Page 20 of The One I Left Behind

I open the door to The Hidden Cave after my run-in with Gillian. The dark bar is half crowded, a few people are sitting on the saddle seats lining the bar, while most are at one of the tables with friends.

I go outside where Brooks told me he’d be. There’s a small stage where they have live bands during the summer months, along with lines of picnic tables and a cut-out from a silo that’s been made into a circular bar. There are bartenders, but no waitresses. It’s a get-your-own-drink-and-find-a-seat kind of place.

“Benny!” Brooks shouts and raises his hand. He’s got a group around him, but as I draw closer, I realize he’s at a table with my two cousins, Lottie and Romy.

“Girls,” I say, kissing each of them on the cheek with a side hug.

“Great, Ben’s here, so bye-bye Brooks.” Lottie waves at him, picking up her beer and concentrating on Romy.

“What am I missing?” I ask, stealing Romy’s beer. She tries to take it back, but I hold her wrist with my hand and take a sip. Gillian has me messed up in the head, and I need a drink.

“You’re not missing anything. It’s girls’ night,” Lottie says.

I slide in and bump Romy’s hip with mine. She huffs but doesn’t fight me. “Well, as your cousin who just got back to town, I’m gonna have to end girls’ night.”

Lottie glances at Brooks. “Only if you tell me if what’s on the wall is true?”

The three of them laugh.

I’m the only one in the dark, but I have a good guess. “Please say you’re shittin’ me.”

Lottie shakes her head, about to spit out her beer.

“Go have a look,” Romy says with a smile.

I groan and stand because I’m a curious fucker.

“I’ll go with you for moral support.” Brooks stands and claps me on the shoulder. “Then we’ll get some shots in you.”

“That bad?” I turn around, but Brooks pushes me forward.

There are two walls in The Hidden Cave. Canary Wall one and Canary Wall two. Canary Wall one is inside, and you have to submit your gossip cards to an employee who puts them up under glass so that no one can take them down and rip them to shreds. Canary Wall two is outside and more anonymous because it doesn’t have the glass casing. It’s a post located right next to the silo bar, and Melvin, the owner’s son, has long been a permanent fixture at the end of the bar. Which is what’s led to the beer belly stretching his blue jean overalls.

“Hey, Melvin,” I say, approaching the wall and ignoring all the rest of the eyes on me.

“Benny, heard you were back. One day you have to come and sit next to me and tell me what it’s like outside of Willowbrook.” Melvin stares at the board then me, raising his bushy dark eyebrows.

Melvin will probably never leave Willowbrook. He’s unmarried and sits at the bar almost every night, talking to anyone who approaches him. He’s turned into a therapist of sorts from what Emmett told me a few years ago.

Brooks sits down next to Melvin. “The poor guy forgot what it was like here.” He laughs and asks the bartender for two shots of whiskey and a beer for me.

One good thing about retirement is I don’t have to worry about my weight. No one but me cares if I gain twenty pounds or lose ten anymore.

“The notes have been coming in hot. Just like the old days, you and Gillian are the hot topic,” Melvin says.

I scan all the three-by-five cards written in an array of different handwriting. From girly script to men’s scribble, each one divulges gossip about someone in town. Originally, the Canary Wall was only used for newsworthy events. Things like the Turner family welcomed a new bull. Or if a road was going to be closed for road work. Maybe someone lost their cat. It was a way to get the word out. But at some point when I was younger, it turned into pure gossip. Although everyone says they hate it, it doesn’t stop anyone.

I find the card about me front and center.

* * *

I saw Gillian run away from Ben in The Farm Fresh parking lot after they stared at each other for at least three minutes. I think the old feelings only wilted. With a little water (a.k.a. groveling from Ben), maybe their love can sprout again!

* * *

“I don’t get why people feel the need to write this shit. Who cares if we saw one another while I was on a fucking float?” I sit on the other side of Brooks and don’t wait to cheers him before I down my shot then grab my beer.

“This town doesn’t have anything to gossip about that doesn’t involve some sort of love connection except for how the Crawfords got all their money after they’ve been dirt poor forever.” Melvin pushes his empty glass over to a blonde bartender I’m not familiar with.

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