“But seriously, I have a gift for nicknames, everyone says so.”
Seeing as Jake was doing it, Brad elbowed him aside and took out the same pie, and bit into the warm pastry. He made a humming sound as he tasted the filling.
“Who says so?” Jake said around another mouthful. “What nicknames have you come up with?”
“Ethan's.”
“Tex was a fairly easy choice.”
“Number five though, now that was genius.”
Brad was fairly sure he'd never had a conversation like this with anyone, but as his mouth was full, it would be rude to interrupt.
“Oh please. He's Ethan Gelderman number five, no thought whatsoever went into that.”
Brad was matching Jake bite for bite. The pie had a cheesy crust and was filled with chicken and vegetables, and he could honestly say he'd never eaten anything so good before.
“Whatever,” Buster said, apparently not offended that his title of nickname supremo was being challenged. “I've nicknamed Brad BJ, ’cause his middle name is Jonathan.”
Jake clutched his chest, now he'd finished his pie, and staggered backward.
“You, Buster Griffin, are a fucking genius!”
Buster preened, well more a smirk actually, but Brad guessed for him it was close.
“Although, maybe TJ would suit better?”
“I see where you're going with that, bud, and reluctant as I am to agree, I'm thinking Tex junior is a better fit. TJ it is.”
“Does that make me nickname supremo?”
Buster thought about his friend’s words while Brad shook his head at the bizarre conversation and went back to the cabinets and took out a muffin this time. He made another noise as he took a bite. It had a gooey caramel middle and dark chocolate outside.
“No, the title's mine,” Buster said, before ambling back to the kitchen and away from the coffee machine, which told Brad he wasn’t getting any.
“I need to pay you,” Brad said.
“I’ll put it in the book, and we’ll settle up before you leave.”
“Is he serious?” Brad looked at Jake.
“Deadly. We all settle up end of month. It’s how things roll in a small town, TJ. We trust each other.”
“Okay, if you say so.” This place was like something from a time warp, Brad thought.
“Got to go, TJ, work calls.”
“It's Sunday, who works on Sunday?” Brad said, following Jake back out the door.
“I'm a doctor, and much as it would work for me, I can't get these people to only fall sick Monday to Friday.”
“Any chance that nickname won't leave the Hoot?”
“Not a hope in hell, but I like the fact you didn't fight it. Things go much easier round here if you pick your battles. And while we’re talking about battles, your brother is a good man, you should talk to him.”
Jake slapped Brad on the shoulder before heading off up the street, leaving him to wonder what the hell was the deal with this place. Everyone seemed to be in each other’s business, he now had a nickname, and then there was the “settle up later,” business with Buster.
“Weird,” he muttered, heading back down the street for the general store. He needed a few things and he’d start there.
