Page 8 of Nothing Ever Happens Here

“It means his heinie, his butt, Herb. You should read a book sometime,” Mort continues, reading the copy ofThe Wind in the Willowshe plucked from a shelf.

“You read about guys with nice peaches in those books? No thanks.”

“Why are you looking at Billy Curran?” I ask.

“Because I saw him go into The Angry Trout and I said, ‘It’s not even 7:00 a.m., a little early, don’t you think?’ And he said he’s doing some renovations. Did you know about this? He said he’s taking over the bar.I didn’t even know he was back. He lives in Milwaukee. Linda Curran told me that Lou would rather be buried alive than step down from running the Trout.” Shelby walks away from the window, exasperated, and looks at what her girls are pointing out in the glass case. She sits them at a table with apple muffins and pours herself a cup of coffee.

“No school today and they’re still up with the roosters,” she says, chugging the first few sips of coffee. “So, seriously what the hell? It’s gotta be big news that nice-peach Billy is back. I haven’t heard a thing. Lou didn’t die, did he?” Shelby asks, propping herself on a bar stool, pouring stevia packets into her mug.

“No,” I say. “Billy’s been in and out of town a lot for the last year or more, helping out. Lou can barely see anymore and Linda is never at the bar. It’s overrun by college bartenders they hire, giving away shots by the dozen, so it’s probably a good thing he’s finally stepping in.”

“Yeah, all that is good and well,” Shelby says, “but it’s weird. Why would he leave the city and his job…and does this mean Nora is gonna be at the bar now? Christ. It’s the only good bar in town. She’ll ruin it for everyone. Oh Lord. She’ll probably talk him into turning it into a nail salon,” she scoffs. “Get a napkin, Poppy, for goodness’ sake. That’s your school jacket.” Poppy hops over to the coffee bar and wipes hot cocoa off her collar. I sit next to Shelby on a bar stool.

“Well, Nora will not be moving back.” I smile conspiratorially, relishing in having any bit of gossip before Shelby gets a hold of it.

“Shut up!” she says, hand to heart.

“She left him for an anesthesiologist she works with…that was like two years ago.”

“How the hell do you know that?” she asks, her mouth gaping open.

“He told me. We have businesses facing each other. I’ve run into him a few times.”

“Stop” is all she says, waiting for more.

“I guess the times he’s in town, he’s keeping to himself while going through the divorce without needing commentary from everyone. He just decided to come back full-time and take it over recently—like a few weeks ago. That’s all I know.”

“Well,” Herb pipes in uninvited. “Linda used to show up at the Trout without her teeth and wearing a jungle-print housecoat. So get Billy with his nice peach in there and I think the whole town will appreciate that.” Shelby notices the pair of them, smirks and sits on the arm of Herb’s couch.

“I didn’t know you two snuck out so early. You know we have coffee at the Ole?” she says.

“Mmm-hmm,” Mort says, not looking up from his page.

“Did you know Billy Curran was obsessed with Mack in school?” she teases.

“Stop telling them stuff like that. He was not,” I snap.

“He looked quite smiley this morning for a guy in subzero weather before the sun came up. I guess if I stopped working a hard manual labor job and handed draft beers to folks for a living instead, I’d be feeling pretty smiley too. Annnnd getting to gaze through my neon Bud Light sign in the window at my long-lost love across the lane.”

“You’re ridiculous,” I say, picking up the small plate of crumbs leftover from Herb’s breakfast and walking back to the counter when I see Billy Curran walk through the door. I stop midstep, surprised to see him, and of course Herb, Mort, and Shelby all stare. He is immediately self-conscious. He closes the door and looks down at himself, then back at us.

“Um, hello.” He looks over each shoulder and again, back to us. “Everything okay?”

“Yes!” Shelby says. “You’re just lettin’ in all the cold air, is all.”

“Oh, sorry,” he says.

“Can you turn around?” Herb asks, and Billy raises his eyebrows at him.

Mort nudges Herb and shakes his head. “He has a parka on, you won’t be able to see it.” Herb silently agrees and goes back to his coffee. Billy shakes off a confused look and comes up to the counter.

“Morning, Mack,” he says, smiling. Shelby bounds over and sits on a stool next to the register.

“Morning, can I get you something?”

“A couple of black coffees,” he says, taking his card out of his pocket. Shelby gives me a “see, I told ya” look and holds up two fingers and mouths “Nora,” rolling her eyes.

“Actually,” he says, “I’ve been meaning to ask if you’d consider, I don’t know, taking a look at the bar, offering an opinion.”

---