“My dad said that too. That doesn’t change how I feel.”
Does it ever? “Back in middle school, a friend committed suicide. It bothered me for the longest time that I didn’t notice something was wrong. That I didn’t do something to stop it. Until one of my closest friends, Ottilie, said, ‘You can’t changethe past, and imagining that you can only ruins your future. Instead, we should honor her memory by keeping the best parts of her alive with us.’”
“Did that help?”
“It did. I still remember the first day I arrived at boarding school. I was terrified that no one would like me. She smiled at me. That was all it took was one little smile, and I knew I’d be fine.”
“You went to boarding school?”
Oh, that’s right, people around here don’t do that. “Yeah. My parents wanted to make sure I got the best education.” And stayed out of their hair.
“Was it an all-girls school?” There’s a decidedly naughty gleam in that boy’s eyes.
“You’re a menace.”
He chuckles. “Thanks for the talk.” As he walks back to his driveway, he waves to me with a toaster pastry in his hand.
That’s not enough for a growing boy.
“Hold on a second.”
“Huh?”
“I’ll be right back.” There’s no way I can send a struggling kid off to face the day with only a toaster pastry to eat. Doesn’t his father know how unhealthy that is? A growing boy needs protein and nutrients. An egg sandwich on toast will have to do. I can make myself something else later.
Creed is leaning against one of the motorcycles with his legs crossed, waiting for me. In that moment, it’s clear to see but hard to believe that this boy is a clone of his father. “Here.” I hold out the foil-wrapped sandwich.
“You didn’t have to give me breakfast, but thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Have a nice day.”
“Thanks.” He climbs on the motorcycle, plops a helmet on his head, tucks the sandwich in the pouch on the side, andtakes off, riding way faster than can be safe for a child his age to go.
That man needs to set some rules for Creed, even if it’s clear that he’s going to grow into an amazing man one day. Who hopefully isn’t as grumpy as his father.
Now what am I going to do with myself today? It isn’t as if there are any charities out here for me to work on.
Maybe I should find somewhere in town to eat breakfast…
That sounds like a nice idea.
***
Instead of wandering around town, I find myself walking into the bookstore. Eating alone isn’t something that bothers me. I’ve done it far too many times to be uncomfortable. But it would be nice to grab a book or two to read after I finish my paper.
“’ello again.” Bram turns to me as I step inside. “Did those books work out for you?”
That isn’t quite how I’d describe it. “They were perfect, thanks. I’m in today looking for something to read at a coffee shop. If you have one around here.” There’s a diner down the block, but that doesn’t look like a place to sit down, relax, and savor a cup of tea.
“We don’t have a coffee shop. We have the best coffee shop that you’ve ever been to.”
“High praise. I’ve been to coffee shops around the world.” Turkish ones are by far some of my favorites.
“You don’t believe me, do you? That’s okay. Pick a book, and I’ll walk you there myself. I want to see your face as you step inside.”
Oh no. “Bram, that’s so nice, but…”
“No strings. I just thought you could use a friend in town that knows what you’re going through.”
