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26
One
The ass-crackof dawn comes too soon. Before I know it, Addy is hugging me, handing me a to-go cup of hot coffee and pushing me out the door. The movers will be here tomorrow to load up all my things and bring them to Fairview.
Along with my things will be Addy’s things, apparently.
As of last night, she’s moving too. I’m not sure if it’s because of her feelings for Jones or the fact she doesn’t want to leave me and Lola, but I don’t really care. I’m happy she’s coming along for the ride and I know Jones is ecstatic.
“Drive safe,” she hollers after me.
“You too,” I reply. “See you soon.”
Addy has a lot to get done in the next twenty-four hours. She has to pack her entire apartment, cancel all her utilities and everything else that it took me almost two weeks to do. Thankfully, Jones is here to do the heavy lifting and Addy is a wiz when it comes to multi-tasking.
In fact, she’s a wiz with a great many things and as I make the short four-hour drive home, I find a way to put all her talent to use in Fairview. Talents that compliment my own.
The ideas come rushing at me full-force. So many are running through my head, I pull out my phone and start recording my own voice as I drive. I’ll listen to it later if I forget anything.
When I finally pull into town, it’s almost noon. I contemplate stopping at Becky’s to see Lola, even though Wyatt asked me not to. To keep myself from going, I stop at the Tavern to relay a message to Wyatt.
When I open the doors, I’m surprised to find a decent crowd of people, the hum of conversation floating around me. So this is the lunch rush?
“What are you doing here?” I hear Wyatt ask. When I turn, I find him with a rag slung over his shoulder and a tub full of dirty dishes resting on his hip.
“I have a message for you from Jones,” I state.
“I don’t have time for messages from him right now. We’re getting our ass kicked.” Just as he finishes his statement, the door opens behind me and four teenagers walk in. “Grab a table. We’ll be right over.”
“Would you like an extra set of hands?” I ask, wiggling my “spirit fingers” at him as he used to call them.
Wyatt’s grin spreads and he shakes his head at me. “Do you really think you can handle this? Remember last time?”
“You have to let that go,” I scoff. “I was seventeen and thought I could do anything.”
“You dropped an entire tray of food on the floor.”
“I have better balance now.”
“Fine. Follow me and I’ll get you set up.”
Wyatt gives me an apron and a pen and sends me over to the table where the teenagers sat down. I take their order and give it to the kitchen before bringing them their drinks. Another table walks in and I greet them as they sit down.
This continues for around an hour before the place is empty. Dirty, but empty. Tables are covered in glasses and baskets of leftover food. Grabbing a tray from the kitchen, I start loading it up, clearing one table at a time.
“Nice job,” he says, picking up the tray with ease and resting it on his shoulder. “Thanks for your help.”
“No problem. You looked like you needed it.”
“Yeah, well, with Jones disappearing and Old Town opening next weekend, I haven’t had time to hire someone else so I’ve been working all his shifts.”
“Speaking of Jones…” I begin, treading carefully.
“Unless it’s good news, I don’t really want to hear it.”
“He’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Really?” His surprise is evident.
