Page 44 of Plentywood
“He said he’ll take the hundred and twenty K, sir.” More talking before Charlie held the phone away again and looked at me. “This coming weekend? Missoula? Me and you? Road trip?” I nodded yes to every question. “We’ll see you this Saturday, sir,” he said. “Yes, he has the title.” More background chatter. “Cashier’s check is fine, sir. Yes, I agree. That is a lot of money, sir.”
After a few more minutes of fraternity talk and discussing which one of them knew whom, they disconnected. “Just like that?” I asked.
Charlie stood up. “Just like that,” he replied.
“Just like what?” Agnes asked, coming out of the exam room and seeing Charlie and me huddled at my desk.
“The doctor and I are taking a weekend road trip to Missoula, Gramma.”
“We are? A weekend?” I asked, perplexed at how that had happened. “Like overnight?”
“Like overnight, doc. Me and you,” he said. “Missoula is a nine-hour drive one way. No way we make a return drive in one day. Plus, we have to find a way back to Plentywood,” he finished, beaming at his grandmother. “Leave it all to me, handsome.”
I glanced toward Agnes. She had a stern look on her face but said zero. Charlie stood grinning at both of us. “Thank you, Charlie,” I managed to squeak, shocked at how easily he had helped me with my issue. I turned to Agnes. “We can schedule the renovation on the theater, Agnes,” I announced. “I’m paying the entire cost.”
Agnes looked from me and then to her grandson, remaining silent. “Where are your car keys, Gram?” Charlie asked her. “I’m here to pick your car up for an oil change.”
Agnes, still quiet, went to her locker, fished out her keys from a handbag, and returned to his side. “I’m here until six,” she stated. Charlie kissed her on the cheek, winked at me, and strode out of the office.
I watched as Agnes sat at her desk, occasionally looking up at me but saying absolutely nothing. She recorded more notes in the file from her last patient, checking on me a minimum of three more times.
“What?” I asked her exhaustedly.
She began shaking her head. “Don’t,” she said. “I’m warning you, doc.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: Hunter
Friday evenings were quiet in town. I was still at the station and thinking of calling it a week. The townsfolk would be deciding on dinner at Jill’s, or whether to call it a day and head home. A few high schoolers, beginning their summer season, cruised Main Street like kids in small towns tended to do. Many of the rural folks would return later for Trivia night at Smitty’s, and odds were I’d see them there.
Jill fancied herself the queen of trivia and insisted I be her partner as a way to get me out of my house. I’d resisted at first but eventually gave in and enjoyed the comradery of our team and the other folks who attended. Not to mention a few beers, as well as cutting loose with friends, was a nice activity after a long week of work. Not thatcutting loosewas something I was known for. We hadn’t lost a Friday night trivia gathering for four straight months now.
After becoming sheriff, I’d promoted one of the other deputies, Cass Johnson, to lead the crew of three and then hired a kid fresh out of the academy from Idaho. The new kid’s name was Lucah Michaelsen, and he was proving to be a great young man and a quick learner.
I’d begun taking weekends off six months prior, even though I had no life or desire to be home. The lawn and flowers wereuntouched since Mark died and working on the interior of the house seemed futile since I’d lost all interest in it as a home. The 1980s rambler was simply a roof over my head and a place to sleep as I wandered aimlessly through life.
“I’m just about outta here, Cass,” I yelled from my office. “I’ll do a loop and then you’re in charge, Deputy.”
One of us in the Sheriff’s department did ‘the loop’every four hours, twenty-four hours a day. The loop consisted of a patrol route where we performed a local safety check and looked for any issues around our small town. We’d start at the southern entry to town, make our way up and down the two blocks on either side of Main Street, for a total of four blocks, and then head north up Main to complete the route.
“I’ll have my radio on all weekend if you need me,” I shouted, locking my office door. Cass picked up a call and waved at me to acknowledge my leaving.
Deputy Jay Hayes, Mark and Jill’s cousin, blocked my exit to the parking lot. “Jennie thinks he’s keen on you, sheriff,” he said, smacking my arm and needing help with his segues. Jennie was Jay’s wife. They’d been high school sweethearts and married the day Jennie turned eighteen. He continued. “Jennie noticed him drooling over you and your song last Saturday night at Smitty’s.”
“You can tell your wife she’s seeing things.”
“Come on, Hunt,” he insisted. “Ask the doctor out on an official date. The two of you would make a nice couple.”
“And why would I do that, Jay? I’m still holding out for you,” I joked.
Jay was Mormon, and he blushed as red as an apple. He was super cool about my sexuality and never preached the book of Mormon, but he was still easy to shock.
“You know I can’t, well, I couldn’t, you know… do something like that,” he struggled to say.
“I’m shittin’ ya, buddy,” I teased. “So calm down, Mr. Clean. You’re certainly a pretty boy, but I happen to like your wife and wouldn’t do that to her.”
“Jennie insisted I tell you about the doctor,” he defended. “I didn’t see none of that drooling stuff she was talking about, though.”
I leaned closer to him. “It’s all good, buddy. I know you ain’t gay. I was just surprised to see you and the wife at the tavern. You know, the whole alcohol and Mormon thing.”
