Page 42 of The Significance of Moving On

“Casey?” Tally calls into my ear.

“Yeah, sorry,” I clip, glad to be on the ground. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“No. I… I wanted to. You’ve been so good to me it’s the least I could do.”

More commotion this time from Chris who’s holding his hand upright and there’s blood dripping down his arm. What the hell is wrong with us today?

“Casey?Casey, you still there?”

“Gotta go.” I hang up on her and shove my phone back in my pocket while Nick and I deal with Chris. It buzzes again, but this time, I let it go straight to voicemail.

God, this suck. But I have a job to do and I do it. It starts snowing harder while we wrap Chris’s hand in the back of the van. I’m in charge and call it. The conditions aren’t safe enough to stay. We pack and head back to the office.

Not surprisingly Chris and Nick want to go to the bar again. Chris is known to use his injuries to gain sympathy from the ladies. I’m just not feeling it today. They give me shit like usual, but there’s a soft, warm bed at home with my name on it. Maybe I’ll call in sick tomorrow, too. Stay in all day. Hell, it’s not like I don’t deserve a damn hooky day.

When we reach the office, I don’t bother to shower, change back into my street clothes or even bother to say goodbye to Chris, Nick or our boss. Instead fishing my keys from my pocket and make for my car. They call after me cussing obscenities as I peel off. They’ll get over it.

The house is dark again when I get home except for the kitchen light which I leave on now. I’m hungry and tired, way too tired. But before I eat, I strip down for a quick shower. Somehow, I’ve fallen back into a rut again. Spending time alone day after day. After drying off, I walk to the fridge and pull out leftover pizza, heat it in the microwave, pour myself some soda and go crash in front of the TV.

Am I going crazy? Still dark outside, my eyes blink open and close several times, adjusting into focus because I swear there’s light tapping on the door. A quick glance to the clock says it’s early. Too early to be awake.

Pissed off, I push out of the recliner to answer the door. I can’t begin to cover my surprise to see Tally, of all people, standing there with a platter in her hands.

“Happy birthday, Case,” she says quickly and shoves the platter at me. “I made you breakfast.”

“Tally?” Is my genius response.

“Um…okay, bye.” Before I’m coherent enough to invite her in, she turns to sprint down the steps. There’s a thick blanket of snow on the ground. How the hell did she get a Rabbit through this mess before the plow trucks come through?

Like an idiot, I stand in the open door watching her drive away and letting cold air into my living room until my brain function kicks on, I step inside and close the door and walk the platter into the kitchen, set it on the table and peel off the aluminum foil.

Tally didn’t just make me breakfast, she got up early enough to cook me blueberry pancakes, bacon and scrambled eggs dripping with real maple syrup. There’s enough on the plate for four people and she didn’t stay to eat it with me.

She has to know I miss having breakfast with her. Appetite ruined, I shove the plate away from me. Though, not eating it would be rude. I mean, she went through all this trouble to make me a birthday present.Hell.Piling extra helpings of everything on my plate, I sit down with nobody to try and enjoy the food.

Packed between the eggs and bacon, wrapped in plastic film, there’s a little box covered in red tissue paper and a big bow on it. With guilt tearing up my insides, I rip open the paper and open the box to reveal a golden cross attached to a thin gold chain. In the center of the cross she placed the picture from when we were kids, me, Luke, D and Daniel. Shrunk it and had the copy mounted inside the cross.

I slip the chain over my head and go in to shower. As I’m already up, it doesn’t make sense to stay home now. Restless and needing something to distract me from this already confusing day, I dress warm—long sleeved thermal and flannel, fleece-lined jeans and thick socks to go in my work boots—then head to the office.

Same job, different day.

Same people, different day.

Same life, different day.

In the late spring, summer and most of the fall we’re a landscape company. Come late fall, winter and early spring, we switch to plowing, salting and even running a tow. Before I head out in the truck, I hook the plow to the front, pick up my schedule, pour coffee into my thermos and leave for my first appointment of the day.

Time seems to move in reverse. With ten plus hours of plowing driveways, blowing snow from sidewalks, towing vehicles from ditches, jumping batteries and rescuing keys from cars whose owners have locked themselves out of while letting the car warm up, I’m officially wiped.

The guys from work don’t even wait around to see if I want to hang tonight. But surprisingly Demetrius’s pickup idles in the parking lot waiting on me. He doesn’t usually come here. As foster brothers go—no, he’s not just a foster brother, with the absence of Luke he’s definitely the real thing—he’s a good one.

D stays warm inside his truck while I go inside to clock out and change. Thirty minutes later we’re on our way to my big surprise. I hate surprises.

“Quit your whining,” he orders. “Ain’t nobody wanna hear it.”

“Yeah, okay. It’s not like it’smybirthday or anything.”

“You don’t spend your twenty-second birthday alone eating hot pockets and binge-watching some sci-fi series until you pass out in your recliner.”

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