Page 10 of Finding Home
Taking one look at her, even if it was for just a few seconds, I knew she didn’t belong here.
I knew she was from the city.
And I can’t stand city people.
I’d rather have a secluded life. I prefer a quiet life with no one in my business. But I can’t complain too much because they keep my bar up and running.
I lack patience for people who want to stay longer and destroy this place I call home with their piece of shit city attitudes and acting like they’re better than everyone. I’m too old for the bullshit.
I finally reach my covered porch with glass in hand and swing the door open. I never know if I should call it the front porch or the back porch because it’s all the same to me. It wraps around three sides of my house, with the front door tucked away on the right, covered by greenery.
The entire house is nestled away, just the way I fucking like it.
I’m the farthest house on the outskirts of town. If I walked a mile through the woods, I would cross the Bluestone Lakes border and into the next town.
“What are you even doing here?” I ask Nan, taking a seat on the rocking chair overlooking the lake on the porch. I realize there is no car in my driveway. “Did you walk here, you crazy woman?”
And that’s not an exaggeration.
Nan is the craziest lady I’ve ever had the displeasure ofknowing. I might have called her Nan, but she’s no one’s Nan. She just makes everyone call her that. And she doesn’t own the town, contrary to what she says.
Do you know who owns the town?
My parents.
I want to gag thinking about it. My dad’s been the mayor of this place since before I was born. No one in town is crazy enough to go up against him in an election, either. Eventually, we just stopped having them. It’s a small part of the reason I’m a grumpy bastard.
Among many other things.
They spent most of my childhood building this town into what it is. My dad now runs everything from the fire department to the police station to the zoning and planning board. While I love this town and will never leave, I resent it to an extent because it took away a piece of my younger years. Growing up the older brother of two sisters also led to constant aggravation. The only people I had were Poppy and Lily, until our cousin, Tucker, moved here for reasons he doesn’t like to discuss.
I mean, I know why, but it’s his story to tell.
Now, he’s more like a younger brother to me.
Let’s not forget the horrific work schedule I put on myself.
Since my patience is as thin as the ice on Bluestone Lake when it’s barely below freezing temperatures, I can’t stand the evening crowd at my bar.
Seven Stools—named after the seven original bar stools I painstakingly sanded and varnished—is my pride and joy. I built the bar from the ground up when I turned twenty-three. And it’s turned out to be a really successful bar now that I’m older and wiser at thirty.
It’s a place that’s all mine and nothing of my parents.
They didn’t want me to open the bar.
All the more reason to open it.
So, I signed myself up for a lifetime of working the lunch shift. Seven days a week. Because I would rather be miserableworking seven days a week than work even one night shift with that crowd.
Hard. Pass.
My only issue is that it takes time away from the ranch. I’ve hired enough help to keep the horses fed and the acres of property from falling into disarray, but I hate not being able to spend as much time as I would like there. Owning Barlow Ranch and running a bar isn’t for the weak, but the ranch was a gift from my parents. It’s the only gift worth keeping because it’s my serenity. I don’t look at it as if it’swork. I look at it as my escape. But the constant juggle between the two, the struggle to find a balance, is a challenge I face every day.
“I hold that title with pride, Griff,” Nan finally replies, taking a seat next to me with a cold beer in her hand. “But I didn’t walk here. I dropped off the new owner of your old home,” she says before taking a swig from the bottle.
I narrow my eyes. “Did you carry her piggyback style down the dirt road?”
“Okay, Mr. Semantics.Shedroveme. I guided her where to go. Happy now?”
