Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
“Sorry.” I shook my head, realizing Laura had said something. “I was thinking about Thelma.”
“I know you miss her, but she would be the first person to tell you to pull up your bootstraps. And to remind you this town needs eating places and new businesses. The prospective owner is twenty-eight and is enthusiastic. We need that. Try to be supportive.”
“I will.”
“Okay, great. Then you’ll vote yes at the town council meeting.”
“About what?”
“The new tenant wants some renovations done, and then there’s the name of the diner.”
“It’s changing?”
“Of course it is.”
“To what? The Sandwich Shop was a decent name.”
She shook her head. “New place, new name.”
“Which is?”
“Kind of a Big Dill.”
“Say what now?”
“That’s the hook. Something about pickles. It’s cute, right?”
I snorted. “Cute. I hate cute. I’m not voting for that name.”
“You’re going to be outvoted. The business plan is solid, the money is available, and we have a new business in town. All pluses. Stop being grumpy, locked in some false sense of loyalty, and welcome the change, John.”
Before I could respond, the door slammed open again, and Cody rushed in. “I got lots!”
I directed my attention at my nephew. “Good job. I hadn’t had a chance today.”
“Here’s your six. Mom, you need to take me to Brennan’s to sell these. And I need to go and help Dad. He’s going to pay me to clean out the storeroom. I’ll get that bike soon!”
I grinned. He’d been saving for a bike since before Christmas last year. Little did he know I had already bought it for him and he would get it for his eighth birthday in a couple of weeks. He could put his money in the bank and start saving. I’d been his age when I’d opened my first bank account.
“You going to the fair this afternoon?” I asked. Cody loved the spring fair. It was smaller than our summer harvest event but always fun. The kids loved the rides and all the junk food. The parents enjoyed being able to relax as the kids ran free. Everyone watched out for them, so they were safe.
“Yeah—I’m meeting my friends at four. Mom says I can have supper there.”
Laura snorted. “I said you could eat. I don’t think cotton candy and a corn dog constitutes dinner.”
I laughed. “Let him be a kid, Laura. You did the same thing. Hell, we both did. We turned out all right.”
She eyed me skeptically. “Well, I did,” she drawled. “You should have eaten more cotton candy—maybe you wouldn’t be such a grump.”
“I’m not a grump. I’m quiet.”
“And grumpy,” Cody said with the honesty of a child. “But you’re my favorite, Uncle J.”
“Thanks, kid.”
Laura stood and started stuffing files back into her bag. I slipped a twenty into Cody’s pocket and winked. I wanted him to have a good time at the fair. He grinned and winked back.
“See you later, big man.” I fist-bumped him, and he made an exploding sound, flicking his fingers wide like a bomb going off. “Don’t give your dad a hard time.”
“Nope!” he yelled over his shoulder, slamming out of the door again.
“I need to fix that.”
“Get Bob to order a new one,” Laura replied, starting to follow Cody. Bob now ran the large hardware place in town, having expanded it when he took it over. He managed it well, and it serviced several small towns around our area. He was also the local handyman, so he was constantly busy. We all were in our little town, often wearing more than one hat.
“I saw that, by the way,” she informed me. “And you’re not always a grump.” She indicated the door Cody had run out of. “Never with him. Or me.”
I shrugged. “You’re different.”
“Not everyone is her,” she said quietly.
“I’m aware. But in general…” I let my words trail off, not wanting to discuss that subject. Or remember.
She smiled. “The rest of the world pisses you off, you mean.”
I laughed. “Something like that.”
Laura brushed off her skirt. “I hope that changes for you one day.” She stopped before walking out. “Think about it, John. Stop resisting change. Try to move forward.”
I didn’t respond. Change and I weren’t friends. In my thirty-four years, I’d learned every time there was change, it meant heartache.
I wasn’t a fan.
And Kind of a Big Dill?
Not getting my vote.
2
JOHN
Early evening settled around me as I sat on my porch, the quiet of the night a peaceful balm. I rocked my foot slowly, letting the soothing movement of the chair settle the last of the uneasiness in my chest. I always felt that way when the past was mentioned. Whenever someone brought her up. I shook my head to dispel the thoughts. I refused to allow her to occupy space in my head.
I had a feeling Laura would inform me she lived rent-free there, destroying anything good.