’re you feeling?”

“Well, pretty damn good now that you’re here,” he says. “And don’t you dare call me Mr. Frost. It’s Charlie. Cole, who is this pretty young thing?”

“Jessa,” he says. “You remember her, Pop. You’ve met her half a dozen times over the years.”

His father frowns. “I’d never forget a face as pretty as this. I think you got your facts mixed up.”

Cole rolls his eyes. “Sure I did,” he mutters.

I move closer to him. “It’s nice to see you,” I say, smiling. The truth is, I have met Cole’s father before, but he was usually drunk or badly hung over. Sometimes he just seemed distant, like he couldn’t be bothered.

And I haven’t seen him lately, probably not since Cole left town.

“This place is the goddamned worst,” Charlie Frost growls, as the nurse checks his IV.

Cole stays by the door as if he’s readying for a quick escape. I rest my hand on Charlie’s shoulder. It’s bony, and cool even through the thin hospital gown.

“But you know,” Charlie says, his voice scratchy, “maybe I wouldn’t mind being laid up in the hospital more often if it got me visits from pretty girls like you.”

“How’d you end up here?” I ask.

“Ah, it’s nothing. Your uncle Dan is a boring old bastard,” he tells Cole, who will not look at Charlie. “Trying to tell me what I can and can’t do in my own home. He’s lucky I let him stay there.”

“He’s there to help you,” Cole says.

“He’s being nosey,” Charlie says. “Listen,” he says to me, softening his tone. “How’s about you go out and bring me a burger from Rusty’s? The food here stinks. Bring a six pack too, and we’ll be bad together.”

He’s joking—maybe a little bit—but it’s not funny. To Cole, though, it’s the last straw.

“Listen old man,” he says, finally looking at Charlie. “You leave Jessa out of this. I shouldn’t have even brought her in to see this.” He sweeps his hand toward Charlie himself, laid out in the bed.

“Doc says I need protein,” Charlie says, not picking up on the fact that Cole is about to bust a gasket.

“And what does he say about the beer?” I ask.

“That I need to stay hydrated!” He laughs, but soon starts coughing, his face turning deep red.

“You okay?” I ask. I pour him a cup of water from the table by his bed.

“He’s fine,” Cole says. “Stop encouraging him.”

I give Charlie the water, which he only takes a sip of. He really does look terrible.

“Oh, leave her alone,” Charlie says. “She’s just trying to help.”

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Cole says, stepping forward. His eyes are on fire and his entire body is practically buzzing with intensity. “Do not talk to me about her. You leave her out of this shit. Look at you. You’re absolutely pathetic. You can’t even take care of yourself. You’re a grown man and you can’t manage to do the right thing, not even once in your life. It’s disgusting.”

“Watch it, son,” Charlie says, and I see the same fire in his eyes as Cole, but dimmer, less intense. I don’t think Charlie has the energy.

“Don’t call me son,” Cole says. “You’ve never been a father to me so you don’t get the privilege of calling me son. I had to work my whole childhood just to help you keep that rotten farm going because you’re always too drunk to handle any bit of responsibility.”

“That farm is your heritage,” Charlie says.

“Oh, please,” Cole says. “It’s an albatross hanging on anyone who’s foolish enough to take it. And if it’s so great why didn’t you work harder to keep it going? Because you love booze more than anything else in this world. More than the farm, more than me. More than you ever loved Mom.”

“Boy, if I could get out of this bed I’d smack you for that!”

“But you can’t, can you? You’re too weak to do anything but lie in that hospital bed and wait for the nurse to wipe your ass. You had so many opportunities to do the right thing, but you always chose the booze. I gave up so much just to keep your ass in that house and now this is how I’m repaid. With you choosing alcohol yet again.”

“I’ve worked damn hard my whole life,” Charlie says. “How dare you disrespect me like this.”

“You don’t deserve my respect,” Cole says.

All I want to do is escape this room but I’m basically right in the middle of this fight. It breaks my heart to see family fight with such hate. Cole chooses words that will cut the most. He’s not interested in smoothing anything over.

“I can’t even look at you,” Cole finally says. “The sight disgusts me.”

He pushes out the door of the room. Charlie and I listen to his heavy footsteps walk away, and then a heavy silence fills the room.

Cole’s father’s face is turned away from me, looking toward the door. I rest my hand on his shoulder once again.

“You okay?” I ask gently.

Charlie takes a deep breath. “He’s right. Every word.”

“He’s just frustrated,” I tell him.

“I tried. I really did. But I was a terrible father. After his momma died I just couldn’t handle it anymore. Didn’t care.”

I pull up a nearby chair and sit next to Charlie. I take his cool, weathered hand in mine.

“My son deserved a better father than me,” Charlie says.

“He’s angry,” I tell Charlie, “but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you. He’s just frustrated. He wants you to be healthy.”

“I tried,” he says quietly. “Doesn’t seem that way but I really did try.”

“I know you did,” I say. “Don’t beat yourself up so much. You did the best you could under terrible circumstances. Cole is angry, but he loves you. I know he does.”

I might be laying it on a little thick but this poor man is really suffering, and my words bring a small smile to his face. I understand how upset Cole is, but Charlie is too. Nobody wins here.

I give Charlie’s hand a little squeeze and sit with him until he falls asleep. Then I go looking for Cole.

“Hey, you,” I say, finding him outside pacing. “Are you okay?”

“Do you see what I’ve been dealing with my whole life?” he says. His eyes are blazing and he won’t stop pacing. He looks like a caged animal, ready to burst out. “He’s in the hospital and he’s still trying to get alcohol! And dragging you into it…” He rakes his hand through his hair.

“Cole, it’s okay,” I tell him. “He just—”

“No, don’t you even,” he snaps. “Do not make excuses for him. God, that’s what he wants you to do! To feel sorry for him. Poor old man, holed up in the hospital. Please. He did this to himself. He’s a fucking loser.” He kicks a metal trashcan, sending it spinning on its side.

“Cole, calm down,” I say. His anger frightens me. I’ve never seen him like this before and I’m not sure how to handle him or reel him in.

“He’s had so many chances to clean himself up. Did you know I offered to pay for rehab for him? He said no. Said he didn’t need it and besides, the farm couldn’t run without him. What a joke. He’s the one who’s run the whole thing into the ground! No, I'm done with him. If he wants to kill himself, let him. I can’t stop him. He never cared about me so why should I start caring about him?”

I want to tell him about my talk with his dad. I really believe Charlie has regrets about his life and how he treated Cole. But Cole is in no space to listen right now.

“Let’s just go home,” I tell him.

“Home. What home? Get me out of here, Jesus. Why did I come back to this shithole anyway? I must have been out of my mind.”

“Cole…” I can’t reach him. I can’t calm him down or reason with him, and he just keeps getting angrier and meaner. He knows talking bad about our hometown really cuts me. This is home. I want to say, Aren’t I your home? Aren’t Lucy and I your home, wherever we are?

“Let’s go,” he says, walking away from me. “I can’t stand being here a second longer than I have to.”

I follow him, feeling like a kid in trouble. I don’t know what I did wrong, or what I didn’t do right. I don’t know how to handle him and that frightens me.