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The woman joined her friend and Zack continued down the sidewalk, taking in the little town he’d been brought up in.
It was far different than what he’d grown used to. He’d been living in New York City, working a punishingly fast-paced job on Wall Street that barely let him sleep eight hours a night. He hadn’t had more than five days off in a row in six years. Work-life balance had been a joke that he and his co-workers would laugh about as they cashed their outrageous paychecks. He was thirty-six years old and exhausted. There were days he felt like he was seventy. He was sure that it wasn’t supposed to be like this.
That’s why he’d quit.
Not a soul knew that he’d done it, although his co-workers had probably learned of his resignation by now. Zack had walked into his boss’s office, slapped down his two week notice, and didn’t regret it for a second. There had been the usual pleas from the management that he could take some time off, think about it, surely, he didn’t want to do this, right? Eventually, they’d realized he was serious.
For the first time in over a decade, he didn’t have any place to be in the foreseeable future. No responsibilities, no appointments, no ringing phones, no deadlines. He could simply live his life any way that he wanted to.
And he had no earthly idea how to do that. He’d forgotten what it was like to be human.
What did people do in the middle of the day when they didn’t have to be anywhere at a specific time? They might stop in the local watering hole to have a drink.
Conveniently, Zack’s wandering had brought him to the front door of his brother Tate’s bar and grill - Tate’s Tavern. Why not get a drink? He wasn’t driving, and no one was depending on him for anything.
The air conditioning hit him when he walked in, raising goosebumps on his arm. The place wasn’t even half full, only a few tables occupied and one guy sitting at the bar talking to the bartender.
His brothers. Tate behind the bar, and Cooper sitting on the other side.
“I’m not surprised to see you behind the bar,” Zack said, walking up behind Cooper. “But what’s your story, brother? It’s a little early in the day.”
In seconds, Zack was wrapped up in a hug from his younger brother, and Tate had rounded the bar to take his turn, too. They were slapping each other on the back and grinning. At least for now they were happy to see each other. It might change later.
“It’s after five in Hong Kong,” Cooper teased. “Or at least, I think it is. Sit the fuck down and have a beer, big brother. Why didn’t you tell me you were flying in this morning? I would have picked you up at the airport.”
“I rented a car. I wanted to have wheels while I was here.”
“You could have used one of the cars at the house,” Tate said. “You didn’t have to rent one. Hell, I would have lent you mine if you needed it.”
“I didn’t want to make a big deal of it. I enjoyed the drive into town.”
Winslow Heights was about an hour from a major airport, although it had its own executive airfield for private planes.
“It looks exactly the same,” Cooper groaned, sitting back down on a barstool. “Nothing ever changes around here.”
“You being here is a big change,” Zack pointed out. “Are you here for good? Or is this just a pit stop along the way? Are you here for the wedding?”
“The wedding?” Cooper laughed. “I am not attending that event. Dad knows how I feel about it all. But yes, I am back in town. For good? Who knows the future? I’m here for now.”
Cooper had been born with an insatiable curiosity about other places on the globe, and as soon as he’d been old enough to travel, he’d gone off on far-away adventures in places Zack had barely even heard of. He’d come home every now and then, drop off a few souvenirs he’d picked up, and then be back on the road again.
As far as Zack knew, Cooper had never held a job. Not a real one, anyway. He might have picked up odd jobs here and there, but for over ten years he’d had no discernible income stream that anyone knew about. Cooper might be a drug dealer or a pirate for all they knew. Yet he never seemed to lack money, and he had all that he needed.
To be fair, Cooper wasn’t the type to spend money, even if he had it. He’d lived out of a backpack most of the time, slept on couches and floors, and hung out with the locals wherever he was. He liked the simple life, and his father’s conspicuous consumption had always turned him off.
“That’s good,” Zack said. “Are you staying at the house?”
“Oh, hell no,” Cooper laughed. “I have an apartment over the shutdown movie theater. It’s decent, and everything is close by.”
“He means this place is close by,” Tate said, rolling his eyes. “He eats pretty much all his meals here. We don’t even hand him a menu anymore. He’s memorized it. Are you hungry? The kitchen is open.”
Zack was about to deny that he needed to eat but his stomach spoke up first, growling for food. The muffin he’d had in the airport this morning seemed a long time ago.
“I could eat,” he conceded, sliding onto the barstool next to Cooper. “And I will take that beer, please.”
Zack reached for his wallet, but Tate shook his head.
“Your money isn’t any good here,” Tate said. “But Cooper’s is. I’ll put it on his tab.”
