Page 67 of Totally Fanatic

“It is cute, and it’s why I want to be able to read the comments.”

“But you know some will not be cute.”

“Yes. But they should be.”

“Why?”

“Why should people not be assholes?”

“No, why do all the things people say have to be cute?”

I don’t have an answer for that other than because I said so, and seeing as I hated whenever my mother used to say that to me whenever I questioned her, I am not going to use it now. He’s right, people can post whatever they want on an open social platform. That’s the point of it. Free speech and all that jazz.

“I guess they don’t have to be. But you have to admit, it would be nice. What are you up to? I was going to see if you wanted to come to game night tomorrow night at my place with the guys?”

“I’m at a Bunnies task helping pack up some things for the woman who lives here. Her husband passed away, and she’s ready to clear out what she calls hiscollection of crap. I don’t think she really views it that way, though, because we go through it all, everything she hands me has a story, a connection to their life together. They were married for sixty-nine years. Can you imagine?”

“Wow, that has to be rough being with someone that long only to lose them.”

“Yeah, but better than never having that time with them at all.”

He’s right, and it’s totally like Lion to see it that way, too. To see the positive, the joy in something so sad. Here I am wallowing in the mud of a few random people’s opinions and he’s out in the world helping people go through real shit.

“I’m glad you can help her out. Do you want to maybe grab dinner after? I was thinking we order in from Riverside Barbeque.”

“Your place or mine?”

“I’ve kept you away from the boys enough this week, so let’s go with your place. Besides, I want to see what else you have in that treasure box of yours.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

“See you tonight.”

Chapter twenty-four

LION

Mrs. Shannon and herhusband had been together since they were seventeen, and he had kept every little thing that reminded him of her. It was so sweet the way she would open another old tin to find every movie ticket from every cinema they ever went to inside. I thought it was only the inside of her place that she needed help with, but when she took me out back, I saw a giant two-car garage waiting.

“This might take another day or two,” I say as she unlocks the padlock from the door.

“There’s not that much in here. A few old car parts one of the boys from church is going to come and pick up, and Big Bertie. I was hoping you could wheel him out the front. Someone will take him, I’m sure.”

“Big Bertie?”

She swings open the door and there in the shed is what looks like a fuel tank lying on a trailer.

“Walt had these grand plans way back when to smoke his own meats. We pulled this thing behind our old wagon all theway from Austin, Texas, twenty years ago and it sat in this shed unused ever since.”

“It’s a smoker?”

“Yep, one of them huge ones. Five-hundred or something. Every year, I’d ask him to sell it or give it away, and every year, he’d claim it was the year he was going to finally use it, but never did.”

“And you want to just give it away?” I ask her, then it hits me. Maybe this is the kind of one Tim could use for his food truck.

“Seems like someone would want it. Do you think you can pull the trailer out to the front? It looks bigger than I remember now that I look at it. We might need a car. You got a car?”

“Sorry, no. I ride a bicycle.”

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