Page 49 of While the Sun Shines

“No, I just mean—are you two really going to stop being friends over this? All these years, you’re just going to what, pull up stakes?”

“I’m telling you, I fucked everything up, I—”

“So go apologize,” Cooper says. “I mean, it’s either that, or the way you’re talking, you’re about to tie your sheets together and shimmy out your window in the dead of night, never to be seen again.”

“Maybe I’ll just run off to Oregon.”

“Oh, low blow, my man.”

“Sorry,” Drew mutters. He rubs his hand over his face. No, he doesn’t need to drag up the mess between Cooper and Whit before they’d sorted things out. “That was—I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, fuck you,” Cooper says, but he tousles Drew’s hair. “Now go apologize to Penny too.”

“I can’t. I couldn’t even look at her right now.”

“Then take a breather first. Take today off, all right? Don’t you have that thing with your family? Go buy some shear bolts, hang out with the esteemed Julie, and get off the farm, okay?”

“I can’t.” Drew frowns. “Of course I can’t. I have the cheese and all that work in Whit’s room.”

“It’s pouring rain. Whit and I can’t get anything done on the farm today. We’ll do the cheese.” Cooper pokes him right in the ribs. “Whit even knows how, and I promise I’ll be good and listen to him. And I won’t eat Brad’s entire order either. Besides, Abelardo’s in Whit’s room right now painting the ceiling because he’s excruciatingly perfect. Now, we all love you, so go take care of yourself, okay?”

“Coop, I can’t. I have the farm. It’s my responsibility, it’s—”

“A perfect way to avoid Penny.” Cooper laughs a little and pokes Drew again. “I can’t believe you kissed her.”

Drew elbows him in the stomach. “Get out.”

“How was it? Bad, clearly. Tough break, my dude.”

“Out, Coop.”

“Details. I want them.”

“Bye.”

“Please, give me something.”

But Drew finally pushes himself upright and shoves at Cooper, who just rolls away, laughing, and Drew can hear his chuckles all the way down the hall.

He sits on the edge of his bed, scrubbing his fingers into his eyes. Rain taps against the window and he stares blankly at the smear of it against the glass. A day off? No. But buying shear bolts—yeah, he could do that. Maybe get himself a bite to eat in town. Not have to suffer through coffee and breakfast here, waiting for Penny to come into the kitchen and—

His stomach clenches.

And what, talk to each other? Watch her carefully avoid him?

Already, he can imagine her tight, polite smile. The coolness in how she’d skirt the far side of the table to keep it between them.

Quickly, Drew stands up and pulls on a pair of pants. A clean shirt, socks, phone, wallet—he slips out of the house as quietly as he can, making it into his Jeep and off, down the dirt driveway with his head ducked.

He breathes again when his tires hit pavement, and the farm disappears from his rear-view mirror. Yeah, okay, this is better. Out here in the tree-lined streets, the forest uncaring of the mess of his life, his Jeep splashing through puddles as his wipers whip rain from his windshield.

He pulls into the parking lot of the bakery that’s between the farm and the hardware store, with its cheerful sign fashioned like a cupcake and bright lights shining against the gloom of the morning.

The good donuts, Penny always says whenever they mention this place. Hadn’t they once planned that they’d someday conduct a donut tour of the greater Albany area? Create a definitive ranking?

“A bagel,” he orders when he gets to the counter.

He can’t even look at the donuts. They never got around to doing that. And they might not now. Not ever.