AllFreeNovel
Share Us
As I left the store, I spotted a debit card in the mud next to where Solia had been parked. I figured it must be hers and so I went back inside to leave it with Gerry. I didn’t expect him to know who she was or where she lived. Even though my day was jam-packed with errands and a never-ending list of farm chores, I figured this was as good a reason as any to see her again. I could certainly make time for those ass cheeks—I mean, returning that woman’s debit card.
I pull up to the address Gerry gave me and hear music blaring from the side deck. I make my way around the cabin and am pleasantly surprised to see the lady of the house has lost her clothes somewhere between the hardware store and the deck. Her long, thick hair, freed from its bun, flies about her head as she dances, truly in the zone. She drops her hand to the deck and starts twerking in my direction. I almost lose it—I envision riding up behind her and sliding into home plate.
Then, she spots me and her face immediately reddens. I freeze, and the referee calls the out. The slam of the shower door brings me back to the present and I’m standing here with a hard-on. I eventually mutter something about Gerry and the debit card, but she doesn’t respond. She must be more humiliated than I am, so I apologize, trying to make the situation less awkward.
When she still doesn’t acknowledge me, I assume I should leave.
I get back to my truck and spot myself grinning ear to ear in the rearview mirror, and there’s more to it than catching Solia on the deck in her birthday suit. I can’t remember the last time I felt this present. I’ve been moping around this town with my head in a storm cloud for the past nine months, and this is the first time in a very long time that I’ve smiled this big.
Anyone in Meriden would say I went from being one of the town bachelors to someone they felt sorry for. Women used to see a hardworking farmer with muscles—at least, that’s what I’ve been told. Now they see a tragedy.
Sometimes when bad things happen, the world changes their perception of a person. Everything I was before vanished that day. When they see me now, they see Trinity, and there is nothing I can do to alter that reality. Instead of trying, I keep to myself. Working at the family orchard every day provides me with more than enough to keep busy, and luckily, the drama in Shannon’s life is currently front and center.
I love my sister, but I’m as excited as she is about her divorce being finalized. Getting rid of Richard has been a long time coming. The damn asshole needs to sign the papers and get this thing over with. I’m not sure what pleasure he’s getting from dragging out this saga. She deserves a medal for putting up with him for the last four years. Thankfully, they didn’t start a family, so she can walk away with a clean slate. Thinking of others and putting herself last had to stop. One can only put up with a drunk for so long before it exacts a toll.
Rich tried to get sober more than once, but Shannon reached her breaking point. Hopefully, we get word he signed soon and she’ll finally be free. Richard’s taking this pretty hard. Thankfully, her soon-to-be ex-husband accepted a job in the next town over. I’m hoping she can find some peace along the shores of Newfound during the rest of her summer vacation before she returns to the classroom in September.
I spend the day at the orchard using the flail mower to trim the overgrown grass but can’t get Solia off my mind. Fields need tending, but I can’t focus for the first time in forever. I do as much as I can manage, but at the end of the day, I’m not ready to go home.
I ease down Main Street and think how many times I’ve traveled this road on autopilot, never remembering how I got from point A to point B. But tonight is different. I have a renewed view of this little town. I turn on West Shore Road as the crimson sun dips behind Mount Cardigan, turning the clouds a deep burnt orange, appearing to set the mountaintops ablaze.
My grandparents never lost sight of the magic within this place; their lives began here and will end here. Newfound is a permanent part of their souls. I always thought my life would mirror theirs, that Earl and Sylvia’s shoes were mine to fill.
But last Labor Day weekend, the magic of this place dissolved.
Life has taught me sometimes your path will take a sudden sharp turn, leading you in the opposite direction, whether you see it coming or not. A few months ago, I decided to move to New York in the fall. I still remember the shock I felt three years ago when my parents announced they were leaving New Hampshire for upstate New York to pursue hard cider production. My father’s ambition to expand the family business couldn’t be squashed.
And no one could deny the potential of this latest venture. The popularity of hard cider has exploded in the last decade, especially from independent breweries. It’s now the most popular drink among twenty- to thirty-year-olds. Using the apples from our orchard, my father now helms East Coast Cider, one of the most lucrative, independently owned hard cider breweries in New England.
After the past nine months, it’s best to trade in a tractor for a clipboard.
I’m going to hold on tight to the last bits of happiness Meriden offers because I’m not sure how New York will compare. I can always visit. My family will still be here. But I’ve committed to my father, and this move is happening.
Instead of heading home, I make a pit stop at the Binn. My buddies continually harass me to meet them for a beer after work, and I keep standing them up. Not because I don’t want to see them, but because our group will never be whole again. Nights at the Binn were once a regular occurrence for us, the five hardworking townies the locals expected to see enjoying a few beers and horsing around. But since last September …
The guys have been relentless, texting before every get-together, and each time they ask, I come up with an even more outrageous excuse than the last. They know I’m full of shit, but no one has the balls to call me out on it.
As I step inside, wooden barn doors swinging behind me, I take in the familiar sight of my bar, my neighbors. Old, rustic lanterns burning low hang from the exposed beams, giving the place that cozy dive-bar vibe. Wooden tables are tucked in each alcove, and Tom Petty flows through the invisible sound system. Behind the bar, Cindy fills a pint for me before I even make it across the room. My wooden stool is mid-swing as Jay, Ryan, and Tyler turn their heads in unison.
“No shit, look what the cat dragged in.” Jay’s smile says it all. He looks equal parts surprised and proud. “We knew you couldn’t stay away forever. Happy you’re here, man.”
Ryan and Tyler both nod and grin. I see sadness flicker briefly before parting to make room for joy.
Cindy slides a pint across the oak bar. “You hungry? Or are we just drinking?”
“I’ll have my usual.”
My friends look at one another, and my response stuns them into silence.
“You got it. Mike, grab the man a steak and cheese, hold the mushroom.” She turns her head to the line cook who’s worked here for more years than we can count. Some things never change.
“Bro, it’s good to see you here. Why tonight?” Tyler asks as he slides his stool toward me.
Ryan clears his throat and steps closer to Tyler. “Dude, enjoy it? Who cares what finally got his ass in here. Let’s skip the heavy talk and shoot the shit.”
I shake my head in relief, thankful that Ryan stepped in, wanting nothing more than to let loose. Certainly not as loose as the scene I witnessed earlier, which won’t stop playing in my mind, but loose enough to smile and enjoy the company of others. The laughter that erupted from me earlier reignited a spark, a tiny little flame that makes me stop and wonder … maybe not all hope is lost.
Three hours and three pints later, my stomach aches from the jokes, the roasts, and the “remember when” stories. I can’t think of a time when I didn’t have my boys around—we’ve been together forever. I’ve always understood how lucky I am to have these guys, to be sure that when shit hits the fan, I can count on them. And damn, I’ve missed these nights. I am thankful Ryan has been sober for two years and can drive my drunk ass home. It won’t be the first time we leave a truck in the Binn lot.
