Noah's Adventure - 4. Chapter 4 The cookout continues

I sat in the driver’s seat, running my hand over the dashboard, the smooth curve of the steering wheel. My dad’s truck. The one I’d only ever seen in photos.

The passenger door opened quietly.

“Were you surprised, honey?” Grandma asked as she settled into the seat beside me.

“Yeah,” I whispered. “How did you even find it? I never saw the truck—only pictures.”

She was quiet for a long moment, her gaze fixed on the windshield. When she spoke, her voice was steady, but her eyes glimmered.

“When your dad died… there was a lot of anger. A lot of hurt. Your uncles didn’t know what to do with their grief. Rooms were broken. Words were thrown.” She drew a breath. “Your grandfather and I knew that if we gave the truck to one of them… it would just make the fighting worse. But selling it felt wrong. So my cousin Emerson—he owns the camp where Luca and Nathan work—offered to take it and use it as a work truck.”

She smiled faintly, remembering.

“Your Great Uncle Ron drove it up to Pennsylvania. Watching it leave… that was one of the hardest days of my life. And then… I didn’t see it again. Not until last year.”

I turned toward her. “Last year?”

“Nathan was clearing land at the camp and found an old barn. Inside was just one thing—covered and stored away. The truck. He called me, talking so fast I could barely understand him. When I realized what he’d found…” Her voice wavered. “I cried. Emerson told us he’d always known the truck wasn’t meant to be used. He said it needed to wait for its real purpose—for you.”

My throat tightened.

“So everyone agreed,” Grandma continued softly. “We restored it. Piece by piece. It’s been back in Pennsylvania until Uncle Matt drove it down yesterday.”

I swallowed hard, vision blurring. “You have no idea what this means to me.”

She squeezed my hand. “I think I do, sweetheart. Come on. Let’s get back to the cookout. You can take it for a drive later.”

Back in the yard, music thumped lightly while my younger cousins splashed in the pool. I spotted Jay, Taylor, Shawn, Shane, and Shiloh huddled in a deep conversation. Aunt Kelsey sat at the pool’s edge, watching Jason and Brody play.

I kicked my shoes off and sat beside her, letting the cool water lap over my feet.

“I’m glad you and Uncle Nick could make it,” I said, watching Brody cannonball and Jason shriek with laughter.

“We’ll always be here for you, Noah,” she said gently. “Jason loves seeing his cousins. Especially you.”

I smiled. “I think he has more fun with Brody.”

“He looks up to you,” she said. “Jackson and Grayson are his big brothers, sure — but you treat him like one too.”

I nodded. “He is like a brother to me. They all are.”

Her expression softened — warm, but edged with something sad.

“I know your mom’s side had… problems. And I don’t know everything that happened when you were little. But the way she and Peter treated you was wrong. Inexcusable. You know this family loves you, right?”

A tear slipped loose before I could stop it. “Yeah. I know.”

“This is a happy day,” she whispered, wiping the tear from my cheek. “Go spend time with your friends. And hey — come to the farm this weekend. We’ll go trail riding. Bring a friend.” She winked.

I laughed, stood, and made my way to the group.

“Hey,” I said, not really sure who I was talking to.

“That truck is sick,” Shawn said immediately.

“Shawn’s obsessed with trucks,” Shane added. “Especially lifted ones.”

“As his best friend, I get shotgun and first ride,” Taylor declared.

I smiled, but my attention shifted — Shiloh was watching me. Not staring. Just… seeing me, in that unsettling way someone does when they recognize something in you that you haven’t said out loud.

Before I could ask what his deal was, the gate squeaked open.

I turned — and my stomach dropped.

A man stepped into the yard.

Tall. Familiar. Wrong.

Uncle Matt moved instantly, his voice low and dangerous.

“You shouldn’t be here, Mark.”

The other uncles closed in, forming a wall.

My mother’s brother.
My Uncle Mark.