Page 6 of Eternally Devoted

This morning, on my route, all I can seem to focus on is how much sense the two of them make together.

The hunky young cop that Bluebell adores and the absolutely gorgeous jam maker. They make sense together. Nowhere in that equation is there room for the soft, middle-aged trashman.

Neither of them has ever made mention of wanting to date each other, and like me and Juni, I’ve yet to see Dash and Juni breach friendship. Still, he’s talked about her more lately. After he broke the law for her by letting her sister off the hook a fewweeks back, I have to wonder if they’d explore a deeper bond if I weren’t a continual third wheel.

I know we love spending time together, but I can’t help but circle back on the idea that they’d find a traditional life together if I wasn’t always hanging around. I don’t know for a fact that they want that, but how could they not? I see the way he looks at her. I share that look. Iknowthat look.

“Morning, Sterl,” Lucy calls from the street as she drops a tied-off black garbage bag into the can. With my window down, I lean out and smile.

“Hey, Luc, how are you this week? How’s your mom doing?” Pushing the lever, the mechanical claw snatches the trash can, the faded white letters reading GOODE’S smooshing together. While I’m emptying, Lucy smooths her hands down her apron, smiling.

“Oh, she’s good. Listen, hang on for a sec, we have fresh bear claws. I’ve got two wrapped up for ya inside,” she says, scurrying inside before I can protest.

I love bear claws. Dash’s breakfast was two hours ago but my stomach has been begging for the last two stops. She returns, holding out a white baggie for me to grab. I reach out the window, pinching the edge of my t-shirt so it doesn’t rise as I take the bag. I can do anything while holding my t-shirt down, I’ve had years of practice.

Opening the bag, the scent of almond paste hits my nose, making my mouth water. “Thanks, Lucy, these look incredible,” I say, peering inside. She smiles.

“Tell me how they were when I see you next week.”

After lowering the second empty can to the street, I wave goodbye, and head toward the next stop. While the truck dumps the hardware store can, I reach across the cab and push my glovebox till it pops open. Inside are three small jars of Juni’sjam. My “on the go” jam, as she calls it. Farmers market samplers.

I’ve always been a man to keep condiments in the glovebox, but never jam until Juni.

Dunking the end of the bear claw into Juni’s Carrot Cake Marmalade, I take a bite, my face and chest tingling from how good it is, from the comfort it brings.

I should urge Dash and Juniper to spend time together, without me. Though as I imagine telling Dash that I’m trying to give him a chance at a real thing with Juni, I can hear him arguing, telling me no. For him to make a move, I’ll have to remove myself on my own, or else they’ll never take the leap. I’m holding them back from what can be a wonderful life. I know I am. They’re just too shy or sweet to tell me.

Late nights and long mornings in bed, coffee and pancakes in the nude, shared fears and secrets, wedding bells and birth announcements—they can have all that if I remove myself. And as much as I love Juniper and Dash, they deserve something more than board games and bowling. They want more and I’m stopping them.

I know what I need to do. Sometimes you have to let go of those you love, knowing they may not come back.

That’s the definition of love.

Crumpling the wax paper, I pluck a crumb from my shirt and take a drink of Coke. Dash’s sandwich was absolutely fucking amazing, as always. He’s a great chef, and baker, too. Juniper makes the best jam, and a fucking killer cup of coffee. And her homemade ice cream? TDF.

To die for.

Sliding my phone from my pocket, I’m about to text Dash privately when I see I already have a message waiting from him. And not in our group thread.

Can we talk tonight?

Energy courses through me, directionless, leaving my pulse spiked. I text him back.

Sterling

Sure.

This has to be about Juniper. The timing is strange but maybe he’s ready to ask her out? Maybe he wants to ask me if I’m cool with it? Something in my chest goes a little wonky at that thought, but I swallow it down with my last warm sip of Coke while forcing my gaze out the open window. Sucking in a lungful of Bluebell’s fresh air, I decide right then and there to be happy for them.

I knew, deep down, this was coming.

I never made a move on her.

She never made one on me.

That speaks volumes. How could I expect that they wouldn’t fall for each other? I shift my truck into drive, and head toward the sanitation plant, done with my pickups and ready to call it a day.

On my way home, I’m gonna stop by the Eat O Rama market and grab a twelve-pack of beer.

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