Will glares at Bradley, who chuckles and signals Owen to join them.
Once Owen sits, facing Will, Bradley calls Becky over to take Owen’s order. He asks for gin and tonic, which makes Becky shout, “Yo, Bill, bring out the fancy shit!”
“Why are you bruised?” Owen asks Will, which is ironic because he’s the one sitting with a nasty bruise on his face.
“A shower accident,” Bradley answers. “Will rarely showers, but when he does, it’s chaos.”
Owen laughs, then apologizes. Will kicks Bradley under the table and asks, “What happened to you?”
Owen crosses his arms and leans back. “I was in a fight, but I’d rather not get into it.”
“Ooh, big city secrets.” Bradley rubs his hands. “Maybe things will be more interesting around here. It will sure beat hearing about another dead junkie.”
“You guys get a lot of those?” Owen asks.
“Yeah, like every few weeks. Mostly young folks, but sometimes they’re older. Last month it was a mother of three.” He shakes his head. “Nasty business, and our useless sheriff is way over his head, but don’t quote me on that, ’cause the man has fans around here.”
Becky brings Owen his gin and tonic, and Bradley asks what they should toast to.
Owen frowns as he thinks, making Will wonder how old he is to be looking both young and old. “I guess we can drink to new beginnings,” Owen says, “and to not fucking things up.”
They clink their drinks, then talk about what there is to do around town, which isn’t much, though there are beautiful trails around the area, which Owen seems excited to explore. When Bradley announces he needs to take a dump, Will is left alone with Owen. He doesn’t see himself as shy, but he can’t remember the last time he was alone with a stranger. Even his clients are the same people he worked with for years.
“So, what do you do?” Owen asks, holding his glass with long and delicate fingers.
“I’m a lumberjack.”
“Oh, cool.”
Though it shouldn’t matter, Will feels the need toadd, “I run my own business, actually. Bradley and two others work for me, and sometimes we hire more people if we need to.”
“Oh, wow. A businessman.”
Will laughs. A real businessman would likely take offense at such a comparison. “It’s just a small business. Nothing to write home about. We specialize in high-quality wood.”
“Is there really such a thing? I mean, I’m sure there is if that’s your job. Sorry.”
“It’s all right. Not all trees are the same. Most people can’t tell the difference, but some do. What about you?”
“I definitely can’t tell the difference between one piece of wood and another.”
“I meant what you do for work.”
“Oh.” He shifts in his seat. “Well, it’s complicated.”
“Didn’t mean to pry.”
“No, no. It’s fine. I used to study art. My father hated it, but I convinced him to pay for it because I’m an only child and used to be a spoiled brat.”
Will laughs. “Spoiled brats usually don’t call themselves that.”
“I’m a recovered spoiled brat. I wanted to work in advertising and someday have my own studio for graphic design. Have you ever used Photoshop? It came out like two years ago, and it’s wild.”
Will has never heard of something called Photoshop, but he likes the spark in Owen’s eyes as he speaks.You can tell whenever someone feels passionate about something. “I never heard of it, but you’re using the past tense. That plan didn’t work out?”
Owen twitches his lips, which are very pink. “Things… happened, but I’ll get back to it someday. I miss art. For now, I just want to focus on getting settled here and not pissing off my aunt.”
“What’s her name? Van Buren folks know everyone.” Which was a curse for Will when the shit with Joel took place.
