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“Well, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” She smirks, waving her hand around the shop. “What did you expect raising him in a biker gang?” she spits out, looking disgusted at my dad.
“Get out of my shop,” he says calmly.
“Give me the money he stole!” she demands.
Sam reaches into his back pocket and slides out his wallet. Pulling out the cash, he throws it at her feet. “Get out,” he repeats.
“Dad…” I stammer. He doesn’t look at me, but he stares straight at Cheryl.
Cheryl scoffs and bends down to snatch up the cash and stalks back to her Cadilac SUV, mumbling something I can’t hear. She opens the door and turns, and her eyes narrow. “Stay away from my daughter.” She gets in and slams the door.
My dad closes his eyes and looks pissed. “Son.”
“Dad, I didn’t take the money.”
“I know you didn’t. But you have to be careful. People in this town will accuse us of things like this. You have to watch your back.”
“I’m sorry, Dad. I’ll pay you back.”
He just looks at me and shakes his head. “It’s okay.” He turns and goes back to the car he’s working on, and I hate this. I hate that he has to be involved in this and pay for it.
* * *
Callie shows up that night with the sixty dollars in her hand, her eyes red as if she’s been crying. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers.
“What are you sorry for? We didn’t do anything wrong.” I’m still mad about Cheryl coming here, but I know it’s not Callie’s fault.
“She found the missing money tucked underneath the cash drawer in the box. She didn’t know that Mrs. Winters had told us to put the twenties and larger bills under the drawer and keep tens, fives, and ones separate.”
I hung my head, relieved. “She came to the shop and embarrassed my dad in front of his customers, accusing me and Dad of being thieves and in a biker gang.”
“I’m so sorry. She’s horrible.” Callie has tears streaming down her face now.
“Why isn’t she here apologizing to my dad?” I ask, frustrated, throwing up my hands.
She shakes her head. “She’ll never do that. She did give me the money to give back to Sam.”
“It’s not about the money, Callie. It was so embarrassing for my dad. He didn’t say anything and went back to work, but it shouldn’t have happened. Who is going to go tell all the customers that we aren’t thieves after all? She bad-mouthed us. The damage is done.”
“I’m so sorry. I love you.”
“I know,” I rest my forehead on hers. “I love you, otter. It’s not your fault.”
But will it ever be enough for us? We come from different worlds. Her family and most of this town will never accept me, especially not now. People will still gossip about what happened, but they probably won’t find out that it was all a mistake and Cheryl was wrong. They’ll just think I’m a thief. I don’t know what this means for Callie and me moving forward. I can’t lose my best friend. I hate this. But I’m so tired of having to fight to be with her and be accepted in this town. People like the McGraws make it miserable for people like my dad and me. I’m so sick of it.
now
It’s been a long and hard couple of days. When Mrs. Sparks called me out to Oregon, I didn’t realize what she was about to ask of me. And I would never tell her no. The funeral was just as sad as I expected it would be. Saying goodbye to one of my best buddies has exhausted me mentally and emotionally. I swing my truck into my driveway and find Callie’s car parked there.
Seeing Callie’s car in the driveway is like a sign from heaven. Relief and elation zap through my body, knowing she’s here. She’s in the home I dreamed of building for both of us. I have no idea how or why, but if there was ever a day when I needed a break, today is that day. I’ve dreamed of the days Callie and I would be there for each other on our hardest days.
“Harley, it appears we have company,” I told my new friend.
Harley sits up in the seat and looks out the window. I’ve never seen a sadder dog in my life. The funeral was as hard and sad as could be expected. But seeing Sparks’s yellow lab service dog lying next to his flag-draped casket, refusing to leave his side, gutted me. His mom asked if his service dog could come and stay with me. She said it’s what he would have wanted. I couldn’t tell her no.
I’ve never considered myself a dog person, and I’m not sure what to do with this one. She’s been quiet and hardly moved, even as we flew home. People smiled at her in the airport and looked at her curiously in her service dog vest. She walked with her head down and tail tucked under her and stayed next to my leg. She’s barely eaten, and it’s heartbreaking to watch. She just lost her person, and that’s devastating for those of us who do understand it, let alone the dog that doesn’t understand it.
I scratch her head and say, “I know. I miss him, too. This is your new home now. Let’s go meet Rook. Don’t eat him. He’s a good boy.”
