Chapter 12

Sunday morning dawned crisp and bright on the farm, snow gleaming beneath a pale winter sun. Matthew had been discharged the day before from Van Buren County Hospital, with strict instructions to rest. He’d have to wait a few days before returning to school, but Alex needed to get back for classes tomorrow. To that end, Tom had agreed to drive him back to Iowa City today, and Matthew would return later once he was cleared by the doctor.

He’d been a bit tired and achy, the concussion leaving him with a dull headache and a stiffness in his back from the fall, but he was otherwise in good spirits. He spent most of Saturday napping on the couch in the living room while Alex sat quietly at his feet, rarely straying far, idly scrolling his phone.

Now this morning, looking much more like himself, he sat at the kitchen table with Alex and his family, gathered for a hearty breakfast Ellen had whipped up. The spread was more elaborate than her usual fare—pancakes, bacon, cheesy scrambled eggs, and a bowl of fresh fruit, all paired with steaming mugs of coffee and glasses of chilled orange juice.

“I’m so sorry about all of this, Alex,” Ellen said as she set a fresh stack of pancakes on the table. “Not quite the farm visit you signed up for.”

Alex smiled, shaking his head, his fork paused halfway to his mouth. “It’s really alright. I’m just glad it’s turned out okay. I’d like to come back—maybe in the spring when the weather’s warm. I bet this place is beautiful then.”

Ellen’s face lit up. “We’d love to have you,” she said, her voice warm. “Spring’s a great time—everything’s green, the pond’s perfect for fishing. You really must try to come back then.”

As the meal wound down, a feeling of reluctance settled over Alex. He knew it was time to head back to Iowa City—finals were looming in three weeks, and he couldn’t miss class—but leaving Matthew, especially after the scare, felt heavier than he’d expected. He gathered his backpack from the corner of the kitchen, stuffing in the last of his things, his movements slow, almost hesitant.

Tom stood, wiping his hands on a napkin. “Well, it’s about time we hit the road for Iowa City,” he said. “I reckon the roads should be clear enough by now.”

As Alex slung his backpack over his shoulder, Matthew spoke up. “Hey Alex, come up to my room for a minute,” he said, standing. “There’s something I want you to take back to Iowa City for me.”

Tom overheard this as he headed for the door. “Go ahead, take your time,” he said. “I’ll get the truck warmed up.”

He grabbed his keys and went out to start the pickup, leaving snowy footprints behind. Ellen and the girls began clearing plates and wiping down the table, their voices a low murmur as they cleaned up from breakfast.

Puzzled by Matthew’s request, Alex set his backpack by the stairs and followed him into his room. Matthew turned around to face him, reached over his shoulder with his right arm, and pushed the door shut with a click. He then dropped his arm onto Alex’s shoulder, looping the other over, and pulled him into a bear hug.

Alex stiffened for a moment, caught off guard, a mild protest slipping out. “Hey . . . what?” But the words died on his lips. Matthew’s body felt warm and alive against his—a feeling that Alex couldn’t resist. He hesitantly wrapped his arms around Matthew’s torso, returning the embrace. His heart was pounding, every nerve alight.

After a moment, Matthew pulled back, his arms still resting on Alex’s shoulders. He dropped his head slightly, looking straight into Alex’s eyes, his gaze steady.

“I know it’s only a few days,” he said softly. “But I’m gonna miss you something awful, Alex Kim. Thank you . . . for everything.”

Before he could react, Matthew leaned in and kissed Alex on the cheek—a brief, tender peck that sent a jolt through his entire body. Matthew dropped his arms, stepping back to release him from the embrace.

Alex stood still, staring at him, dumbfounded, his cheek tingling.

One of Matthew’s classic crooked grins spread across his face, a mischievous look in his eyes.

“You better get going before Dad leaves without you,” he said with a wink.

He slipped around him, opened the bedroom door, and marched down the stairs to the kitchen below.

*

Alex remained frozen for a moment, his heart still racing, his mind a confused jumble of emotions. He finally snapped out of it, trying to put on his best poker face, though he could still feel the heat in his cheeks. He followed Matthew downstairs and retrieved his backpack at the bottom.

In the kitchen, Ellen, Jessie, and Grace were finishing the cleanup, their chatter filling the space.

“Ready to go?” Ellen asked, wiping her hands on a dish towel, her smile warm.

“Yeah,” Alex said, sounding steadier than he felt. “Thanks again, Ellen. For everything. It’s been . . . unforgettable.”

Ellen laughed softly, pulling him into a quick hug. “You’re welcome here anytime, Alex. Take care of yourself—and keep an eye on this one for me when he gets back to school,” she said, nodding at Matthew with a knowing smile. “You call me if he gives you any trouble.”

Matthew grinned and waggled his eyebrows at Alex. “See you soon, roomie. Have a safe trip back.”

Jessie and Grace chimed in with their goodbyes, Jessie giving Alex a playful nudge. “Don’t be a stranger,” she said, while Grace offered a shy wave.

With a final goodbye, Alex adjusted his backpack, and headed for the door—slipping his boots on at the threshold before stepping out into the cold.

Tom’s pickup idled in the snowy driveway, steam pouring from the exhaust. He was already in the driver’s seat, hunched over the radio, trying to dial in a local country station he liked, muttering under his breath as the signal crackled.

In a daze, Alex paused on the porch, marveling at how bright the world seemed all of a sudden—the snow sparkling, the sky a clear blue, the air sharp and clean. His heart felt light as a feather.

He opened the passenger door and climbed into the truck, settling into the seat as the warmth of the heater enveloped him. Ellen waved from the porch, her figure small against the farmhouse, as Tom put the truck into gear.

They eased down the driveway, tires crunching over packed snow, and turned onto the open road, heading to Iowa City through the pale, cold light of an Iowa winter day.

*

The pickup rumbled along the icy highway, leaving the farm behind. Alex sat in the passenger seat, his backpack at his feet, the truck’s heater a stark contrast to the chill outside. Steam fogged the edges of the windshield, and a country song crackled from the spotty radio signal—Tom had finally found his station. His face was set with the focus of a man used to long drives.

Alex shifted in his seat, a nervous flutter in his chest, like a bird not sure where to land. Tom hadn’t struck him as a big talker over the past few days—gruff, practical—the quintessential “salt of the earth” type.

His mind flashed to Matthew’s confession in the bedroom just moments ago—and the quick, electric kiss that followed. He could still feel his lips on his cheek. But sitting here with Matthew’s dad, he felt increasingly uneasy. What in the world would he say if he knew?

Tom broke the silence first. “Gonna be a cold one,” he said, gazing out the windshield at the snow-covered fields.

Alex nodded, grateful for the neutral topic. “Yeah, it’s . . . intense. Chicago gets cold, but this feels different. Deeper, somehow.”

“Deeper’s right,” Tom said, a small chuckle escaping. “Wait till summer, though. Hot, humid—the air feels like you could cut it with a knife. And the tornados  . . . you listen for those sirens and learn to keep an eye on the sky.”

“We get those in Chicago sometimes, too,” Alex said, relaxing a bit. “Never actually seen one, though. Sounds scary.”

“They can be,” Tom agreed. “Had one come through ‘bout twelve years ago—took out half the barn roof. Matthew was just a kid then, thought it was the end of the world. Kept asking me if it flew away like Dorothy’s house.”

Alex nodded, laughing softly, picturing a younger Matthew, wide-eyed and worried. “Sounds like him.”

The conversation drifted to lighter topics, Tom steering them toward the upcoming Iowa Hawkeyes basketball season. “You follow the team at all?” he asked.

“Well, I’m more of a baseball fan,” Alex said, warming to the subject. “I grew up watching the Cubs with my brother—but I’ve been keeping up with the Hawkeyes since I got to Iowa.”

The small talk flowed easily for a while, the miles rolling by as they chatted about sports, the weather, and the quirks of rural life—frozen pipes, tractor parades, surprise deer crossings. Then Tom’s tone shifted, a note of sincerity taking over.

“I want to thank you, Alex,” he said, glancing over. “For what you did for Matthew—your quick thinking, getting help so fast. Could’ve been a lot worse if you hadn’t been there.”

He paused, his jaw tightening, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. “It’s my fault, really. I knew that damn ladder was falling apart—been meaning to fix it for ages, but I kept putting it off.”

“It was an accident,” Alex replied gently. “Matthew’s okay—that’s what matters. And he’s tough. He’ll be back to himself in no time.”

After a moment, Tom cleared his throat and changed the subject. “So, have you ever visited Korea?”

“A few times,” Alex said, grateful for the shift. “My parents took me when I was younger—Seoul mostly. I love it there, the energy, the food, the history. But I was born and raised in Chicago—it’s my home.”

“Must be nice, though, to have that connection,” Tom said, thoughtful. “Iowa’s the only place I’ve ever known.”

Alex nodded and said nothing. Tom reached down and turned the radio up a bit. He began to tap out the tempo of then songs as they played, humming along with the melodies.

*

The rest of the drive passed with only occasional bits of conversation between them, the radio filling the gaps as the miles rolled by. As they reached Iowa City, the university campus came into view, its stately buildings surrounding the gold-domed Old Capitol building—a stark contrast to the snowy fields they’d left behind.

Tom pulled into the lot near the dorm, the truck’s engine rumbling as he shifted into park.

“Here we are,” Tom said, turning to Alex. “Thanks again for coming out to the farm, Alex. It was good to meet you. Ellen and I enjoyed having you stay with us. You come back to visit anytime.”

He paused, his gruff exterior softening. He gave Alex a little wink and a smile saying, “And keep an eye on Matthew for me, will you? He needs a good friend like you.”

“I will, Mr. Hargrove. Thanks for the ride. Thanks for . . . well, everything,” Alex said.

He grabbed his backpack and stepped out into the cold, giving Tom a small wave as he pulled away. Standing in the lot, Alex watched the truck disappear into the distance. Tom’s words echoed in his mind.

“He needs a good friend like you.”

He ran his fingertips over his cheek, recalling Matthew’s kiss, and thought to himself:

“I might need a friend like him, too.”