Page 47 of Hammer and Hops

We sat back and repeated that process, catching a couple more as promised. Everett caught two that were too little to keep, and he waved at them as they went back in the water. He caught a couple of bigger cats after that, and so did I. In the end, we had enough to fry, and I called Brock to tell him to meet us at the house.

When we hauled our catch back to our site, we started packing up. “Ever?” I interrupted his packing, pulling him close to me.

“Yeah?”

“I wanted you to know that I had a good time. Camping.” I held him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, and he wound his around my waist.

“I did too. Is it too short? We could stay longer.”

“I don’t mind cutting it short since we have all this fish. Brock’s bringing the beer.”

“I do owe them.”

I kissed his forehead. “We owe them.”

The outside of my house looked like a log cabin, but it was fake. It was a normal, framed house with weird faux-log-cabin siding that was actually concrete. I planned to replace it eventually, but fixing up the inside had been more important.

I helped Everett get the cooler of fish and some other gear out of his car and haul it up my wide porch steps. “Leave that stuff here. We’ll bring the fish to the kitchen.” He dropped what he was carrying, leaving it off to the side, out of the way, then followed me in.

The living room and kitchen were open to each other with a bench seat in the back corner. Nothing special, except maybe the old cast iron stove on the far wall separating the two spaces. I put the cooler on the floor next to the big farmhouse sink and unloaded the fish. “Want to grab some ice?” I gestured to my fridge, and Everett pulled out the ice bucket and dumped it in the sink on top of the fish.

We worked together to clean and prepare the fish, and we were about finished when Brock and Eddy showed up with the beer.

“I’ve got two kinds. IPA from Foggy Basin to drink. And this other off-the-shelf stuff for the batter.” He held up a six-pack, one in each hand.

“Put the good stuff in the fridge. I’ll take the other.” I put the beer on the counter and pulled out other ingredients I’d need from the pantry.

“We also brought coleslaw.” Eddy put that in the fridge next to the beer.

“Perfect. I’m going to make hushpuppies too. Y’all go sit down. Inside or out doesn’t matter.” I gestured to the sliders that led to the back porch. “Might be more room out back.”

They went out, leaving me to make the batter and fry everything up, which didn’t take long since I knew what I was doing. I’d fried up fish like this a million times.

After I got the first batch into my cast-iron skillet, I opened the passthrough window to the back. “Hey, someone call Jay and tell him to get his butt out here.” I’d forgotten my brother, but there was enough fish to feed all of us and still have leftovers.

“On it.” Brock pulled out his phone to make the call, while I finished up.

By the time the fish, hushpuppies, and coleslaw were spread out on the big dining table in my backyard, Jay showed up, bringing more of Everett’s IPA. We cracked open the beer, ate the great food, and talked and laughed together. It felt like family, and even better, Everett’s smile shined like a star. He fit in with my people, and I loved him for it. Sure hoped he’d stick around like he said he would. I wanted a million more days like this.

Everett held up a bottle of beer. “Here’s a toast to Cameron. Great fisherman, great fishing teacher, and well, great all-around guy.”

“Here, here…” Eddy said, while the others said, “Cheers!” at the same time.

I kissed the side of Everett’s head. “Thanks.”

“I meant it. Every word.” He leaned in and kissed me, and everyone else at the table cat-called, whistling and cheering. Everett’s face turned bright red.

Chapter thirty-nine

Brewery Reno – Everett

The single best thing I have ever done in my life was bringing Cameron in to take over the brewery renovations. He was amazing, and with the savings he was able to get from his own connections, plus the GoFundMe money and a small payout from that loser, Mitchell, I could actually pull this off. A hefty amount had been imposed on him when he was convicted, and thankfully, the trial proceedings had been relatively fast. Not that the twat would ever be able to pay all of it, but at least what I did get was helpful.

The work Cameron was doing was incredible, the quality was better than I’d expected, and it was nearly complete. He even replaced the beams, and they looked better than ever. It was great to see him shining. And though I wasn't sure how he found the time, he took a class and got his contractors license during the process. I could not be prouder of him for finally trying to reach his goals. And making mine reachable too.

We would have a grand re-opening, inviting the town to tour the facilities, particularly those who donated. And even better, I had beer pre-orders. Of course, it would take a little longer to get that going, but Lukas and I already had mash ready, using my special hops and the barley stored that didn’t burn, so we were moving forward at a steady pace. Where was he, though?

I walked around, hunting for him, finally finding him out behind the main wall, making sure everything was up to code.