"Oh, I already talked to him.It's all set."
I frown."So…why are you telling me, then?"
He shakes his head."Sorry, I'm ADHD and my brain is in squirrel mode right now."
"I don't know what squirrel mode is."
"Be glad.Anyway.They're planning on coming to the game.I guess they've been talking about expanding out this way, maybe Fairbanks, maybe somewhere smaller."
"Like Tomlin Falls?"I frown.“We’re awfully small for a chain bar.”
He shrugs."Just letting you know.I don't know who, and I don't know for sure, just that they told my cousin they might come catch the game and check out Tomlin Falls."
I shake my head."Well, thanks for the heads-up.A chain bar…here."
"Chain bar is misleading.They're family-owned and -operated with less than half a dozen locations, almost entirely Alaskan."
"I'm not in charge of Tomlin Falls, Adam."
He shrugs."Just letting you know."
I'm really not sure what I'm meant to take away from this whole exchange.Some people I don't know from a bar I've never been to in a city I've never been to are coming to our memorial game because they may open a bar…somewhere?
Cool, I guess?
"Well, I appreciate the update, Adam."
"Well, we're testing hoses, so I should get back to it."
Shaking my head at the whole, odd, random exchange, I go back to my paperwork.
The rest of the day—and the end of my 24-on—passes in a blur of paperwork, minor calls, a budget meeting with the chief, more paperwork, and one car-and-garage fire started because Hal Ballantyne had a fuel line leak and used too much starter fluid…kaboom.Hal lost his eyebrows and a good bit of his hair, but aside from being a little crispy around the edges, he's fine.The engine he was rebuilding?Not as much.
Noel is waiting for me on the porch when I get home.He lifts the six-pack he brought."Hey-a, Pops.Brought some of the good stuff."
I snort."Nah, son.The good stuff is the bottle of Blanton's I've got inside.But that'll go down pretty damn well with the chili."
"You didn't experiment with the recipe again, did you?"he asks, following me inside.
I roll my eyes."No, son, I didn't.I've abandoned the idea of trying to improve on the recipe."
"I mean, you can't really improve on perfection, and that recipe has been winning awards for two generations, now."He beelines for the crock pot, lifts the lid, and inhales deeply, groaning in anticipation."Smells like I'm about to eat myself sick."
I guffaw."Just be sick in your own home, yeah?I don't need any help stinking up the place."
“I’ve got the solution.”He shoves his hand into his hip pocket and produces a small bottle."Beano!"
"Oh, lord, Noel.That shit doesnotwork."
"I dunno.Maybe it's a placebo, but I think it does.Can't hurt, if nothing else, right?"
"Guess not."I grab the shredded cheese and sour cream from the fridge.
I fill bowls for both of us and we sit at the island, eating in companionable silence.I'm dishing myself a second bowl when my phone buzzes from the island.
I set my bowl down and check the notification; it's from Morgan:
You busy?Mal and I had plans to see a movie tonight but something better came up for her, so I'm suddenly free.
