“Yeah, I got it.” He retreats, giving his feathered butt a wiggle as he stares at me.
If it’s Anson, I’m ignoring it—at least until I’ve taken ten minutes to decompress. But when I pull it out, JJ’s name lights up the screen.
I answer the call and swing my door open. “Hey, man.”
“What’s up?”
Even without the caller ID, I’d recognize JJ’s good-spirited tone anywhere. My best friend is a walking, talking, pocket-full-of-sunshine. Always has been. One interaction is enough to make anyone think his childhood was all rainbows and butterflies, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.
“Take it you’re back from Alaska?” I pull Dave out with me and set him on the ground.
“Yessir. Just got back this morning.” A yawn fades out over the line, like he’s pulling the receiver away. When hereturns, it’s to say, “We have to do a boy’s trip up there. It’s nature’s playground. Would love to enjoy it instead of letting it kick my ass in training exercises.”
JJ’s on the fire department’s dive team, and he’s been in Alaska for the last few weeks for some new certification. I’d ask if he got it, but I already know he did. He’s like my younger brother Dawson—born with the type of athletic genes that probably could’ve gotten him into the Olympics. Unlike Dawson, though, he’s developed the grit and ethics to go with it.
I heave my bag out of the back seat and head to the door, Dave trailing me. Something stinks of sweat and engine fuel, and when the scent follows, I’m not surprised to learn I’m the source.
Good thing our tours are all outdoors.
No one comes out clean from a good day’s work.Dad’s words echo in my ears. I’d heard it as a mantra for hard work in my early twenties, but in hindsight, it was an excuse for him to let his hygiene slide.
He let a lot of things slide, toward the end.
“It’s got to be a summer trip, though, right?” I ask.
I’d be geared up for a boy’s trip with JJ in a heartbeat, but I can’t leave the farm in peak season. It’s winter travel for me, only, and even that requires thorough planning and contingencies.
“Yeah,” he says. “So we only got to wait forty years or something ‘til you retire.”
“That’s the cost of free oysters.”
He chuckles. “Trust me, I’m willing to pay it. How’re things at the farm?”
I wedge the phone between my shoulder and ear as I unlock the door. “The usual.” The door opens, and I set mybags down with a labored sigh. Dave waddles past before I close us inside.
“What happened?”
“What do you mean, what happened?”
“Gray, that was a dramatic sigh if I’ve ever heard one.”
I beeline it to the fridge for an ice-cold brew, because he’s right. That was a dramatic sigh. I need to unwind. “Just a little problem I need to work out.” The cap comes off the bottle with a satisfying pop, and I take a long draw.
“If it’d help to blow off some steam, I’ve been wanting to get the boys together to play some ball.” He pauses. “Though me kicking your ass might just piss you off more.”
“Alaska made you delusional,” I say, pulling a leftover burger from the fridge.
“Pick a day, and I’ll take great joy in proving you wrong.”
I laugh at his challenge. JJ and Dawson aren’t the only ones with some athlete in them. We all grew up playing sports, and working on the farm has kept my endurance high and body tough.
“Until then, though, tell me what’s going on.”
The patty goes into the microwave, and I’m digging through the cupboard for a bun as I tell him about the encounter with Eliza this morning. I don’t omit our conversation. JJ knows as well as my brothers that the sainthood everyone knows me for has its limits.
“I’m not surprised Anson went around me, hiring her without consulting me first, but can’t say I’m not angry about it.” The three emails I’d missed didn’t evenaskif I wanted her—just told me to expect my new Social Media Director today.
My fingers find the corner of a plastic bag, and it slips weightlessly into my hands, reminding me a little too latethat I’d eaten the last bun yesterday and was supposed to pick up more today.Great.
