Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 100988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 505(@200wpm)___ 404(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 505(@200wpm)___ 404(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Chad’s face lights up with hope. “So what do I gotta do, then?”
I shrug as I blithely back away to the doors. “Who knows? I haven’t decided yet. I guess that’s your burden to bear.”
Chad stares at me, his mouth half-open, clueless.
And that’s precisely how I leave him: at a total loss for words, unsatisfied, and sputtering dumbly.
6
Talk of the Town
Okay, the hotel bed isn’t the most comfortable.
The TV has such a weak signal, I feel like it’s trapped in 1991.
There is a seriously funky smell coming from the bathroom vents, and a groaning noise in the walls whenever I use the sink.
But I only have to stay here one more night, and then I’m on a red-eye Sunday night back to my life in California.
To face Salvador.
And Richie.
And whatever unspeakable things they’ve done to my apartment.
Feeling peckish, I try to remember which place I liked as a kid that had the sweetest, tastiest crepes I have ever eaten, as I head down the loud, creaky stairs (the elevator is broken indefinitely, apparently) and head for the doors.
The voice of Virginia at the front desk stops me. “So what’s goin’ on between you and Chad, huh?”
I turn. “What?”
“Mindy said she saw you two head out of the mixer together last night.”
I really, really don’t miss small towns. “I don’t see how that’s anyone’s business but mine and Chad’s.”
Virginia’s eyebrows fly halfway up her forehead. “Touchy, are we? Somethin’ good must’ve happened, then.” She leans over the counter and lowers her voice. “Did you give him words? Did you really let him have it? He was a total jerk to you back in school, wasn’t he? Am I rememberin’ that right?”
I have to stare at Virginia for a long while to know whether or not she’s kidding. She graduated with me. She had classes with me. She knows exactly what I went through.
Or is it really so far in the backseat of everyone’s minds, the torment I faced, that she actually has to ask me whether Chad was a jerk or not?
I come halfway back to the counter. “He wanted to talk.”
“But you two left. In his truck.”
“We had a lot to talk about.”
“Where did you two go?”
Goodness, the gall of this woman. “Virginia …”
“What?? I’m bored. It’s boring. I’m impatiently waiting for my shift to end, for my replacement to get here, and for five tonight when the reunion starts. I need something on my mind to pass the time, and I’ve been waitin’ for you to come down from your room so we can discuss this whole thing with you and Chad.”
“But there isn’t anything to discuss.” I spread my hands. “I’m sorry to let you down. We left and got a couple drinks. We talked and caught up. That’s it.”
“That’s it.” She frowns, disappointed.
I squint at her. “What else were you expecting? We kissed and made up? We kissed literally?”
That last one makes her laugh. “Oh, now don’t be ridiculous.” Another wave of laughter bubbles up from her chest. “Literal kiss? Goodness, you are too much, Lance! Why weren’t we better friends back in school? Oh, you’re such a hoot!”
I don’t want to read too much into why that made her laugh—whether she thinks it’s funny that someone as far-removed from Spruce as me could ever get a guy like him, or if the idea of him being anything but a straight, bullying-prone man whore to be so hilarious as to warrant a bellyful of laughter.
I let her off the hook regardless of the interpretation. “If you don’t mind, I’m starved and need some breakfast. Do you know the place with the really great crepes?”
“Country Lovin’. Right down the street from Spruce Fellowship. Ask for Timothy, he’s one of the Loves who own the joint. Tell him I sent you, he’ll give you the Lovin’ discount.”
I nod at her. “Thanks.”
On my way out, she calls out at my back: “Hey, and if you run into Mindy or that rascal Billy, tell them they owe me a platter dish after breakin’ mine last night at the mixer!”
That sounds like a story I don’t have time to hear.
And am glad I missed witnessing, since I left early with Chad.
The air is warm and thick, like a sweaty, woolen sock. I forgot how humid Texas gets this time of the year. I’ve only been walking five minutes and I already have back sweat and half a farmer’s tan, I’m sure.
A truck approaches that makes my heart skip a beat, because it looks just like Chad’s. But when it passes by, I realize it’s an old man and his wife driving, both of whom shoot me a cheery-faced look. I don’t know what I did to earn that.
Or maybe I’ve just forgotten how friendly everyone here is.
I’m not used to so much eye contact. Sprucians (Sprucites? Sprucers? Is there even an official name for a Spruce citizen?) are very observant, watchful people. They pay attention to everything. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s some crazy guy with a watchdog at the end of the street who sits on a creaky rocking chair in his lawn and keeps a daily journal of every small thing that goes on in town. My arrival would probably be scribbled into that journal, top of the page: “Weirdo from out of town is back for his high school reunion. Reunited with Chad and went out to his ranch. He is now on his way to eat the most delicious crepes of his life.”