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After lunch with Daniel and Patricia, I excused myself. I needed to take care of some pesky details: food and employment, not necessarily in that order.

Last week, I reached out to Dusty, my old boss at the garage. We’d kept in touch over the years because I always planned to return to Sierra Rose Ridge, and he was one of the people I missed most. He and Daniel gave me better blueprints on how to be a good guy than my old man ever did.

Me: Hey, boss man. How are things in the old SRR?

DustyDog: When areyou coming home?

Me: What, no foreplay? No slap and tickle first, straight to it?

DustyDog: One of my guys went on paternity leave early because his baby is in the NICU, and I’m working eight days a week. If this is a routine hello, everything’s peachy. If you’re ready to get back to work, get your ass in here, and bring your tools. Calvin and I need help.

Me: I’m back in town for good next week, and I’ve still got all my equipment.

DustyDog: Thank fucking shit. Did the army fuck you up good, or can you still turn a wrench?

Me: Why not both?

DustyDog: Fair.

DustyDog: The wife says to come to dinner when you get in town. Don’t be surprised if she tries to set you up with one of her friends. If you’ve got a gal already, you’d better bring her, or Sparrow might have you married off in a week.

Me: I’m gal-less at the moment and prefer to stay that way.

DustyDog: You gay?

DustyDog: Doesn’t matter. She’s got guy friends, too.

Me: Nope, bitter.

DustyDog: Not good enough. In fact, it might be a challenge. Better make up a wife in Canada. According to Sparrow, there’s a shortage of decent guys these days, and that’s the only reason she puts up with me.

Me: You make wedded bliss sound so appealing.

DustyDog: Not gonna lie, it’s pretty fucking awesome, but only with the right person.

I forgot Dusty was married before. His divorce was brutal. Blair’s betrayal had nothing on what his ex-wife put him through.

Me: Tell the missus I’ll bring dessert.

DustyDog: Fuck no. If I tell her that, she’ll have a bachelorette party camped out on our front yard.

Me: If that’s the case, maybe I’ll stay home.

DustyDog: It’ll be good to have you back, fucker.

Me: It’ll be good to be back, you old bastard.

DustyDog: Duty calls, but let me know when you’re in town so the wife can send out your wedding invitations.

Me: I just got out of one failed engagement, so I’m allowed a little recovery time before I’m thrown back into the meat market.

DustyDog: Don’t say that. She’ll make up excuses for a dozen friends to drop by theshop innocently.

Me: Should I fake an invalid wife?

DustyDog: Perfect. You’ll get sympathy and free food, and maybe offers of sex, but nobody will put your engagement photos in the local paper to force your hand.

Me: Thanks for the reminder, asshole.