Page 43 of Baker
“Point made,” I said. “Bella ain’t Hanley. That’s all I’m saying about it.” With that, I cranked the engine over and began fiddling with the radio. Seemed Bella had forgotten something, for she was now sprinting for the house. Linc’s brown eyes followed her inside, and he instantly started rolling his ear piercing between his fingers.
“My last therapist advised me not to get into a new relationship until I was more solid in myself.”
“Oh, huh. Well, sure, I get that from an addict’s point of view. We’re told the same thing when we’re starting out on our journey to sobriety, but there comes a point when having someone in your corner makes that hard work a little easier.”
“Pot meet kettle,” he mumbled.
I chuckled. His sight left the front porch to land on me. “Bella said the same thing to me like an hour ago. Fine, I get it. I’m the last man to take advice from on this subject, but just bear inmind that she is a good soul. Kind, generous, and loving. And who the hell doesn’t need someone like that in their corner when they’re trying to fix themselves?”
He said nothing in reply, just turned his head to find Bella skipping out of the house with a tiny shawl to cover her bare shoulders. She waved at us before disappearing into Dodge’s new Silverado.
I played with the radio until I found something that was not sad songs about loves gone wrong, which eliminated 90 percent of country music. Instead, I found the lone classic rock station, and we made our way to the lake as the DJ spun the entire EaglesGreatest Hitsalbum. As “Heartache Tonight” filled the cab, I felt kind of called out for my earlier comment about sad songs, but at least this one had a catchy beat and no mention of beer.
Parking around the lake was basically you pulled in and parked wherever. People, cars, and food vendors filled the small lake area. We got Granny settled into one of the yard chairs we’d brought in the back of our trucks and then went to prowl the offerings while she chatted with some of her old friends wrapped in sweaters with blankets tucked around their legs. The lake was pretty small compared to others but large enough to hold some nice bass and shoot fireworks over. Our volunteer fire department was here to keep an eye on things and sell raffles for a new hunting rifle. The ground under our feet was already packed down from the tires and hundreds of shoes that had run over it. The poor wildlife had probably gone into hiding while wondering what the actual hell was going on. I always felt bad for the critters when this kind of thing took place.
The rest of us went in search of food. Bella held onto Linc’s arm tightly as we strolled along the row of food trucks. Head high and chin up, she smiled graciously at the people we passed. Many gave her odd looks, some whispered, and a few refused to acknowledge her greetings. Lots of them gave us all a wide berth.
Dahn seemed oblivious to the vibes. He was more interested in the hot dogs and cotton candy as he searched for kids his own age. A shy lad, he was both hoping to play with some kids but a little hesitant to just leap into the gaggle of boys that raced past, hooting like owls.
“Think the locals have caught onto our little band of queer brothers,” Dodge commented while we waited in line for hot dogs and soda pop.
“Good. Might as well separate the haters from the good folk early,” I said over my shoulder as a local band playing oldies wrapped up something from Bill Haley and the Comets. “Makes it easier to know who to ignore when you go to town next time.”
Dodge snickered softly, his attention on his son, who was petting a dog. I slipped around in front of him and placed an order for four hot dogs, two bags of chips, and two large sodas for me and Granny. After paying for my order, I took the dogs that were handed to me in little paper trays and reached for the condiments. Granny and I both loved chopped onions and lots of mustard on our franks. I reached for the spoon in the large bowl of white onion chunks when a familiar voice to my left nearly made me drop my wiener.
“Onions make for rough breath when kissing someone hello.”
Hanley smiled at me, scruffy as ever, perhaps even more than the last time I’d seen him, but stunningly beautiful despite the patchy beard and wrinkled clothing.
I opened my mouth to reply but my dumbass brothers shoved in to greet the wandering soul, leaving me standing to the side, frankfurter in hand, brain scrambling to connect the dots. Why was he here? Had he not ghosted me for three damn days? What did this mean?
Hanley glanced around Dodge, Ford, and Lincoln to find me gaping at my siblings’ backs with a naked hot dog in my grasp.
“Next!” Mrs. Shindle shouted to get the line moving. The music had stopped, a sure sign that the fireworks were about to start soon. I nudged Ford aside to dress my dogs, then moved off to allow others to order. Hanley fell in beside me, taking the one tray of food and drink from me as we walked back to where we were parked.
“You seem mad,” he said while we sidestepped dogs on leashes and little kids waving sparklers. “Are you mad?”
“No, I’m just…” I ran into a verbal brick wall as I sped up my pace. What the hellwasI feeling? Shocked, yes. Ecstatic, maybe. Scared, for sure. Was he just here to touch base about something, or was he here for us?
Just ask the man! FFS, Studebaker. Use your damn words.
Internal me was making lots of sense. I would do just that. As soon as I knew what words to use.
“Hanley, welcome back! Is that my dog with onions? My stars, you look good with that beard. Come down here and give me a hug,” Granny shouted from her seat amongst the Bastian Grange grand dames.
Hanley bent down to hug Granny before handing off her hot dog, chips, and pop. “You ladies look comfy,” he said to the elderly gals, eyeballing him and me in anticipation of something, but I didn’t know what. “I’ve heard this is a great show. Mind if I hang out here and watch with the family, Mrs. Bastian?”
“Oh shit, don’t start with that Mrs. Bastian nonsense now. I’m Granny to you. Get your ass in the back of the truck and settle in with Baker,” Granny yelled to be heard over the announcement that the fireworks were starting in five minutes. My brothers arrived with food and drink. Granny barked something at them as I sat down on the tailgate of our beater farm truck beside Hanley. He chucked his backpack behind us, then eyeballed my wiener with a gaze that made my toes curl inside my boots.
“You hungry?” I asked and got a small nod. I passed over a hot dog loaded with onions. “You’ll have to share my soda and chips.”
“Thanks. I didn’t have time to eat at the airport. My flight out of British Columbia was late, the brush pilot had some personal issues, and that set off the chain reaction of every flight afterward being a fucking sprint to the gate. I made it to Prince Rupert airport with about fifteen minutes to spare. Then I crashed on the flight to OKC and woke up when we landed. Then it was a scramble to find a rental car. Seems Memorial Day weekend is a big travel time. Who knew? Well, I did, but my desire to see you spurred me into accepting the last car in the lot, which was a pretty nice Nissan with so-so air conditioning, but I left the windows down so it was fine.”
“You came back for me?” I stupidly asked.
He paused with his hot dog in front of his face. A smile pulled up at the corners of those luscious lips. “I mean…you came back for me. That’s…I wasn’t sure where we stood. I’d not heard from you for a few days and…” I let it hang.
He took a bite that made half the dog disappear. After he chewed and swallowed, he shifted on the tailgate to stare right at me. I could hear Dahn a few feet away asking when the show would start, followed by Dodge replying with a plea for him to be patient.
