“He’s my nephew. I felt obligated.”
“And I’m practically family.”
He offers another laugh. This one isn’t as theatrically evil, but it still doesn’t look right. “And how are you practically family?”
“Army brothers. A few years apart, but you know what it’s like to come back from that, man. Life isn’t easy.”I have no idea when the last time I begged for something was, but it’s now or never.“I need this job. I’ll do whatever you need.”
Wade tosses his tool belt over his shoulder and stands straighter. At six foot three inches, I like to think I’m a pretty big dude, but Wade has me beat by at least four inches in height, which makes him much wider too. He could give me a run for my money, though I’m not sure if he would. Most people know him as a gentle giant, but I can still see the soldier waiting for a reason behind that facade.
“Have you considered your own business?” He clears his throat. “You can show up whenever you want, and if you get drunk and cut through somebody’s electrical system, it all fallsback onyou.When you fuck around at Blackrock, your bullshit costs us our reputation, which takes food from a lot of people’s families.”
I drag in a deep breath and let it out slowly, creating more cold air fog. “I’ve tried odd jobs. They don’t pay the bills. Blackrock is the biggest name in this town. People like the security in hiring a bigger company. You know that, man.”
“Exactly.” He nods and steps inside the building, letting out a rush of warmer air as hammers echo. “People know they can trust us, which means I hire guys who are reliable.”
With that, the door swings shut, and I’m left standing in the cold.
I’m not sure how I expected that to go, but I think I thought he’d at least entertain the idea of my return, or at the very least not laugh me off the street.
Fuck!
I drag my hand down over my beard and stare out onto Main Street where my truck is parked. There’s no new accumulation today, but the wind is blowing the existing snow pretty good, creating intermittent whiteouts.
I’m pretty sure everyone is over this weather. Maybe that’s what got up his ass. I should’ve asked him inside, at the end of the day, closer to his deadline, when he was more desperate.
How the hell did I let everything get this damn low?
I was happy. Alice and I were happy. We had plans for a family and a home. A real life with love, not whatever this is.
I drag in a deep breath and let it out slowly as I start up the engine and think over my next plan.
Trouble is… there is no next plan. I’ve burnt out every option I had.
I tried venturing out on my own, but this is a small town, and small towns are rumor mills on steroids. Everyone knows I picked up a gambling problem. After Alice left, the whole placewatched me lean hard on the whiskey. Most folks don’t want to work with a man like that.
Can’t say I blame them. I wouldn’t hire me either, not with what everyone is saying. It doesn’t matter which parts are true anymore. In a one-street town like this, it doesn’t need to be true to be true.
True becomes what folks are saying.
Honestly, the best shot I have at getting back to work is moving to a town where no one knows my name. A fresh start. God knows I wouldn’t be the first man to leave a small town in search of a new life, though the idea seems a little foreign to me. My family is fourth-generation Rugged Mountain folk, and I’ve hung my hat here since I was born. This mountain is all I’ve ever known. I imagined raising my kids here and taking them to the diner for seasonal meals before going over to the bakery for Josie’s bear claws. Hell, I imagined Alice and I getting married behind the cabin near the creek where my grandparents and my parents married.
I did all of this to myself.
I know that at some point I’m going to need to stop sulking and let all this go. I made a mistake and she left. That’s the end of it.
I check my blind spot before pulling out into the slushy winter street. It’s an especially slow day. The buzz of the holidays has worn off, and folks are no longer down from the mountain shopping. Tourism dips this time of year as well. Vacationers love the fall and early winter months, but once the weather gets really nasty, the allure of tropical destinations beats out our small-town mountain. I can’t imagine why anyone would prefer the Caribbean over the mountains, but it’s true. One day, the streets are packed with season-loving tourists. The next, emptier than a banker’s heart.
I know local businesses take a hit this time of year, but I much prefer this pace. I don’t have to circle until a parking spot opens up, I don’t have to wait for a booth at the diner, and when I stop at the bakery, Josie always has fresh bear claws ready and available.
The stoplight blinks in the center of town, and I pull up to it slowly. I swear the original diner owner paid someone off to have this thing plunked right next to it. It’s pretty hard to miss the special of the day when you’re sat at a stoplight staring straight at it.
Today, it’s their famous mountaintop cheeseburger, a heap of fries, a milkshake, and a hot slice of strawberry rhubarb pie. All for $4.99.
I can’t turn down that much food for $4.99. No one can. That’s why this stoplight works so well.
I flick on my blinker and begin the turn when a woman stepping into the diner catches my eye.
She’s short with long blonde hair and a bright red jacket that reminds me a lot of the one Alice has. She loved it so much because it had these cute hooks that she could snap her mittens onto. Mittens she knit herself.
