They greet each other fondly. I mean, fondly for Grey, which is a ghost of a smile and that twinkly eye situation.
"It's true," Hal tells me. "He's been coming here since he was ten. Learned how to patch drywall about then, didn't you, son?"
"Yessir."
"He learned from the best," Hal continues. "That woman could outfix any man in town. She worked at the steel factory during World War II. Tough as nails. I once saw her rewire a ceiling fan with nothing but a butter knife and some duct tape."
I wish I knew how impressive that actually was, but I've never seen the inside of a ceiling fan. So I chuckle amiably.
"Chip off the old block." Hal claps Grey on the shoulder. I get the distant sense he's trying to talk Grey up to me. "Don't want to know what half the town would do without him."
"You done, Hal?"
"Oh, I guess. Whatcha working on?"
"Molly bought the old Genoa house."
"Ah," he says, nodding. "Maybe I should get you a bigger cart."
"Maybe next time. Just need to fix a couple of urgent things for now to get her by. She's gonna learn how to do it all herself."
"A commendable skill. Well, let me know if you can't find anything."
At that, Grey laughs.
"You know, someday I'm gonna move things around just to mess with you."
"Scavenger hunt. I like it."
We say our goodbyes, and Hal leaves, stopping at a man with his little girl to ask if they need help.
When I glance at Grey, he's watching the man and his little girl with a look on his face I can't place.
"You know, if my players get one thing from me, I hope it's the knowledge that somebody gave enough of a shit to teach them something useful."
Something in my chest twists at the way he says it, but then the moment is gone. He jerks his chin toward the registers.
"Come on, peaches--let's go fix some shit."
And I follow him, smiling.
CHAPTER 12
CRAB DOWN
GREY
The elementary school smells like vegetable soup.
I don't know why, but it's smelled like this for actual ever. Like, since the school was new and I was a kid. At this point, it’s in the foundation. And as nasty as cafeteria vegetable soup is and as unappetizing the smell, it always makes me a little hungry.the smell is Must be Pavlovian.
The cheerful sounds of teachers in the midst of lessons floats through the halls, and I find myself smiling.
I've been doing that a lot lately.
It's Thursday, and despite being slammed all week, I've seen Molly nearly every day. If not for teacher team practice, Rambler's practice, where she showed up with Cass and her stepdaughter Cricket. Today was the only day I wasn't slated to see her. Normally, I don't get a chance to come over here--I teach shop at the high school and coach baseball, but I have a bit of time in the afternoons on Thursdays. So when the PE teacher started puking his guts up with the flu and the principal asked for a fill in, I didn't think twice. Not until I said yes, at least, onremembering it didn't just mean I could pop by the elementary school library to see Molly, but that I had to actually teach elementary school kids.
When I reach the edge of the sunken library in the middle of the school, my only thought isWorth it.
