Except be a good man.
Chapter Five
Lance didn’t know what to say to the woman he’d been in love with since he sat behind her in their twelfth grade math class. Her long golden hair and pretty smiles, blue eyes and petite shape made him stumble over everything he’d ever tried to talk to her about. It got so bad, he’d stopped trying. Instead, he’d soak up her hello smiles and keep loving her from a distance.
After school, they’d gone their separate ways, and he’d thought to forget her… only that hadn’t worked out so well. He’d had many sleepless nights where she’d had the lead role in his dreams. Unable to stop wondering, he asked around and found out she worked in the bank. How many times had he gone there, hoping to see her, only to be disappointed?
Then Damon, his brother who used crude jokes, sexy approaches, and a masculine charisma to attract the opposite sex, announced he’d found the girl he intended to marry, and Lance’s secret crush showed up again in his world.
For the first time in his life, he’d gotten drunk as a skunk and stayed that way for days. Coming to his senses on the fourthmorning of being blotto, he’d laid on his disgusting unmade mess of a bed and stared around his newly purchased shack only a blind man might call a home.
Seeing the number of jobs needed to make the place livable, he let the remorse wash over him again but this time he dealt with the pain as a sober man and accepted that he’d never had a chance with Rachel. Even though he’d been the recipient of her shy smiles more than once, she’d never really seen him as boyfriend material.
Time to move on bro.Hurt by the words he muttered to himself, he accepted deep inside that he needed to listen… be a man. Setting his goals back in place without her in the picture, he shook off the remorse and began to slowly achieve them one after the other.
He'd always hated the weak man his father had become and remained till the day he died. Pride kicked in, and Lance refused to become that man. Instead, he got his butt back to work. His old boss was so glad to see him return, he’d cornered him as soon as he stepped into the trailer which they used as an office.
“Lance, you’re here. Jesus, I’m glad you’re better. That blasted flu sure hits a guy hard. But I kept telling myself my boy is young and strong. No reason to think the worst. And I was right.”
“Sorry I didn’t open the door when you knocked, Dale. Couldn’t take the chance of – ahh, spreading my germs.” Lance remembered his boss at his front door, calling out a few times trying to get his attention, but he’d refused to open to him. Truth was that the thought of the man he respected seeing him in such a pitiable state made him feel ashamed. Actually, he’d declined to talk to anyone, even his brother. Mainly his brother. The strutting rooster who’d destroyed any chance he had of one day reaching out to Rachel.
The stupid plans he’d fantasized about… of fixing his house, getting ahead in his job, having security so he could offer her more than a night on the town and a roll in the sack.
But no more self-pity or bullshit. No more hiding from the world. He’d decided instead to move on, reno his house, and start living. And he had. He’d worked like a dog, putting in long hours of overtime, showing up for the worst jobs, and becoming indispensable to the company.
Early the next year, his good-natured boss had gotten diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma, and things went to hell in a handbasket. Because of his poor health, Dale faced the future and called Lance into the office, telling him some hard facts. “I’m going to die sooner than I expected, boyo. They give me five years… maybe less. With my diabetes and the extra weight I’ve never been able to get rid of, I’m a goner. Look, I want you to buy the business. And I’ll give you sweet deal.”
“What? No. I don’t care about the business. It’s you that’s important. We need to get a second opinion.”
“Hell, boy, that was my second opinion. We have to accept the truth. It is what it is.”
From then on, Lance watched over his friend like a hawk, doing as many things as possible for him that Dale would allow. When the sick man finally called Lance in to the trailer to show him the contract for the sale he’d had drawn up, he couldn’t believe it. “Whoa! Dale this is way too much of a bargain, man. You’d get way more from other buyers. You must know that.”
“Don’t need more. Want you to take over my customers. They like you and you’ve always been a good worker. I’ve never known you to gouge anyone or inflate your prices. Listen Lance, Carlton Grove is a flourishing little city and will provide you a good living if you work hard.”
Close to tears, Lance let the old man see how touched he was. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Hell, you don’t have to. I’m old and sick. I got no kids. You’ve been more of a son to me than I could hope for. I want you have what I spent my life building.”
And so they’d made a deal where Lance could make payments over time. And unknown to him, Dale had left a will bequeathing everything to him on his death. An occasion that happened all too soon. Dale didn’t last a year before a heart attack took him in his sleep.
Once he’d taken over control, Lance had approached Damon. He’d seen his newly-married brother go from job to job, never seeming to hold down a position for longer than a few months. He’d known that a lot of Damon’s employment had been as a laborer, doing odd carpentry jobs and so he had some experience in the trades. Even painting houses and roofing could be useful. With that diverse know-how, he offered his brother a partnership, and they never looked back.
Truth was, he did seventy percent of the work and often had to go back to fix Damon’s screwups, but all in all, they’d gotten along pretty well. Lance was able to help Rachel in a roundabout way and then love her kids when each one appeared. And he’d kept his eye on Damon too, trying to be there for him as well. That is, until he became the cheating bastard who showed nothing but disrespect for his family.
Being best man at the wedding had been the hardest thing Lance had ever faced or thought he’d have to do. Wearing a smile, pretending to be happy while his guts ripped apart, breaking a sweetness inside he thought he’d buried. Yet he’d handled it. But this bullshit made him sick in his soul. And so ashamed. Yet there was nothing he could do about it.
Until now.
Holding her in his arms made all the old aches surface again. His dreams… his yearning for her to see him.
Him.
How the hell could he think about stuff like this at such a moment?
Stop it…
***
