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“Yeah, some could, but we all know how that turned out.”
Looking inside the cab, he says, “She’s in good shape.”
“I didn’t get a good look yesterday, but she always was.”
He barks out a laugh. “The truck. Your mom has kept her in good shape.”
“Oh, yeah. She keeps her in the garage and drives her around every now and again.”
Silence slips in, an awkwardness that never used to exist back in high school. He finally says, “About yesterday—”
Leaning forward, I look through the windshield. “I should get back. It’s gonna rain.”
Looking up at the sky, he says, “You need help getting that wood covered?”
“Nah. I got it.”
Backing up, he says, “Beers later? I’ll even bring the fancy stuff.”
Considering I have no idea how long I’m staying, I keep thinking it’s best if I keep the people at a distance. But he makes me laugh, and I could use a few more. “Yeah, come over later. I don’t know about fancy. I’ll drink a Pabst or Bud with you if you prefer.”
His keys jingle as he shoves them in his pocket. “I’ll bring some over.”
“Cool.” I shift the truck into reverse and look through the back window. “Come by whenever.”
He taps the top of the truck. “See ya, man.”
Eyeing those gray clouds in the sky, I should head straight back, but my better senses left me the minute I found out Delilah’s divorced. I take the scenic route out toward her house. There’s a white truck parked in front of the Noelle house when I drive by the farm. It’s not practical in color, and the rain is going to ruin that just washed shine, but if that truck’s hers, I like that she’s damning the elements of this town. If it’s not . . . I swallow hard, my ego caught like a lump in my throat.
I keep driving, wanting to get the wood unloaded before the rain sets in.
5
Jason
After unloading the back of the truck and covering everything with a tarp, Billy pulls up. “Perfect timing,” I say sarcastically.
“You didn’t want my help, remember?” He’s got a six-pack of Heineken in one hand, so he’s forgiven.
Since he has a bouquet in the other, I add, “If you’re looking to get laid, you came to the wrong house.”
“I brought your mother the flowers, fucker.”
I cross my arms over my chest defensively. “Umm, back up there. Why?”
He starts laughing. “I’m not hitting on your mom. She may be pretty, but yeah, not my speed.” He hands me the beer. “Brought your girly beer for you. The flowers are for the last time I was here. I ran over her flower bed, and she was pissed.”
Chuckling, I say, “I remember that.”
“Figured I’d make amends. Better late than never.”
Amends. Can a sinner of my stature make amends, or am I a boot too deep into hell already? I force my thoughts back to the here and now. “Come on.”
After he schmoozes my mom with the flowers, we pop the top on two beers and grab a seat out back. He sits on the patio steps, and I sit on a plastic white chair near the rusting swing where I used to sit with Delilah.
Her fingerprints are still on every part of my old life. It’s only a dumb swing from my childhood, but the only memories I seem to recall are the ones where she sat next to me, resting her cheek against the cold metal while the tips of her sneakers dug into the dirt.
She’d been the only one who could get me to open up about my feelings. I shared so much with her—my fears about football, the loss of my father, my worries about my mom. We saw shooting stars sitting on this swing. We laughed, and we fell in love. I thought those times mattered to her like they did me, but I guess having your first love break your heart is just another part of growing up.
One good thing about Billy is he never needed to fill the quiet. I didn’t, either. Still don’t. We talk when we have something worth mentioning. Other than that, it’s just good to have the company. I finally ask, “What are you doing these days?”
“I’m part-time coaching out at the high school. Assisting the offensive line coach.”
“No shit?”
He laughs. “Yeah, no shit. The extra money saved my parents’ place from foreclosure.”
“What’s going on with the farm?”
“They were turned down a few years back for an extension on a loan. I was already full-time at the plant in Cedars, so I sold my stuff, moved back home, and added coach onto the résumé.”
“Sorry to hear about your folks. How’s everything now?”
“Good. Besides the coaching, I’m still working at the plant but moved to supervisor, and I help a friend out on their farm as much as I can. We gotta look out for our neighbors.”
