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1
MITCH
Chaos.
That’s the only way I can describe the scene in front of me.
I’m sitting around the fire at my friend Brody’s farm, drinking the cider he makes on site from the apples he grows, thinking I was coming to a barbecue with some friends.
Instead—chaos.
Is this normally how I spend my days off? Being the only single guy at a barbecue filled with families? No, but you can’t live in Logan Creek and escape being drawn into their circles, even if it does make you the odd man out.
I watch as Brody’s eighteen-month-old son, Noah, runs through the grass, screaming as if the world were on fire. Our buddy Travis’ daughter, Amelia, is following him around, like the self-appointed leader that he is, acting as if they are going into battle.
A baby cries. I’m not sure if it’s Travis’ little one or the other baby here, but it’s loud and high-pitched.
The women are all chatting around a table under the shade of a tree, laughing while Travis and Brody man the barbecue.
I’m not bothered by the noise. I’m a partner in the local brewery in town. Noise is what I’m used to. What I’m not used to is the chasing and herding of the children that comes with this category of noise.
I look over at Dyllan Thompson, the town mayor and resident grump, wondering how he’s staying so calm and unaffected by it all. If anyone, he’s the least likely to be in a yard of screaming children, casually drinking as if he was alone at a lake.
“You’re staring,” he says, taking a sip of his beer while not taking his eyes off of his wife and daughter under the tree.
“I’m just wondering how you’re so immune to…this,” I say, tilting my bottle of cider at everyone.
“This?” he repeats.
“The…chaos.” I take a sip of my cider, dismayed it’s the last. “I dunno, man. A lot has changed in the time since I moved to Logan Creek. I for sure never saw you settling down and having a kid.”
Dyllan’s gaze travels once more to his wife Skylar and their baby, Bella. “Things change,” is the only answer I get out of him,
“Hmph,” I respond, not knowing what else to say.
“Hey, man. You want another?” Travis asks with a smile as he stands at the cooler.
I stand from my chair, empty bottle in hand, as I walk toward him. “Yeah, thanks.” I’m grateful for the opportunity to break from whatever heart-to-heart that was with Dyllan. Or at least, that’s as close as you get with him.
I walk to Travis, tossing my bottle in the bag designated for empties on the way.
“You look like you need another one,” Travis laughs, handing me a fresh, cold cider.
“Is it that obvious?” I laugh, twisting the cap and taking a sip.
“That you’re a single guy surrounded by married couples and their kids? Most definitely.”
“Thanks for inviting me, though. It’s been a long time since I’ve done anything other than sleep on my day off.”
“Maybe you should tell Zach to stop working you so hard.”
“Coming from the cop?” Brody says, glancing at Travis, eyebrow raised. He continues flipping the burgers and drinking his own cider.
“Like you’re one to talk, farmer?” Travis retorts.
“We’re all a group of workaholics…”
“Hey, I’ve been taking it slower…sorta,” Travis says defensively, taking a sip of his beer.
