Page 7 of The Shots You Take

“I won’t drink. I promise.”

“That’s not what I meant. But that’s good. It’s probably tempting.”

Riley ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah.” He waited a beat, then said, “I think I’ll go to the store tomorrow. Not to open it, but just to, I don’t know. See what needs doing.”

“It might help,” she agreed. “Good to stay busy, they say.”

“They do say that.”

“Well…” Lindsay stood and brushed down her skirt. “I left poor Josh talking to Sherry Greenlaw, so I’d better rescue him.”

Riley managed to smile.

“He’s going to hear about her plans to keep the deer away from her tulips this year.”

“So that battle continues, does it? I miss so much in Halifax.”

She pointed at the abandoned plate of food. “Eat. Before Lucky wakes up and notices a plate full of ham.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Riley picked up the plate but didn’t eat. Instead, he stared out the window at the rain that was still spitting against the glass and thought about the last time he’d seen Dad. Had it really only been five days ago? They’d closed the shop together, then, as usual, had lingered outside the entrance, chatting in the cold even though they’d been working together for hours and would again tomorrow. Riley had planned to drive to Truro later that week to pick up some gardening supplies ahead of the planting season and had asked if Dad needed anything from town. Dad had said no and then had proceeded to list several things from four different stores that Riley could pick up if it wasn’t too much trouble. Riley had assured him that of course it wouldn’t be too much trouble, and he should let him know if he needed anything else. It had been a dull conversation, really. Completely unremarkable, but Riley would replay it forever, probably. He didn’t know how long they’d stayed outside talking, but he did know that he’d thought Dad had looked tired. He’d figured it was only because Dad had been busy lately, with the minor hockey season wrapping up and the upcoming awards banquet (now postponed).

Alone in the sunroom, Riley said, “Of course you waited for the hockey season to be over before you died.”

An unhinged-sounding laugh escaped from him, which woke up Lucky. The dog stood and stretched, then noticed the plate of ham.

“Yep,” Riley said, then held out a piece of ham for him. He watched Lucky happily devour it and wished, for the millionth time, that he could trade lives with his dog. “You don’t have a single regret in the world, do you?”

Lucky licked his own nose, his tail thudding against the floor in the laid-back manner of someone whose concerns weremostly ham related. He didn’t have to deal with the grief of burying his father, plus the heartache of coming face-to-face with the love of his fucking life, all on the same day. Riley was sure Lucky missed Dad in his own way. Of course it was impossible to know, really, but Riley was pretty sure Lucky had noticed Dad wasn’t around.

“He’s not coming back,” Riley said, more to himself than to Lucky.

Lucky sat with a sigh and stared at the ham.

“Dad’s gone, and Adam Sheppard is here.” Riley massaged his own forehead. Lucky rested his head on Riley’s knee and gazed up at him with sad eyes. “Yeah,” Riley agreed. “It’s fucked.”

Adam probably wasn’t still in town, though. Why would he be? Riley hoped he was already back in Toronto.

Itwasnice, though, that he’d bothered to come. That he still thought about Riley at all. Riley had assumed Adam had long forgotten about him. It would have been easy for him to move on from…whatever they’d had. It had never meant much to Adam.

It had meant everything to Riley.

Anyway. Adam was gone, and Riley could go right back to not thinking about him. Or trying not to think about him.

Lucky shifted so his head was leaning toward the ham. Riley scoffed, then gave him another piece. “I guess we should mingle.” It was the last thing Riley felt like doing, but the house was full of people who’d loved his dad, and he could keep it together for a little while longer.

As soon as they were back among people, Lucky took off, weaving through the crowd in search of whoever seemed most likely to give him attention. Riley drifted like a ghost toward the kitchen, hoping no one noticed him at all. He gave quick nods of acknowledgment to a few people—Jessica and Addie,who were the high school kids who worked part-time at the shop; his cousin Cory; Robert from the hockey board—but didn’t linger. Holding a paper plate that needed to be disposed of gave Riley a mission.

There was a small cluster of people in the kitchen, but they’d formed a tight conversation circle that Riley could easily bypass. He disposed of his plate, then busied himself for a while rinsing out the empty bottles and cans that had collected around the sink.

“There he is,” said a voice Riley knew well. He turned to see his oldest friend, Darren, crossing the kitchen with his husband, Tom. “God, come here.” Darren wrapped Riley in a hug and kissed his cheek. “I’m so sorry, love.”

“Thanks.” Riley glanced over Darren’s shoulder. “Hey, Tom.”

“How are you holding up?” Tom asked as he took his turn hugging Riley. Darren wasn’t a small man, but Tom washuge. Taller even than Riley, and built like an offensive lineman. He had a thick beard and a kind face, and he absolutely adored Darren. Riley liked him a lot.

“I’m doing all right,” Riley said as Tom released him from his bear grip.

Darren held his hand and squeezed it gently. “It’s us. You can be honest.”

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