Chapter 15

Matthew returned home Saturday morning from the hospital with instructions to rest. He’d have to wait a few days before returning to school, but Alex needed to get back for classes Monday. To that end, Tom had agreed to drive him back to Iowa City later on Sunday.

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

Sunday dawned crisp and bright on the farm, snow gleaming beneath a pale winter sun. Looking much more like himself, Matthew sat at the kitchen table with Alex and his family, gathered for one more breakfast before the holiday weekend was finished.

The spread was more elaborate than usual—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 everything 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. 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 for him to go—finals were looming in three weeks, and he had class in the morning—but leaving Matthew, especially after the accident, 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,” he said. “I reckon the highways will 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 the dorm for me.”

Tom overheard this on his way to 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 worked.

Puzzled by the request, Alex set his backpack down and followed Matthew upstairs to his room. Once inside, Matthew turned around to face him and closed the door behind them. He reached out, looped both arms around his shoulders, 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.

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 for a few days,” he said softly. “But I’m seriously gonna miss you. Thanks for coming home with me, Alex.”

Before he could react, Matthew leaned in and kissed him 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.

“Wha—?”

A shy crooked grin spread across Matthew’s face.

“You better get going before Dad leaves without you.”

Without another word, he slipped around Alex, opened the bedroom door, and bounded down the stairs to the kitchen below.

*

Alex remained frozen for a moment, mouth open and eyes wide. 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 down and retrieved his backpack.

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.

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

Ellen laughed softly, pulling him into a quick hug. “You’re welcome here anytime, hon. 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 an amused look. “You call me if he starts climbing any more ladders.”

Matthew grinned and waggled his eyebrows at Alex. “See you in a few days, bro. 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 radio 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, air sharp and clean. He felt light as a feather as he proceeded down the steps to the waiting truck.

After climbing into the passenger seat and closing the door, he settled in, feeling the warmth of the heater envelope him. Ellen waved from the porch, her figure small against the farmhouse, as Tom put the truck into gear.

They both waved back as they eased down the driveway, tires crunching over packed snow, and turned onto the open road, bound for Iowa City.

*

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. Frost rimmed 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 proverbial “salt of the earth” type.

His mind flashed to Matthew’s words in the bedroom just moments ago—and the quick, surprise kiss that followed. He could still feel it on his cheek. But sitting here with Matthew’s dad, he became increasingly uneasy. What in the world should he say?

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 and 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 in The Wizard of Oz.”

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

The conversation drifted to lighter topics, Tom mentioning 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 creeping into his voice.

“I want to thank you, Alex,” he said, glancing over. “For what you did for Matthew—your quick thinking, getting help so fast.”

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—that’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 the 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.

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 down to the farm, Alex. It was good to meet you. Ellen and I enjoyed having you stay with us. You come back again to visit anytime.”

He paused, gave Alex a smile and said, “And like Ellen said, keep an eye on Matthew for us, will you? He needs a good friend like you.”

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

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 rumble down the street, disappearing around a corner in the distance.

He ran his fingertips over his cheek, recalling Matthew’s kiss as Tom’s words echoed in his mind.

He needs a good friend like you.