Rock The Wolfe by Karyn Gerrard Page A

standard conversation starters. That, and the weather. Wolfe took a seat and reached for the carton of orange juice.
    “Middlin’ to fair.”
    “When are you going to tell us what happened?”
    “Jake….” his mother warned.
    “It’s all right, Mom. In a nutshell, everything went to shit, and I’m to blame.”
    He poured a glass of juice and downed it, then poured another.
    “No rush, Wolfe. You know we’re here when you’re ready to talk,” his father replied.
    Damn, he loved his parents. Through the years, he’d always thrived on their unwavering support.
    “I appreciate it. I need time. And I’d rather be here with you guys than anywhere else at the moment.”
    His mother wiped away a stray tear. “That means so much to us.”
    His father pointed to the Celtic cross tattoo on his shoulder. “Is that new?”
    “Got it about six months ago.”
    She placed a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon in front of him. Gag . But he had to try and eat. He’d already lost eleven pounds since The Overdose.
    “No more ink, Wolfe, please. Your arms are completely covered.”
    He gave his mother a playful wink. “Starting on my back next.”
    She laughed, and tapped him with her dishcloth. “Don’t you dare!”
    “Going to get a big, red heart that says ‘Mom’ covering my whole back.”
    His father joined the laughter. It felt good to kid around with his parents, yet inside, a hollow feeling of sorrow remained. All this cheerful banter reminded him the nagging ache still lingered.
    Yeah, that saying…you can’t go home again?
    Bullshit. He needed this more than he’d thought he would.
     
    ***
     
    The summer had barely started, but Kerrilynn Coleson decided this would be one break she would enjoy to the fullest. Others might have planned a trip somewhere interesting. Instead, Kerri decided the old family homestead in Bethany, Ontario would be refuge enough from life. The village was located twenty-two kilometers from her apartment in Peterborough, but far enough away to put a grinding year of teaching behind her.
    The place didn’t look like much, a clapboard one-and-a-half story house decades old that, thanks to her uncles, stood in good repair. A little under one thousand square feet, it would be large enough for her needs. Different family members had used it as a home away from home. The comfy cottage was all hers for six weeks. She’d even activated the satellite dish for her stay. Since she’d arrived a few days ago, her time curling up on the well-used sofa and listening to the Nature Channel, had already done wonders for her frayed and frazzled nerves. Nothing like ocean waves to soothe a person. Closing her eyes, she’d imagined herself on a sandy beach, gulls cawing overhead, and a handsome man in very tight swim trunks massaging her feet. A girl could dream.
    At thirty-five and a teacher for twelve years, she needed alone-time to regroup and refresh. A teacher shouldn’t feel this close to burnout, or so she told herself. But she did. The endless interference from administration, the apathy of most parents, and worse, the indifference of most of her students, had all disheartened her to the quick.
    It was time to set a few priorities—like getting a life. The world spun on its axis outside her classroom, but Kerri never took much notice. She’d become increasingly isolated the last two years, a slow withdrawal from society. She’d even stopped calling her close friends. She would have to remedy that, but in the fall. This summer she wanted to be alone.
    There had been no man in her life for quite a while. Nine months ago she’d had a boyfriend, if you could call him that. Their relationship had lasted five weeks and they’d had sex twice. The experience was so mediocre they’d parted on mutual boredom.
    Finding a man to share her life with had fallen by the wayside years ago. All her passion had been funneled into teaching. Now she wondered if she should have diverted a little toward