Chapter Twenty

Alex Drake stepped out of the rental car and onto the muddy driveway. He'd suggested paving the damn drive a decade ago but instead he trudged through the muck up to the trailer's front door, wiping his boots off on the rickety wooden steps that led up to the door. He banged his fist against the metal screen door but got no response, so he opened it and the wooden door behind it, then stepped inside.

The dim confines of the trailer were depressing. Trash littered the floor, the coffee table was covered in empty bottles and cans and crushed cigarette butts. Although it had been new when he'd bought it, the condition of the dwelling now gave it the air of age and misuse.

Turning to the couch and the slumped figure dozing on it, Alex sighed. It was just past noon and the old man was already passed out, a half-filled glass clutched in his sleeping hand. Alex took a seat beside him, not wanting to wake him up. But he'd come to say his piece, and he'd say it.

"Pa," he said softly, shaking the old man's arm. "Wake up."

His white-haired father muttered in his sleep, his mouth gaping open, his face covered in several days' worth of whiskers. Another shake, and the old man's gray eyes opened.

"Alexander," he croaked when he caught sight of his son. "What're you doin' here?"

"Came to visit, Pa." His voice was rough. Alex cleared his throat.

"Ain't seen you in a spell." The old man sat up, let out a few ragged coughs, then set down his drink to light a smoke. "What happened? Lose all your big city money?"

Alex frowned. What a glowing reception. He noticed the chill in the air and stood, moving over to turn on one of the space heaters arrayed beside the couch. Alex knew the trailer had an electric furnace unit and forced-air heat, but it clearly wasn't turned on. Looking around, he noticed the candles dripping wax and a few lanterns scattered around. Was the electricity turned off? He wouldn't doubt it for a moment.

Alex had set up an account for his father several years back, and each month he put in a generous sum for upkeep. Obviously that money wasn't going to pay the bills.

"No, Pa," he said after a moment, turning back to face his father. "I came to invite you to dinner."

His father hmmphed loudly, then picked up his drink and drained it. That was the only response he gave.

"You know I offered to buy you a house," Alex said when he couldn't stand the silence anymore. He hated the thought of his old man rotting in this shitty trailer. The last time he'd been down to see him, Alex had tried to convince his father to move into one of the houses in town.

Pa had refused. Alex had had a devil of a time just convincing the old bastard to move into the trailer. He hadn't wanted to leave the old shack, so Alex bought up the land around it, having it cleared and a new trailer moved in down the hill from the shack.

It had still taken weeks for his sisters to convince the old man to leave the shack and give the trailer a try. Alex had been long gone by then, back to empire building in the big city. Now he wished he'd paid a little more attention to things. At least there was time to correct his errors now.

It seems like I've got plenty of mistakes to make up for, he thought, making a mental note to have a new account set up in one of his sister's names. Someone would have to make sure the bills got paid since Pa certainly wasn't.

"Don't want no house," his father said after a long pull off his cigarette. "The trailer's good enough for me." His cold eyes studied his son. "I don't need no fancy city house."

Alex felt the corners of his mouth turn down. His father's resentment was palpable. Why he begrudged his son's success when he could be reaping the benefits was beyond Alex's understanding. But then his father had always been a mean old bastard, and it seemed that things didn't change.

They've got to change, he argued with himself. Life isn't black and white. There had to be some middle ground between the drunken mess his father represented and the calculating businessman he himself had been for over a decade. If Alex had any hope of finding that middle ground, of building a life between his country roots and his city obligations, he'd have to straighten himself out. These thoughts had prompted his visit to his father's trailer, and he wouldn't let the old bastard drive him out before he'd done what he'd set out to do.

"Forget the house. I'd like to you accompany me to a dinner this Saturday night. At the Grange Hall. It's a little celebration I've set up to say thank you to Trouble Hollow."
His father quirked an eyebrow before crushing out his cigarette butt. "Say thank ya? That don't sound like you."

A grimace covered his face before Alex could stop it. Damned if you do, damned if you don't. It seemed like changing his father's opinion of him was impossible. "Well it is me," he said, unable to hold back the heat in his voice. "And I'd like the whole family to be there. You included. There's someone I'd like you to meet."

"I don't need no damn thank ya dinner," his father spit back. "You ain't never been grateful in your miserable life. All them times you hid your money from me, that ain't gratitude for bringin' you up."

"Bringing me up? Is that what you call it?" Bitterness almost choked off the words before he could get them out. "Stealing my money to buy booze and smokes. You call that caring for your family?"

"Worthless fuckin' family anyway," his father mumbled, sloshing clear liquid into his empty glass. Alex could smell the fumes from the moonshine from where he stood. In that moment he realized the futility of his coming here.

"I'm sorry you feel that way," he said, moving toward the door. "Let me know if you change your mind."

Before the screen door slammed behind him, he heard his father mutter, "Not fuckin' likely."

His hands gripped the wheel of the rental car tightly, his face a hard mask. Another failure to add to the list, Alex thought. A list that was growing at an alarming rate. He'd hoped that time would mellow his father, that the money he put in his account each month would soften him a little, even out his temper. It hadn't worked.

When he'd come up with the plan to return to Trouble Hollow and coax Lila out here with him, he hadn't considered his family much. But stepping off the plane and driving into town, watching the familiar countryside roll by, he'd begun thinking about things in a different way. His goal was still to get Lila back, but it had grown from a simple plan of surprise seduction to an entire reordering of his life.

If his plan worked and Lila agreed to see him again, to be with him, one problem would be solved but a whole new slew would arise. They could return home and face the high society set, force them to accept them and harden themselves to the teasing behind their backs. But Alex realized that they would just be continuing to live by someone else's rules. And that didn't appeal to him anymore.

One of the things he'd liked most about Lila, besides her killer breasts and warm thighs, was the way he felt with her. The way she relaxed him, let him be himself, a self that he'd started burying in college and was only now beginning to unearth again. Being back in his old hometown brought that feeling to a head. He hadn't expected to feel so comfortable here again.

He'd been staying with his little sister, Darlene, who wasn't so little anymore. She'd returned to the Hollow after college to open a small fabric store. She was still the rambunctious little troublemaker he remembered but she also seemed settled. Happy. Content. Which was more than he could say for himself. Suddenly he wanted that contentment. Success didn't have to be measured in dollar bills.

Still, he wasn't sure what he wanted for his future, besides to share it with Lila. They could return to their lives, return to his empire building. Or he could sell off everything and live very comfortably on the interest on his earnings. But he wasn't sure either of those options would make him happy. Then what would?

Being with Lila, he answered his own question. Waking up each morning with her in my arms. Seeing those beautiful hazel eyes filled with love instead of tears. Letting her cook me delectable dinners each night, before we made love for hours in our warm bed. That was as far into his fantasy future as he'd gotten.

Maybe that's all you need for now, he thought. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. We haven't even gotten Lila back yet. Shit, we never even really had her to begin with.

Alex nodded to himself, and his grip on the wheel relaxed. First things first, win back the woman he wanted to spend forever with. With a smile he turned into his sister's driveway to continue his plotting.