Page 30 of Finders Keepers
Nate walked over, pointed at OMAR, and pasted on a smile that Wesley could tell was his public persona smile and not the true one that revealed a missing tooth and made the corners of his eyes crinkle. Wesley captured the image and held the phone out.
“Now, us together,” Nate said, tone firm.
“My face looks like a bruised pear. It’ll look horrible.” Not that he would refuse because then he’d have a picture of the real Nate—something that probably few other people had.
“It’ll be fine. No one’s gonna see it but me. I promise.” Nate stuck out his bottom lip again, damn him, and Wesley was helpless to resist the combination of pouty lip and twinkling eyes.
“Share it with me,” Wesley said once the moment had been captured. “Now—let’s go enjoy the sun and the view.”
The trek up the sloped ramp left Wesley breathless, and he stopped to catch his breath on the bridge proper.
They leaned on the bridge rail, side by side, watching the water ripple below them. A soft wind ruffled past them, cool in contrast to the warmth of the sun, the air rich with the earthiness of mud and damp soil.
Wesley sighed and pushed away from the railing. “Reminds me of staying with my grandparents when I was a kid. All that’s missing is the scent of laundry detergent on the breeze and the wobbly buzz of the ceiling fan in the kitchen.”
Nate fell in step beside him. “Where was that?”
“North of Durant, Oklahoma on the Blue River. Grampa farmed. The house overlooked a private pond, and Gramma always had the windows open. No AC back then.”
Wesley’s gaze drifted along the river’s edge, reminding him of the pond. “That was a long time ago,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Sounds idyllic—was it?”
The bridge wasn’t overly crowded, and they walked on the right side as if they were cars on a road.
“Some of my favorite memories. My sister and I would run all over the property, go swimming in the pond, and help Gramma in the garden. Sometimes Grampa would let us ride on the tractor.”
“You have a sister?”
Wesley nodded. “She’s a couple of years younger than me.”
“Where does she live?”
“Last I heard, she’s in Oklahoma City.”
Nate gave him a sideways glance. “Last you heard…” He shook his head as if he understood the unspoken part of the story. “Never mind, none of my business. I take it that’s not where you grew up then?”
“No. I grew up an hour and a half south of Oklahoma City in Lone Grove, just west of Ardmore.”
“Wow. You’re a ways from home too.”
A wash of heat licked up Wesley’s face. “Yeah. I moved up here for a guy and never left.” Leaving town wasn’t his finest hour, but he’d gotten away from home and had no desire to go back.
“And the guy…he’s not in the picture.”
With a shake of his head, Wesley said, “We parted ways about a year later. That was six years ago.”
“Were you already a teacher?”
“I had three years of school under my belt and the last year took me another three. But I made it happen. Worked two jobs, took online classes, and squeezed in in-person classes when I could.” Those years had been some of the hardest, loneliest years of his life. He’d lived on store-brand mac and cheese and chicken broth, splurging on a roast chicken once a week for protein.
It hadn’t been just the lack of money; it had been the isolation, too. He’d never had anyone to turn to, never felt like hehad a place. Somehow, he’d just kept going, one foot in front of the other, because that’s what people did when they had nothing else to rely on.
“Eventually, I moved to Plattsmouth and substitute taught while I finished the last few classes. I did my student teaching at the elementary school there and they hired me the following school year. This year will be my third year as a full-fledged teacher.”
“Wow, that’s impressive. That you stuck with your education despite the hurdles. Is it dumb or, I don’t know, inappropriate to say I’m proud of you?”
A wave of warmth curled through Wesley. He shook his head. He’d never heard praise from anyone who mattered, and never in a way that sank in the way Nate’s did. The principal and his co-workers had offered compliments before, but those had always felt perfunctory. This was different—this felt genuine. “Thanks.”
