As I travel down Main Street, I wave at Rosemarie Martin, who’s watering the flowers in front of her shop before she opens for the day. The pots hanging from the overhang are teemingwith blooms and colors. Geraniums, petunias, and impatiens. I think those small flowers are called impatiens.
I’m not familiar with the types of flowers. I’m a roses, tulips, and daisies kind of guy. Not that I’ve ever purchased flowers for anyone but my mom.
Once, in my senior year, I thought about buying flowers for Amanda. I was going to make a decorated sign and buy a bouquet of flowers when I asked her to homecoming, but Emily overheard my plan and said it was a stupid idea. Unoriginal and pathetic.
I never got the flowers. Nor did I ask Amanda out. She ended up asking me, and afterward, I lost my virginity to her.
I’m not going to complain about the experience. I got off, and it was better than using my hand. But it wasn’t what I expected it to be. I didn’t feel like a different person. I didn’t hear birds singing, and the heavens didn’t open. There was a boom, and it was over.
Louise Walker smiles broadly and waves from under the library awning. Although she’s shrouded in shadows with only the faint light from inside the glass storefront window, I’m able to make out the same flowerpot arrangements as Rosemarie. The instant her hand drops to her side, she’s digging in her pocket and dragging out her cell phone.
Peachy. It’s begun… ‘I saw little Jake Thompson driving to work. He’s going to make a fabulous police office, and he looks just like his daddy.’
I tug my cap down lower and focus my attention on the pickup taillights in front of me. It’s one of the vehicles at my friends’ house the other day when I stopped and playedbackyard football with the guys. I left before everyone else, so I’m not sure which of my old classmates it belongs to.
The blinker for the black, lifted pickup flips on for the street leading to the police station. I follow but slowly, so it doesn’t look like I’m shadowing the driver. I don’t want a shotgun or a 2x4 aimed at my head.
When the pickup brakes flash, then the blinker picks back up where it left off, I cringe. Okay, now I really look like a stalker. I follow the pickup into the police station parking lot.
As we both climb out of our vehicles, I grin at Xavier, one of my high school best friends. “Hey, bud.” I lock my doors and stride toward him. I shouldn’t have worried. Xavier won’t give a rat’s ass if I’m stalking him. He’d just take it as a compliment.
“Hey, man.” He smiles back as we give each other a bro hug, complete with a clap on the back.
“It’s good to see you all dressed up and ready to protect our little slice of heaven. I heard you already played the hero role twice yesterday. Once at the park and the second time you rescued a kitten, no less.”
“Thanks.” I step back as the sun breaches the horizon, leaving a slight orange glow in its wake. “You’re up early.”
The parking lot is empty with only our vehicles, a couple of cruisers, and the two overnight police officers’ cars parked in the gravel next to us. My gaze flickers to the ambulance lot on the other side of the block to find no signs of Emily’s car.
My goal is to avoid running into her again for as long as possible.
Dumbass. How long do you think that’s going to last? The police work closely with the EMTs, and you live in a town of under two thousand people.
“I’m on my way to a construction job on Harrison Drive.” Xavier folds his arms over his chest. He might look like a pretty boy GQ model, but he’s a hard worker.
“How’s working for your dad going?” He earned a degree in architecture, but rather than moving to the city and climbing the corporate ladder at a firm, he stayed in town, working for his father and designing construction projects on the side.
“Great. The crew are all hard workers, so no complaints there.” He frowns. “We’ve had issues with our receptionist position, but we make do.” He laughs. “Yesterday, I stayed at the office, answered the damn phones, and did payroll.”
“A man of many talents.”
He waggles his eyebrows and grins. “That’s me.”
I glance at my watch. “I’d better get inside. My shift starts in ten minutes.”
“No worries.” He puts his hand up to his forehead in a salute. “I just wanted to stop by and say hello.” He frowns. “Hey, I heard you bought the Caldwell place.”
“Yeah, I did. The owners updated the living room and dining room, but that’s where their renovations stopped. The structure has good bones, but there’s still a lot of work to be done. I’m starting the master bedroom this weekend.”
“I’ll stop by sometime and check it out.”
“Sounds good. I’d appreciate your insight.”
As he pulls off the lot, I track across the parking lot. It’s good to be home. I’ve missed the small-town charm, my friends, and the simplicity of living in Brookhaven. Columbia wasn’t a large city, but compared to Brookhaven, the crime rate was astronomical. Thefts, assaults, shootings. You name it, I’ve dealt with it over the last couple of years.
Here.... I grin as my steps near the front door. Here, my job will consist of chatting with my neighbors and giving stickers to the little kids. I couldn’t be happier about the change of pace.
Chapter Nine
