Page 2 of The Locksmith's Promise

2

Eyes on the Prize

Baxter

I slammed the liftgate down over the last box I’d packed into the cargo area of my SUV.

There wasn’t much. By the time I sold the furniture, all that was left was my guitars, my landscape, and my clothing. I didn’t know what waited for me in Moose Lake, and it wasn’t like I could pack up my furniture and sleep in that house.

Pacing the sidewalk with my cell phone pressed to my ear, I waited for Miller to pick up.

Here in Bridgewater in mid September, the mid-afternoon sun burned hot. At home it would be at least ten degrees cooler.

I still didn’t know the answer to the question, but worthy or not, I was going home.

“Yo.”

“Status.”

“She’s home; looks like she’s here to stay. Uh, I gotta tell you—”

“I don’t want to hear anything,” I cut in.

I’d taken enough from her. Anything else, I wanted her to give me freely. Or not at all.

“She’ll tell me herself if she wants me to know.”

A sharp laugh rang in my ear. “That’s how you want to play it?”

I nodded, then realized he couldn’t hear that. “I’m sure.”

“Bax,” he began. “I don’t want you to be blind-sided–”

“Miller,” I begged, coming to a stop. I covered my eyes with my hand and breathed deep.

I was so close.

“I don’t want to hear anything that might mean I can’t see her. Please. I’ll find out everything I need to know when I get there.” I closed my eyes. “I need to see her, talk to her, at least once. Just once.”

“Okay, man,” he replied softly.

He’d always had my back growing up. I wished I’d been half as good to him.

His next question cut through the debris of my thoughts. “You coming here?”

I snorted. “You got room at your place?”

The truth was, I hadn’t thought that far ahead. And Miller had gotten married and had a house full of kids since I’d left.

“Fuck, yeah,” he spat. “You think I’d let you sleep under that asshole’s roof?”

“My fuckin’ roof now,” I reminded him.

It had been weeks since Miller last called. I’d briefly considered packing it in and leaving right away, but I had responsibilities here, work to wrap up, and friends I couldn’t let down. Especially my band.

With bees buzzing beneath my skin, I waited until we played our last gig of the summer to break the news.

After the last performance, we gathered around the table Barrett’s wife, Willa, Lucky’s wife, Minty, and Lenny’s wife, Junie, had claimed earlier that night.

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