Page 9 of Always in Watch Hill
The tire didn’t take long to fix. I wheeled the bike over and Justin dashed inside, returning a few seconds later with a fresh bike tire and an air pump. As I watched, he expertly changed it, explaining as he did about how he kept extra supplies just for moments like this. Soon enough, the bike was restored, a fresh pair of tires signaling that I could continue my way.
“Looks great.” I took the renewed bike from him. “Thanks again.”
“Wherever you are headed, you should have no problem getting there now.”
“Was planning to hit up Great Miami Brewing for dinner, since it’s not far from here.” I studied him for a moment. “You want to come with me?”
He started. “Come with you?”
“Sure.” I glanced at my watch. “It’s almost five. Your guide said it’s only a few miles away. By the time we get there, it will be time to eat...”
“I don’t know.” He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced in the direction of his house. “I was going to spend the evening working on a few things, and...” Justin refocused on me. “You know what? Why not?”
“Yeah.” I smiled at him. “Why not?”
“A person has to eat, right?”
“They do,” I replied. “And we can always sit outside if you want... if that makes you feel better—”
“I’m not worried about the virus, Lynne. I got the vaccine a few weeks ago. It’s not that... it’s that... never mind.” He picked up the air pump. “Let me put this stuff away, and we can get on the road.”
“Great.” My shoulders relaxed and I stood a little straighter. “This will be fun.”
“It will,” he replied. “It will.”
SIX
JUSTIN
I’d forgotten how muchI liked Great Miami Brewing.
Located on an unincorporated slip of land between Watch Hill and Cincinnati, the place featured a small brewery with about twenty different flavors on tap, a tasting room serving pub fare, a large sand volleyball pit with four courts, an arcade with classic games, and a two-story deck along the back of the main building. Before the pandemic, beforeeverything, I had spent a decent number of Sundays in the tasting room watching football on the big screens behind the main bar, and one summer I even joined a men’s volleyball league.
Great Miami was a gem of a place, and when I walked in behind Lynne, I regretted how much time had passed since my last dinner there. That was one of the hard parts about a pandemic year—time kept marching on, no matter how I chose to spend it.
“Let’s get that table over there.” I took a deep breath and pointed at a two-top near the garage doors that opened to the deck. “That one has a great view of the creek.”
