Page 7 of After Hours
He paused for two breaths before answering. “I lost my car.”
Any hope of sleep vanished, and I swung my feet off the bed and to the floor. “What do you mean? In a poker game? You forgot where you left it?”
Wyatt huffed. “You know I don’t gamble, Z.”
“I don’t know what you do with your life. What happened to your car?”
Silence spun out so long again that I had to check to see if the call dropped. “It kinda fell off a bridge.”
“What?” I shot to my feet. “What the fuck? Were you drinking? High?” The ugly thought of my brother driving under the influence washed through me.
“No! Fuck, Zane, no. I don’t…” He puffed out another short breath. When he spoke again his voice was almost too quiet to hear. “I’ve been clean and sober for almost three months. A trucker fell asleep at the wheel and ran me off the road. The car was totaled. I have to go to PT in Pittston. I took an Uber last week, but I can’t afford it since I’m off work because I got hurt falling off the damn bridge. I need the physical therapy ‘cause I can’t live with this pain forever, and there’s no way I’m popping pills and screwing myself up worse.” His voice shook by the time he finished.
I flopped back onto the bed, and Sugar crept over to lick my arm. I trailed my fingers through her fur. “Shit, Wy. I’m… I’m proud of you. And damn, are you okay? What happened?”
“Can I tell you on the way to physical therapy? They’re already pissed I skipped one session.” He paused again. “And thanks, bro. I’m kinda proud of me too.” Something I hadn’t heard in a long time crept into his voice. He sounded like happiness could be more than just some abstract concept other people had a handle on.
Hours later, after a drive to Pittston, take-out burgers on the road, and finding out my brother had a torn tendon in his shoulder, a bunch of ugly scrapes and bruises, the lingering effects of a minor concussion, no paid time off from his warehouse job, and a notice to vacate his rented room, I pulled back into the spot in front of my apartment with Wyatt, five cardboard boxes of his stuff, and a promise that he could stay with me as long as he stayed sober.
“I think it’s time for me to grow up.” He flashed me a twisted, familiar smile. “It’s stupid that my little brother managed it before I did.”
He followed me carefully into the living room, sank down on the couch, and gave Sugar appropriate loving when she jumped up to bounce all over him. “Careful, Lady,” he said. “I’m the walking wounded.”
I yawned while carrying in his boxes, then simply waved my hand toward the kitchen on the way back to my bedroom. “I need sleep, Wy. I have work later. Help yourself to whatever.” I spent my last bits of brain power trying to remember if I had any beer in the fridge that I should get rid of, remembered that I finished the last bottle a few nights earlier, and crashed down on my mattress again. The TV came on quietly in the other room, but nothing could keep me from falling back to sleep.
***
Wyatt still napped on the couch when I emerged from my room later in my new Beacon T-shirt. I scrawled a note telling him when I’d be back, slipped into my shoes, and headed out to my car. It took about thirty minutes to get to the laundry, and all I had to do was sign in, grab the tablet with the usual delivery schedule, and get in my truck for my shift.
I always handled the Halcyon Inn delivery first, but something made me turn east toward the hotels out on the highway rather than west toward the lake. There was no reason to stick to the same schedule every day, right? I tried to convince myself that it was a completely random decision, but, as I pulled around back to the inn’s delivery spot just before ten o’clock the next morning, I knew it was anything but.
He's probably at work at the camp, you idiot.I should’ve asked Oscar what hours he worked. At least that would alleviate the wonder of knowing if I had a chance to see him or not. I pulled the laundry cart into the storage room, stocked the shelves, grabbed the dirties, and left. Lingering wouldn’t do any good, and it would put me off my schedule. Second shift drivers got pissed if you delayed their start and made them late.
After stowing the cart in the back of the truck, I rounded the side toward the driver’s seat when Finn stepped out of the trees-lined path.
“Hey, Zane. You’re late today.” He raised one of his broad hands and grinned. “Not that it’s a problem. We have plenty of towels.”
“Oh yeah. I thought I’d shake things up and take a different route.”
Instead of a quick wave and goodbye like normal, Finn crossed his arms over his chest and widened his smile. “The schedule change wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain Oscar O’Donnell, would it? He told us that a hot blond guy from the laundry saved him from the lake a few days ago.”
My shoulder blades thumped back against the truck, and I blinked. He said I was hot? “Um…” My hesitation only made Finn chuckle. “You know Oscar?”
“Yeah, he’s my nephew. He’s staying with me and Carter for a while. He’s at work right now, though.” Finn turned awaybut glanced back with a smile. “Hey, you deliver at Camp Rocky Cove, too, right?”
He headed inside before I could answer, and it took me another moment to realize I was standing in the parking lot like an idiot. I got back into the truck, tapped the laundry app to update the delivery dashboard, and headed out. No one would care if I backtracked a bit on my route so I could hit the camp next. As long as I made all the deliveries and got back before the next shift needed the truck, I was golden.
The chance to see Oscar again felt pretty damn golden, too. Musing about what clothing malfunction we could share next – wet, ripped, or somehow magically vanishing entirely – made the drive super short. As soon as I didn’t need to pay attention to the road or parking, my head was on a swivel scanning the lot, decks, and trailheads for him.
Jamal passed and raised his hand in greeting. I slid the towels onto the shelf as quickly as I could, and then walked incredibly slow between the building and the truck. A delivery that usually took ten minutes stretched toward twenty, and whatever spark of hope I had that I’d see Oscar began to fade.
I hefted the cart into the back of the truck and slammed the door. The sudden appearance of big blue eyes, bouncy curls, and the sweetest smile made me curse out loud and clutch at my chest. “Fuck! You scared me.” Before he could start apologizing, I grinned and leaned against the truck. “I’m glad to see you, though.” Finn’s words echoed through my head.A hot blond guy from the laundry saved me.
“Sorry! I mean, me too.” He waved a hand toward the trees. “I was cleaning up a path and saw the laundry truck, so I thought I’d come over and—” He shrugged and blushed.
His babbling and blush were as adorable as anything else about him, but I did have a schedule to keep. There was no way I’d leave our next meeting to chance. “Do you work Fridaynight?” I’d get off work at the usual time and planned to go climbing at two with Dani and Leo at two, but that gave me plenty of time to wash up and do… whatever.
Oscar’s smile widened and he shook his head. “No. I’m off Friday.”
