I nod, and Bud pops the top on a bottle and sets it in front of me at the bar. "You boys sticking 'round here a while more?"
The question catches me off guard and I look at the old man blankly. He shuffles down to the other side of the bar, a wet towel in hand, wiping the edge of the bar top half-heartedly, as if it's going to do any good when it comes to this decrepit place.
The weathered sign that hangs outside Bud's Bar proclaims it "West Bend's oldest drinking establishment." That may or may not be true, but it has certainly earned its reputation as the most disreputable establishment.
This bar used to be one of our asshole father's old haunts, and there were too many times that Bud had to send for Killian and I to pour our drunk father into the bed of the old pickup and drive him home before either of us were legally allowed to drive.
The fact that Killian and I are back here, in this place with all of its shitty memories, is some kind of fucked up, I think. At least Bud isn't trying to reminisce, make small talk about the past, rose-colored memories or some bullshit. He's happy just leaving us alone.
"I don't know," I say, glancing at Killian. "Got a job up at the Mayburn orchard."
"In the bar, I mean," Bud says, giving me an odd look. "I'm heading into the back office for a bit, got some paperwork to do. If you need a refill, you know where the beer is. You boys yell if anyone else comes in."
"Sure, Bud," Killian says with a laugh that sounds more like a cough. The bar is empty except for the two of us and a regular slumped down in the dimly lit back corner, his feet propped up on another chair and his cowboy hat pulled halfway down over his forehead, shielding his eyes. I'm not sure if he's passed out or asleep or if he's a permanent fixture of the bar. He could very well be dead.
Killian and I drink in silence until I finally speak. "The job at the Mayburn orchard is a temporary thing," I say. I'm not sure why I feel the need to tell him this. "Foreman position. The fucking chick running the place is lucky she didn't burn down half her orchard."
Killian nods and takes another pull on his beer. "I knew this was a story involving a chick," he says, finally turning toward me. His expression is serious, but there's the familiar twinkle in his eyes he gets when he gives me shit, just like he always has. Killian and I are two years apart, and were always closer to each other than we were to Elias and Silas.
Silas and Elias always had some kind of weird ESP shit going on, even when they were kids, whatever the hell kind of simpatico twins inevitably seem to have. They were always on the same wavelength. Killian, on the other hand, used to give me a ration of shit nearly all the time, smacking me across the back of the head for doing something stupid, but taking up for me when kids at school acted like assholes.
Or when our father came home drunk and mean. Killian was the one who took the brunt of his rage as the oldest, always stepping in to protect us. I don't know how bad that fucked him up, but I can imagine. He never talks about it.
"It's not about a chick," I say, but the thought of Autumn makes my cock stir, and I shift uncomfortably in my seat.
"Sure it's not," Killian says, laughing. "Shit, I'm your big brother. You think I don't know how you lose your damn mind over *? There's definitely a girl involved. I'm just surprised that you're sticking around here, that's all."
"There's no * involved," I protest. "I want to find out what the hell happened with mom, that's all."
Killian shrugs. "What the fuck do you think happened with her? Pills and booze."
"Mom hardly ever drank, Killian," I say. "You know that. With how much of an alcoholic dad was? She hated the stuff. Besides, you were the one who said there was no way she killed herself.”
"People change, Luke," he says. "And maybe I’m just playing devil’s advocate. How long has it been since you've been back here? You don't know that she didn't start drinking. Who knows what the hell happened?"
"It doesn't make sense," I protest. "Anyway, why would she kill herself after the asshole died? After all that time with him, suffering living with him – she just goes and offs herself once she's free? Come on, Killian, even you know that doesn't make a lick of sense."
Killian turns toward me now, his dark eyes flashing. "You go poking around in shit like that, Luke, you may not like the answers you find to those kinds of questions."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Killian's tone pisses me off – some kind of cross between a warning and a big brotherly lecture. I'm not a kid, the way Killian seems to perpetually think of me.
Killian takes another pull on his beer and then exhales heavily. "It means that you should stop poking around in this kind of bullshit. What if you find that it really was a suicide?"