Page 1 of Thinking It Over

ONE

JASPER

I squintedat the time on my phone, hoping it was the middle of the night still so I could get back to sleep. Disappointment threaded its way through me. In its typical fashion, my internal clock was out of whack, and I only had forty-five minutes left before my alarm would blare at me. That meant there was no chance of me sleeping.

Frustrated, I hauled ass out of bed and stumbled to the main bathroom, making sure I avoided the squeaky floorboard that would surely wake up Mom.

I’d stayed up far too late playingOverwatchonline with my friend Ian. We’d talked into the night while we’d kicked ass and battled.

Ian had been struggling to sleep, as he’d had five night shifts on the bounce. Me, well, I had no strugglesleeping but felt sorry for the guy. Plus, spending time chatting with him wasn’t exactly a hardship.

After a long shower, since I wouldn’t be in a rush to get to work this morning, I checked the refrigerator, making sure we were stocked up. Seeing we were out of a few of the basics, I left Mom a note.

It was one of the small tasks she was managing. Anything beyond that, and she still struggled. Grief was a screwed-up thing. I’d quickly learned, after dealing with the loss of my dad my own way and studying my ass off to understand Mom’s grief better, that there was no right or wrong reaction.

That didn’t mean I wasn’t frustrated. Or lost. Or wondering if and hoping like hell she’d somehow snap out of it. And every time I battled with my own confusion, I came out the loser and feeling lousy for even considering that “snapping out” of grief was possible.

My phone vibrated with a call.

Collecting it from the kitchen table, I grinned when I saw the ID. “Why the hell aren’t you sleeping?” I said in greeting.

Ian yawned loudly, then grunted before saying, “I managed a couple of hours, then the neighbor’s dog started yapping.”

I winced, aware he was exhausted. He’d told me he’d had a rough week in the ER, and from some of the storieshe’d shared over the past few months since we’d become friends, I had a good idea of the exhaustion and daily dramas he dealt with as a nurse in such a busy city hospital.

“Any chance of you getting back to sleep soon?” I said as I stuck a magnet to the list for Mom and poured myself a cup of coffee. A quick glance at the clock told me I had some time to kill.

“Maybe.” I heard him shuffling around and water running. “Hopefully the dog will shut up soon so I can try again.”

“You’re not working tonight, right?”

“No, which means I should make sure I’m up at ten this morning, I suppose, so I can get some stuff done and try and sleep tonight.” The sound of him moving around fed through the line. “Damn, that’s hot.”

I snorted in response. “A hot bath will do that to a guy.” Ian’s routines were pretty easy to get a grip on. A hot bath with some sort of oil that he apparently swore helped him relax enough to head back to bed.

He grumbled as the phone was muffled for a moment as I made my way outside to the veranda.

“No turning wrinkly or scorching places that should never be burned,” I jested.

“Thanks for that.” I could visualize him shaking his head at me. “Okay, I’m out. Survive your day. You online tonight?”

“Yeah. Catch you later.”

“Will do.”

The line went dead, and I repositioned myself on the outside furniture.

One good thing about Kirkby at this hour in the morning was its absolute peace and quiet. Not that Kirkby was a busy metropolis or anything. Nothing like that, in fact. But once the birds started singing in the morning light, the town woke, and a gentle bustle followed.

With just fifteen minutes before I had to leave, I finished the dregs of my coffee and decided I may as well head on in early. It wouldn’t be a hardship to get on top of things.

Once the door was locked behind me, I headed to Split Bean, where I worked.

Everything was closed up tight when I arrived. It didn’t take long to start preparing the place for the morning rush.

My job here was good, honest work. And while it didn’t exactly challenge me, I appreciated Davis, the owner, giving me a chance about a year or so ago. Taking on an unemployed teacher with no barista or café experience was something pretty brave of him, or possiblydisastrous. Fortunately for the both of us, I’d picked up quickly how to make a mean cup of coffee and had figured out how to keep the till ringing and the customers happy.

But it wasn’t a classroom.

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