Page 22 of Salvation

I miss you

I know we literally work together now, but that doesn’t count

Also, can we order takeout? Baby wants some of those garlic fries from the bar...

I laugh as I stare down at the texts from Whitney.

Do they deliver?

You’re so funny!! I need to run some errands and get some stuff for the festival but can you pick it up and I’ll meet you at your house? In about an hour?

I stare at the screen, now considering how I can get out of this. I do miss Whitney. We haven’t hung out at all. And I can’t avoid the bar forever. I know that. Andhewon’t be there since he’s home tonight. I know because I saw his truck in the driveway on the way to Elain’s. I guess what better time is there to get it over with? Plus, I’m pretty hungry, too. My stomach growls as I type back.

Me: Sounds good!

***

I step into the bar, some old country music softly playing overhead. I placed the food order quite some time ago, so I’m hoping I’m not too early to pick it up. While I was technically in here before, I didn’t see much of anything. Too consumed with getting back to the house and under the covers that I didn’t even stop to take it all in. Whereas the outside didn’t change much, the inside of the bar is almost entirely remodeled. The memories made here are concealed by a bar I’ve never even seen before.

It almost looks like a cabin on the inside. Wooden floors, walls, tables, and chairs. The list goes on. It’s all a matching mahogany, making the lighting and feel of the space cozy. The back bar is a decent size, with the bar top being just as long. Behind it lies bottles of liqueurs, spirits, and glasses placed neatly on stepped shelves. The same pool table from years ago is still here, a largeantler-wrapped chandelier swinging above. An old jukebox in the corner. A brick fireplace. Various picture frames, newspaper articles, neon signs, and game heads take up the walls. Pictures of local people, Ben and the boys, and our moms.

I had been to more bars than I could count, but they were always ones that Marshall liked. Pristine and over the top. Hard to get into unless you know the right people and have the right connections. But this? This just screams small-town bar. My eyes snag on the booth in the back, and I want so desperately to go to it. To see why it’s the same as I remember, and not anything like the new tables or booths that have been put in. But I don’t let curiosity win me over this time. Instead, I spot the white bags sitting on the bar top and walk over to check the name on the receipt. Just as I go to pick them up, a woman comes out from the back of the bar. Brown hair pulled back into a low bun, and dark, rich brown eyes. Freckles splatter her nose. She looks young but not much younger than me. I recognize her from the time I came flying in here on a mission. She sees me, and her eyes light up. “Blake, isn’t it? I recognize you from the other day.”

I scratch the back of my neck and fight a blush from marring my face. “Sorry about that. I’ve been a bit off-kilter since being home.”

She laughs; it’s so pretty and light that it’s hard not to be drawn in by her personality. Then she pushes out her hand. “No hard feelings. My name’s Harper.” I take it and shake hers, plastering a genuine smile on my face.

“Nice to properly meet you,” I say while looking around, noticing it's rather empty. “Slow night?”

She nods, cringing. “It’s been like that recently.”

I crinkle my nose, and as I look around the space, a memory dawns on me that has me spitting out an idea. “Have you guys ever thought about doing karaoke?”

“What?”

“You know, karaoke. I think it’d be a real hit. In New York City, my friend frequented this bar that always did it on Friday nights. Brought in a big crowd. She always came home a little too drunk, but she always had fun.”

Her eyes light up, and a smirk falls onto her red-painted lips. “That’s one hell of an idea. I’ll pitch it to boss man.” I nod and smile. I turn to leave, hand already on the door, when I decide to spin back around.

“Do you have plans after this? Whitney is coming over.” I ask, making a show of pulling the bags of food up. “And clearly, we ordered way too much food. Maybe you could join us?”

For a second, I expect her to decline, but then she says, “You know what? I’d love that. I get off in half an hour.” She throws me a wink adding, “I’ll even bring the booze.”

I giggle. “Give me your number, I’ll text you the address.”

Chapter 23

Wesley

It was exactly two in the morning when I woke to my mom screaming. The kind of scream that would haunt anyone for the rest of their life. So blood-curdling and bone-chilling that I thought she was dying.

She may as well have been.

It was 2:15am by the time the Sheriff and EMTs got to our door.

2:17am, when they pronounced my father dead.

It’s not something you think is possible when you’re young. Your parents are invincible, especially your father. I didn’t cry at first; I couldn’t feel anything other than blinding, unbearable pain as my brain tried to catch up with what I was hearing and seeing. I could only watch as Wyatt held my mom as she sobbed and shook while my father’s body was wheeled away.

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