Page 6 of The Problem with Perfect

I back my car into a spot behind One Stop Shop and pop the trunk, where I have ten cases of beer waiting to be unloaded. Thankfully, I was able to partner with a distributor who manages all the restocking down the mountain at the locations that keep our beer on the shelves, but for all the little businesses up here in the mountains, the cost of hiring someone else is just too great, so I handle those deliveries myself, including our local grocery, One Stop.

I push through the back door and prop it open then grab a dolly and begin unloading the first five boxes.

“Hey man.”

I look over my shoulder and grin when I spot Andy Marshall, clipboard in hand, standing in the doorway.

“Happy Monday.”

I snort. “Mondays are never happy.”

He flashes me a smile and moves out of the way as I wheel the dolly into the stock room in the back of the store.

“I love Mondays.”

“That’s because you take off Tuesday and Wednesday,” I reply. “I’d love Monday too if it was the start of my weekend.”

He laughs and follows behind me as I head into the main store and over to the beer fridge. “Yeah, okay. I guess that makes sense.” He pauses. “I was thinking about you yesterday.”

I glance back at him just as I yank the fridge door open, unsurprised when I see the sympathetic look on his face. Andy’s always been a softy at heart, and he tells me some version of the same thing every year at this time. He knows I don’t want to talk about it.

Nodding, I don’t address what he said, making quick work of hoisting the cases onto the appropriate shelves.

“What did you get up to this weekend?” I ask once I emerge and see that he’s waiting for me. “Did Briar have that thing?”

He shakes his head and follows me as I head back to my car for the second load. “It’s this coming weekend. We’re heading down to Sacramento tomorrow for a few days, gonna make a little trip out of it.”

“Sounds fun.”

“I hope so.”

Andy’s girlfriend Briar is an exceptional florist, and she’s competing in some kind of regional bouquet contest. She’s been talking about it for months, sharing all the things she’s been doing to prepare.

It’s wild to me the things people find interesting. The idea that there are enough people into putting together vases of fancy flowers to the point that there are regional competitions…ones that lead to state and national competitions…it’s just mind-blowing.

That said, I’m sure there are things I do that other people are shocked by. Well, things Iwoulddo if I had time to have any hobbies. Right now, nearly every minute goes into my business, whether it’s day-to-day ops or working on something for the opening. Besides one or two other responsibilities, I just don’t have time for anything else.

Besides, I’m not really a joiner, not a hobby kind of guy. I mean, I can’t even imagine what I’d look like doing…something else, like playing tennis or collecting coins.

A huff of laughter falls from me as I finish up with the delivery and sign the paperwork with Andy that reflects the quantity of items I stocked up.

“I was thinking about heading into The Mitch tonight, grabbing a beer. You interested?”

I close the trunk of my car, considering. I’m a regular there, but I’m not really in the mood for being friendly.

It’s almost like Andy can read my mind.

“We do this song and dance every year, Rus. You don’t have to talk to me. You can just be a grump, but you shouldn’t be alone right now.”

I grind my teeth together a little bit, considering. He’s right. I know he is.

So I nod. “Yeah, just text me what time.”

Andy slaps my back and gives me that stupid smile again. Sometimes I wish I could be a happy man like Andy is, someone who sees the positives in things and stays optimistic, but I just don’t have it in me.

I’m not sure I ever have.

* * *

---