Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 64419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
I grabbed my coffee when he pulled up to the curb. “I’m gonna do my best.”
“That’s the spirit!” He clapped me on the back, his weathered face lighting up.
I slept most of the day and was up most of the night. My leg recovered from the trek to Aly’s and back after I did some of the physical therapy exercises I was supposed to have been doing all along. That night, I stayed close to home, walking outside to sit on the curb. I favored water instead of beer and tried to come up with a game plan.
I wanted to woo Aly back, but I had made a mess of things. She hadn’t responded to the flowers, and I didn’t think my leg was up to another challenge. I called into the local radio station and dedicated a song to her. I didn’t know if she even listened to the radio, but some folks around here did. It would get back to her, I was sure.
I picked “I’m Sorry” by Blake Shelton.
“And who is this from?” the DJ asked.
“Linc,” I said.
I kept the radio on until I heard my song, and the dedication: “This song goes out to Aly from Linc.” A moment later, I got a few texts.
One from Danny said, Good move.
One from Porter read, Nice.
One from Dad went, Glad to see you came to your senses.
The next day was Monday. I asked Danny to stop on the way to work so I could get a fancy coffee at the bakery. I picked up a chocolate croissant while I was at it and hopped back into the truck. On the way to work, I tried unsuccessfully to talk Danny into delivering them for me.
“Look, she doesn’t want to talk to me,” I argued.
“She doesn’t want to talk to me either,” Danny said firmly. “Not about your love life.”
“Who else am I gonna ask?”
“Porter?” Danny guessed.
I shook my head. Porter would eat me alive and spit out my bones before he would play matchmaker between me and Aly. I would just have to find one of the loaders or the yard guys to deliver Aly’s breakfast.
I clocked in and took the coffee and pastry out into the yard. The first guy I came across was Kyle. He was just out of high school and had talked his way into a job as a salesman. He was friendly and had an easy way of upselling the customers to get them to purchase a higher quality wood than they had originally come for.
“Hey, Kyle,” I said, holding out my gifts. “Will you run these up to Aly in the office? I have a delivery to make.”
“Uh, sure.” He took the bag and the cup with a puzzled look, as if about to ask me why I couldn’t do it myself.
I turned around and left before he could stop me, walking all the way back to the barn before spying on him. I saw him just as he entered the front door and knew my delivery had made it safely. For the rest of the day, I kept my head down. There was a tiny bit of hope that Aly would come out to find me. Maybe she would decide that flowers and coffee made up for all the heartache that I had caused. It didn’t happen. She never showed up.
I went home with Danny, discouraged but not out of the game. He asked me whether I had spoken with her, and I had to admit defeat. “I’m gonna try again tomorrow,” I said.
“That’s the spirit,” Danny cheered. “But just so you know, I’m not taking anything to her tomorrow either.”
“I know,” I assured him.
The next day, I had lunch delivered to the main office, a fancy Italian place that delivered through Door Dash. It cost a fortune, but it was worth it. I would blow my entire paycheck for as many months as necessary to get back into her good graces. She was worth it.
Again, I wondered if she would come find me to thank me, but again, there was no response. I stowed my feelings of rejection, imagining how Aly had felt when I had betrayed her. No amount of food or gifts was going to replace the trust I had violated. I decided to man up the next day and marched into her office.
She was sitting behind the computer, working. No emotion registered in her eyes as I approached, and I wasn’t sure that was a good thing. She wasn’t angry or crying, but she wasn’t smiling or friendly either. She acted as she had that first day I had seen her after returning from the service, like I had hurt her somehow. Back then, I hadn’t known what I had done. Today, I knew damned well.
She looked up briefly and then went back to her task, not saying anything. I took my heart in my hand, summoning up the courage to speak. “I’m sorry, Aly.”