Logan’s Hardware served as purgatory. It was right off the green, in a row of shops that included Twice-Told Tales and a bakery, but it didn’t have the lingering locals like the others. A gentleman paying me no attention pulled a chainsaw off the shelf, testing the balance. Having this store meant no more driving into the city for something as simple as WD-40.
Browsing through the aisle, I moved through a section filled with different-sized nuts and bolts. It wasn’t as diverse as the big box stores, but it had just about everything the average weekend warrior would need to spruce up their home. Mum’s house needed plenty of attention. The list of things Pops would have fixed had reached a point where I needed to step in. I couldn’t handle her ‘making do’ when I could help. She’d say she didn’t need my help, but we both knew the truth.
Other than creaking floorboards, the store remained silent. It defied every expectation of a small shop in Firefly. I imagined an overbearing attendant, offering small talk while explaining every item on the shelves. From now on, when Firefly turned suffocating, I’d come here and hide.
The man with the chainsaw had gone to the counter to make his purchase. I poked my head out of the aisle, but couldn’t seethem. There was only one Logan in Firefly…well, technically two. I had heard from Mum that Logan Jr. had gone into the military. That left his father. I hoped I could make it out before the inquisition set in.
Chainsaw Man headed out with his purchase proudly slung over his shoulder. That man was about to head home and chop down every tree in his yard. Most likely while growling and slinging back a beer. Here’s hoping I didn’t hear the volunteer firefighters’ sirens when the trees fought back.
I had stalled long enough. I grabbed the can of grease and moved toward the front of the store. Eyes fixed on my feet, I watched the floorboards bend under my weight. I set my purchase on the counter and waited for the awkward small talk. I glanced up, waiting for the proclamation that Ellie’s boy had returned to Firefly.
Grumbling.
I raised an eyebrow at the man. Gray crept into his beard, almost hiding his lips. I attempted to age him down to fit into my memories of the town. His eyes glanced at the can and then rose back up to me. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t place the burly man. Was it possible he was one of those rare transplants who moved to a quiet town to get away from the bustle of life?
“That’s not what you want.” Straightforward. Fact. No hidden meaning laced with unspoken questions. I had been prepared for an intrusive battle of wills. He left me disarmed with his lack of curiosity.
“It’s for hinges,” I said.
“I know.”
“They squeak.”
“I know.”
Before I could growl my reply, he had already shot me a disapproving look. If Firefly residents were nosey bringers of mirth, this man was their antithesis. I doubt he had ever bakeda pie for a neighbor or grabbed a seat at Bingo night. When he frowned?—
“Grace.” His eyebrows rose.
“You’re Grace’s dad?”
Just like Gladys had done to me, I sidestepped him and created an identity based on his daughter. To rectify the situation, my hand shot out. “Charlie.”
“I know.”
For a moment, I thought he’d reject the advance. When he gripped my hand, he gave it a tight squeeze. On the second up-and-down, he added, “Seamus.”
“You’ve got a little more salt since seeing you at band concerts.”
He grumbled, but I caught the edge of a smirk. Other than that, I had only seen Pops speak with him when we went hiking through his property. Grace had been a couple of grades above me, but in a school of two hundred teenagers, we all knew one another. Unlike the assholes in my grade, she had been one of the good ones. More than a few times, we’d sit in a practice room working our way through scores of music.
“Speaking of change.” He turned my hand, showing my knuckles. “Nice ink.”
Something about the short words and gruff attitude let me take the compliment at face value. I stood a little taller, widening my shoulders to show off the canvas. It didn’t hurt that Grace’s dad had become quite the silver fox. I wouldn’t object to him taking his shirt off while I added Grace’s name in giant block letters.
“Pops was a good man.”
Seamus didn’t make assumptions. He didn’t thrust the burden of family down onto my shoulders. With a slight smile and a nod of the head, he had said his piece. I appreciated the acknowledgment. The more time I spent in the house, dissectingour complicated history, the more I understood Pops had been agreatman. I just hadn’t seen it in time.
He said nothing as he stepped from behind the counter. Vanishing into the aisle, he returned a moment later with a small bottle. Seamus was a man of few words. It should have been a relief, but I wanted to ask questions. What happened to Grace? Did he still live on the edge of town? What did his beard smell like? Could he kiss?
I chuckled at myself.
He set the bottle on the table. “Something funny?”
I didn’t know whether he was prepared for a fight or if he wanted to share. Back at the parlor, no topic was off-limits. Banter. Bullshit. That’s how we got close. When you spent that much time around one another, boundaries weren’t an option. Hell, Devon had seen my junk every time he worked on my inner thigh. It had been a brief phone call that ended our parlor. “I couldn’t ignore the money,” said our landlord. “I sold the building.” Poof. Gone almost overnight.
“Just thinking about how Firefly has changed.” Or at least its men.
