Page 7 of The Light We Lost

“Nolan!”

I swallowed, hiding my unease with a smile as I caught sight of Charlie across the building in the game room. He waved his arms wide, as though I couldn’t see him past the crowd on the dance floor. Dude was as big as a grizzly. “Nolan, over here!”

I hesitated. I didn’t want to be here any longer than necessary. I eyed the bar counter, and after failing to find Heath, the owner, I crossed the room. “You’re just in time,” Charlie said, like no time had passed since we’d last hung out. Probably because we’d known each other since we were kids. “I need your help in pool. Lisa’s wiping the table with my ass.”

“Nothing new there.” I trailed him to the game room, a low railing separating it and the dance floor. “I can’t stay and play—”

“Look who I found,” he shouted, loud enough to be heard over the music and conversations edging on the side of arguments. Gazes slowly turned my way, and my unease grew. “What did I tell you, Lisa? Tonight’s my night. I’m going to kick your ass.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Her voice held nothing but confidence, similar to how she carried herself. Her skin was brown, her frame tall and lean. Her dark hair was slung up atop her head, and I assumed from her tank top and athletic shorts, she’d been coaching soccer before coming here. It would be a shame if the rumor circulating through town about the school cutting all sports programs turned out to be true. “I always beat you. Regardless if Nolan’s on your team or not.”

Charlie tugged on Lisa’s ponytail, and she swatted him on the chest. For a moment, it felt like I’d traveled a decade back to when I was in high school. The feeling grew as I glanced around the pool table at several of my classmates, some older, some younger. There were two types of folks who’d grown up in Wallowpine. There were those who ran like hell, and those who wound up here forever.

I was a lifer.

Lisa wrapped an arm around my waist, giving me a squeeze. “Long time no see.”

“I know.” I mustered up my most apologetic smile. “I’ve been busy.”

She raised a brow, but before she could call me out, Charlie said, “Grab a stick and get warmed up, man. I’ll get you a beer.”

I shook my head, taking a step back. “I’ve gotta get going. Sorry.”

“Don’t look so beat up about it, Charlie.” Sam, one of my high school buddies, leaned against the pool table, a beer beside him. He picked it up and took a big swig, amber liquid dripping down his chin and onto his collar. “Nolan’s too good to slum with us.”

I straightened at that. There was a time I was Ye Olde Trusty Tavern’s most loyal customer, but not anymore. “Nah.” I grinned, brushing off his comment. He knew I wasn’t too good for anything. “I just like hanging out with my niece. She’s cuter than you, and sometimes she shares her snacks.”

“She’s so adorable.” Lisa wrapped her arms around Charlie’s waist. “I keep asking him for one, but he tells me no.”

“I’m telling you, Lisa,” he started, “you won’t think those babies are so cute once you see their head spin around and they scream all night.”

I laughed, unable to deny he spoke some truth. My niece was a total sour patch. She was one and a half, and already I’d seen some monstrous fits. But she was sweet to me, and besides, some sour had never scared me.

I pulled out my phone and switched it on, letting Lisa flip through my photos of Wren—except we called her Winnie—nothing but pride in my heart as she beamed over her. I was so distracted, I nearly missed it when Sam said, “You need to be smart like Nolan. He’s got the perfect gig.”

I pocketed my phone. “What do you mean?”

“Come on, you’ve got the best of both worlds. You hang out with your brother and that pretty wife and daughter of his, but at the end of the day, you go home to that big house alone.” He took a swig of his beer. “You’re a bachelor who gets to play happy family.”

My jaw ticked, and I found myself eyeing Charlie’s whiskey. But rather than reminiscing on that bitter burn, I said, “What can I say? I’ve got it made.”

“Now I understand why you’re too scared to play pool.” Sam grabbed a cue down from the wall. “You’re probably rusty after playing dress-up and Barbies all day.”

Winnie was too young to show much interest in Barbies and dress-up, but I didn’t bother to explain that. Because as Sam held the stick out to me, I recognized it for what it was. A challenge.

A thrill shot through me, both at the idea of feeling something and of winning.

It had been a long time since I’d done either.

I grabbed the cue stick. “Do I need to put on a tutu and crown, or is it alright if I beat you without ’em?”

He grinned, and I rounded the table. Despite Lisa and Charlie being an item, she teamed up with Sam. Charlie slapped my back, beaming that we were playing again.

Just like old times.

But no matter how many balls I sunk, or the number of smiles I forced, nothing filled the gaping hole inside me. “Sam”—I set up the cue—“you should probably text your mom and let her know you’re going to be home late. Wouldn’t want your bathwater to get cold.”

“I’d tell you the same, but your bathwater has been cold since the day your mama left you.”

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