The following morning, Grampa was cooking breakfast when I came downstairs. The shower had turned off in the bathroom as I had walked past it, so I knew John would be down in a minute as well. The coffee maker was chrrrring and pfffing to signal the end of its cycle and the availability of freshly-brewed coffee. Beside it was a mug of chamomile tea for me. I loved being home more than I could ever express.

"Mornin'," I called and stepped behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder and looking at the scrambled eggs in the skillet.

"Morning, Peanut."

I had thrown on a tanktop and a thick, cable-knit olive sweater over it, but was still in my blue and red plaid pajama pants, just as I liked it.

"Guess who we ran into on the street last night." I opened the cabinet and set out three plates, figuring Dad had already eaten.

"Whom."

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, Grampa. Guess into whomst we ran." When he didn't even attempt a guess, I solved the riddle. "Gabe."

Grampa blew air from his nostrils in amusement and stirred the egg. "Speaking of, your dad invited him over for later."

What was he thinking?

I shot Grampa an unimpressed glance as I threw four slices of my favorite whole grain bread into the toaster. "Why?"

"Apparently he finally wants to get rid of that armoire in the barn. You know, the one he once picked up at that garage sale and never finished fixing up. Gabe said he was interested in it for his apartment when he goes off to grad school in the fall."

"Uh-huh." I leaned against the small island counter with my arms crossed.

Footsteps and the cracking of the old, wooden stairs announced John, who joined us in the kitchen, fully dressed on his part in jeans and a gray long sleeve Panther shirt.

"Good morning!"

Grampa and I echoed his greeting. John stepped close to me and I automatically uncrossed my arms and turned toward him. He touched the waistband of my pajamas only barely and gave me a sweet peck on the cheek.

"How did you sleep?" I asked, smiling from ear to ear. I was a goner for John.

"Like a baby. Vacation from college seems to be exactly what I needed."

I knew what he meant by it.

"Alright, kids, sit. Breakfast is ready."

"Thank you so much, Sam, that smells wonderful."

"Don't mention it," Grampa dismissed, but sent John a flattered smile.

About forty minutes later, we were sipping the last of our second cups of coffee with milk (John), black coffee (Grampa) and chamomile tea (me) and were talking about our favorite outdoor activities come springtime when the door opened and Dad stepped inside, followed by Gabriel. John almost choked on his sip of coffee. I slipped my feet off the bench and down beneath the table. Suddenly I was self-conscious about being only half-properly dressed. Although, self-conscious wasn't the right word. This appearance of mine was reserved for those close to me and for the shelter of my home which hadn't included Gabriel for a long time now. He was an intruder, even if it wasn't his fault, but Dad's for inviting him.

Polite greetings were exchanged and Dad offered Gabriel a cup of coffee which he gladly accepted. I downed the last of my tea and stood.

"I'm going to get ready. I think we're going to check out the Outdoor Trading Post today or maybe drive up to Portland."

"Careful, there's roadwork on 9B this weekend," Gabriel advised. "They're trying to lead you on a detour via Sanford, don't fall for it. Do you still do that, get half-dressed in the mornings?"

I thanked him for the tip, ignoring his other comment. "Maybe we'll go next week, then."

I wasn't close to Gabe anymore and I didn't like that he kept reminding John that we once had been as close as two people could be. John wordlessly followed me upstairs where we stood beside each other in front of the sink brushing our teeth.

When he had rinsed his mouth, he looked at me through the mirror and asked: "Is Gabriel usually around this much? At your place?"

I shook my head and rinsed mine, too, before answering: "We normally have different break times except for during the summer, but he's been interning a lot. He and Dad always got along well, but I didn't realize Dad was in touch with him independently. I'm not a big fan either."

"It feels like a competition for your dad's approval," John admitted.

"It's not." I turned to face him. "First of all, this is a small town and both my family and Gabe's are involved in its affairs, so we've known each other forever, even before Gabe and I started dating. How much Dad likes Gabe is independent and different from how much he likes you. And second of all, even if my dad didn't like you—which isn't the case, to be clear—I still would and that's more important, I hope. Unless you were trying to hook up with my dad all along, that is."

John made a face. "You caught me. Your Dad is so hot I was using you to get closer to him. Maybe also as revenge for you being after Andrew on Thanksgiving."

"Mhm-hm," I played along. "I'm deeply hurt, but I understand. How did you find out you wanted to be with him before you knew him?"

John smirked mischievously. "I saw a picture of him on your phone and fell in love at first sight."

I laughed and playfully swatted his arm before leaving the bathroom and turning off the light on John.

***

Fully equipped with our boots and coats, John and I made our way outside to let Dad know we were taking Grampa's old truck to the Outdoor Trading Post. All it was, essentially, was a local, non-chain Bass Pro store with all kinds of outdoor gear from mud boots and jackets to tools and DIY supplies to tents and flashlights. For southern Maine, though, it was a gigantic store and should have been quite a sight for suburban kids like John.

I always enjoyed going. It was rare that I bought anything if I wasn't hunting for a specific item, but it was the only kind of window shopping I liked, besides browsing bookstores, of course. Strolling through the aisles, checking out the gear, and imagining all the adventures one could encounter on a camping trip in the wild of a Maine national park—these imagined excursions made up a good part of my childhood and youth. And while it was something Gabriel and I had done together a few times, he was more of a person for an actual night at a family friend's comfy cabin than an imaginary night in a sparsely-equipped tent.

We headed to the barn in the backyard whose door was open and the two men's subdued voices were carried over by the wind that was picking up. Dad's thick plaid shirt was rolled up to his elbows as he was pointing at various corners and edges of the half-finished wardrobe on the wall and Gabe had his hands stuffed into the pockets of his dark blue down vest. They both turned at the jiggle of my keys.

"We're heading to the Trading Post. Do you need us to pick anything up?"

Dad thought for a second, then replied no. "But, Peanut, could you go grocery shopping? There's a half finished list on the kitchen counter by the toaster."

I frowned at him. It was my first full vacation day and I didn't feel like doing any chores. I knew how lazy and selfish that sounded, but Dad liked to spring stuff like this on me last minute. Had he given me a heads up the night before, I would have been happy to do it now. But as if this weren't enough, he continued his disruption:

"John, if you didn't mind, I could use your help with this wardrobe. Would you mind lending me a hand this morning? I promise I'll let you off in the afternoon so you two can go to the Trading Post."

"Dad!"

"Sure, no problem," replied John.

I glared at him. I knew he was trying to make a good impression on Dad, but he didn't have to agree to this inappropriate request.

"Fine," I groaned and stomped back to the house to get and complete the grocery list. At least they would get to know each other better which was undoubtedly Dad's intention, but I still didn't love sharing my boyfriend in the sparse break time we had.

***

I didn't know how he had done it, but Gabriel had convinced me to bring him along to get groceries for his mom.

"Thanks for this." He looked at me from the side. I shrugged one shoulder.

After about a minute, he inquired: "So, how long have you been seeing John?"

I exhaled through my nose. "About a month now."

"Wow."

"Any comments you want to share?" The annoyance in my voice was tangible, and Gabriel had always had high emotional intelligence to gauge people's moods. I wanted him to know he was about to be out of line.

He chose not to hear it, though. "Seems early to bring him home, that's all."

"Just because you never brought any college girlfriends home, doesn't mean I can't. And anyway, we've been close for much longer than we've been together."

"Grace, it's fine. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I just wasn't prepared to see you with anybody."

"Gabe, it's been almost four years."

"I know."

My hands shifted on the steering wheel. It was a late Saturday morning and traffic was as insane as it got around our area, which was not very. I hadn't driven the route to Target in a couple of months, but I could have navigated it in my sleep.

"I haven't dated much in college," he admitted after a while and focused his eyes on something outside of the passenger side window.

"Really? Why?" I hadn't wanted to entertain this conversation, but he had taken me by surprise and it had slipped out. Now I silently cursed myself.

I didn't know when it had happened, but it had gotten quiet in the truck apart from its age-related noise. The board above the glove compartment was loose and rattled at every bump in the road and the hood of the old vehicle wasn't soundproofed well so the sound of the engine entered the cabin louder than usual. Grampa had already gotten a used silver SUV, the one we had taken to Massachusetts for Christmas, but this old baby, with which I had grown up, would not quit. Eventually, he would have to get rid of it, but until then, Dad kept fixing it up enough so it would be usable.

Now, in spite of all attempts Grampa's truck made to curb the silence, the quiet seemed to swallow the sounds. Curiously, I didn't perceive it as an awkward silence, rather apprehensive. It occurred to me that it resembled the feeling I got before unruly weather took over the sky.

"Well, for one, I was hung up on you for a pretty long time."

Oh. I swallowed. There's the change in weather.

"And then I threw myself into school and rowing and I was only seeing two girls in those four years and neither of them turned into something serious. And I didn't want to bring them home to meet the family if we weren't serious. Not that they would have wanted to come, but—anyway, that's why."

"I'm serious about John." My voice was low, but steady.

He nodded.

We drove in silence for another while before Gabe spoke again. "You know I'm going to law school in the fall, right?"

No, I hadn't known that. "Really? I didn't even know you took the LSAT."

As I was pulling into first the Target lot and then a parking spot close to the entrance, I was getting excited at the prospect of Gabe achieving a goal he'd talked about so much during his senior year of high school. I could remember countless evenings after dinner when we were lying in the hay in our barn, watching the stars through the open gate and talking about our plans for the future, some now turning out to have been realistic like law school, others unrealistic like us staying together and getting married eventually. These memories hadn't popped up in my mind in a long time.

"Where are you going?" I asked. He had talked about the University of Southern Maine, thinking that's where we would both be going for graduate school.

He scratched the side of his neck as I took the key out of the ignition. "New Haven?"

"Are you serious? You got into Yale?" My eyes widened to the size of tennis balls. He nodded and smiled sheepishly. "Gabe, that's incredible! Congratulations!"

For the first time since I'd been home, or for the first time in years, I really looked at him. I noticed how his dark, shiny hair was shorter than it had been in high school, but I could still remember how it curled at the tips when he grew it out. How his facial features were more defined, more masculine now. How his face had become framed by a slight dark stubble on his cheeks and chin. How he had lost weight since he had taken up rowing in college and how his entire shape was more defined and athletic even if he had quit the team before his senior year. How his dark brown eyes were still as warm as I remembered, even if they now seemed more cautious around me.

Unwillingly, I was thrown back into the spring of four years ago, before we had broken up. We had grown up together as children in our small town, our families had known each other from city council and countless other town affairs. Eventually, we had fallen in love, I supposed. We had known each other inside and out, so well that it had sometimes been eerie to others.

I didn't know John nearly as well as I did Gabe, even after four years of barely talking to the latter. I didn't know if John liked the feel of a cold windowpane on his forehead when leaning against it like Gabe did, or if John preferred the loveseat over the couch, or if John got unreasonably irritated when his socked foot stepped into a wet spot on the kitchen or bathroom floor. I didn't know if John's guilty pleasure was fuzzy rugs, or if he had a soft spot for baby goats (although who didn't). I was willing to bet there were more things I didn't know about John than those I did.

With Gabe, it had been the complete opposite, and maybe still was, despite how much both of us had changed through college. But what I had with John was nothing like what I'd had with Gabe. It was different. I didn't have to know him inside out, didn't have to have grown up with him to feel close to him. And I couldn't wait to find out all of the little details you only learned about a person over time.

As all of these thoughts were running through my head, it occurred to me that I had been avoiding Gabe for a long time, perhaps out of fear old feelings would resurface. And they did at that moment in the truck in the Target parking lot. Not the romantic kind, though. I looked at Gabe and his presence comforted me. Gabe personified home to me almost as much as my Dad or Grampa did. He and I had history and we would always have that, for better or for worse. But that was what it was: history. And John was my present. Just as he would always have history with Jenna, regardless of his present.

"Ready to rave?" asked Gabe, referring to joint grocery trips in past times which had turned into shopping sprees for anything but what had been on our parents' lists.

Before opening the door of the truck to climb out, Isent him a warm smile and nodded.