“What?” I search her expression, trying to read the sudden change. It’s like she’s giving me bad news.
“The store is closed.”
“It’s Monday.”
“Exactly.” She gives me a lopsided smile, and I wonder if I missed yet another joke. It wouldn’t be the first one.
“So, what?” I ask, still at a loss. “Why is the hardware store closed on Monday?” I know stores sometimes close on Sundays in small towns, but I swear I’ve never heard of this kind of thing before.
She laughs at my confusion, and something in her eyes softens. “When else would it be closed?” she asks, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Not on Monday. People work on Monday.”
Her laughter grows as she shrugs, pretending to be helpless against the town’s quirks. “Not here.”
I blink at the stupidity of this ‘full of love town’ before I head to my truck.
“You’re leaving?” The disappointment in her voice is so loud, it nearly knocks me down. Right after it lifts me up cause it sure as fuck feels good to be so needed.
“No. I’m gonna drive home to check if I have anything left at my house and be back. We need to fix this before the whole town riots without coffee and pancakes.”
The smile stretching her face might be the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in my entire life, and I forget to actually walk. Instead, I stand and watch her not blinking.
“Okay, Jericho.” Her smile grows wider. “I’ll see you soon.”
Her voice jerks me back from nirvana, and I start moving again. “Yeah.”
I get to my truck and start driving. My usual road back to the house is blocked—there’s roadwork going on, and I have to find another way around.See, someone is working on Monday,I think to myself since this nonsense of a hardware store taking a Monday break still doesn’t sit well with me.
For some unexplainable reason, I’ve never driven this way before, and this part of town is new to me. There are a fewbusinesses and more houses. A gas station. A hair salon. A spa. A diner. A small convenience store.
Hold on a minute.
I press the brakes.
A diner.O-o-oh. The dick’s diner. And sure enough, the literal logo on top of the building saysDick’s Diner.
I pull off from the road and park across the street from it. It seems they’re doing some remodeling still, and Nora was right—there’s a plumber’s vehicle parked on the side, an open-bed truck withBetter Call Johnwritten across the side.
John’s got some good pipes. Exactly the ones I need. They’re currently sticking out from the back of his truck bed.
I watch the front and wait for him to come out to see if I can buy just two pipes from him. He’s bound to come out at some point. And sure thing, a tall, rugged man walks out of the front door and heads to John’s truck. Must be the man himself.
I stop the engine and get outside.
“Hey,” I start friendly because the man did nothing wrong besides working for a known town dick.
John regards me with furrowed brows and a sour expression on his face. “You the new contractor everyone’s talking about?”
The friendliest town my ass. Thanks a lot, Jonah.
“I don’t know what they’re talking about, but yes, I’m a contractor. I don’t mean to step on anyone’s toes though—I work out of town,” I say, trying to smile. I’m sure it comes out as a grimace, but I doubt John would care.
“Too good for the town folks then. Hm,” he hums under his nose.
Guess I’d better forget about the pipes being sold or handed to me in any capacity. I make a beeline around his truck and walk down the street, trying not to look like an idiot.
John gets into his truck and moves it to the back of thediner while I walk into the convenience store (at least something is open today) and start browsing the shelves, keeping an eye on John’s truck the whole time. He stops the engine, climbs out, scratches his junk, and heads toward me. Toward the store, to be precise.
