Page 77 of Mountain Daddies

“Is that all?” Artie asks.

Ed shakes his head reluctantly. “We need to tell her how we really feel about her.”

“And how’s that?” I ask cautiously.

“I’m still not sure, but I like Susan,” Ed begins, hesitating at first.

“I like her too,” I say.

“Me too,” Artie chimes in. “What’s not to like about her?”

I can’t help but notice the way all three of us dance around the wordlove.

“Most importantly, are we okay with each other?” I say. It’s the elephant in the room, but I know I have to bring it up sooner or later.

“It’s definitely…unconventional,” Ed says. “But I think it would be unfair to let Susan choose one of us. We’re a team. Nobody will ever get us the way we get each other, and I don’t think we’ll find someone like Susan, either. This is probably an insane plan, but I still think it’s a good one.”

“So I guess we’re all on the same page,” Artie says. Relief crashes into me. I’m not sure how I feel about Susan completely, but I sure as hell am not ready to let go of her.

We park the truck in the center of town, ready to distribute the logs to our customers. As we step out, I take a moment to breathe in the familiar scent of the town, a comforting mix of fresh air and the faint aroma of coffee wafting from the nearby café.

Our first customer, Mr. Johnson, who’s also the owner of the café, approaches with a warm smile. “Hey there, boys! How’ve you been? I heard you guys got stuck up there during the storm.”

I greet him with a nod and a smile, grateful for the friendly reception. “Doing well, Mr. Johnson. You know how it is around here.” He nods understandingly. “We’ve got your order right here.”

We unload the logs, stacking them neatly by his shed, and engage in a casual conversation about the recent snowstorm. Mr. Johnson is always full of stories from the café. Eventually, my brothers and I have to come up with excuses to step away.

Next up is Mrs. Ramirez, a kindhearted woman who always has a pot of homemade soup simmering on her stove. She greets us with a cheerful wave. “Ollie, it’s good to see you all! My fireplace has been waiting for those logs.”

We exchange pleasantries as we unload the logs into her woodshed, sharing laughs and catching up on the latest town news.

Throughout our interactions, I can’t help but notice the occasional curious glances exchanged between the customers, their eyes flickering from me to Ed and Artie. I wonder if Kevin has been talking about us, or even the two guys who came around to take away Susan’s car yesterday.

As we make our way through the town, I spot Denise out of the corner of my eye. My heart skips a beat, not out of excitement but rather a sense of impending confrontation.

She storms over, her eyes blazing with anger.

“Ollie, fancy seeing you here,” she says, her tone laced with a hint of sarcasm. “Or should I say, not seeing you at all?”

I meet her gaze, maintaining a composed demeanor. “Denise, long time no see. Look, I’m sorry if I haven’t been in touch, but things have been complicated.”

Her frustration is evident as she crosses her arms, her eyes narrowing. “Complicated? Is that what you call it? You disappeared without a word, Ollie. We had something, or so I thought.”

“Denise, we both know what we had was casual,” I reply calmly, though I can sense a tinge of indifference creeping into my tone. “I never promised anything more than that.”

Her eyes flare with anger, her voice growing louder. “Casual? Is that what I meant to you? Just a fling, a temporary distraction?”

I pause for a moment, gathering my thoughts. The truth is, I was upfront about my intentions from the beginning. Now, faced with her disappointment and anger, I find it hard to summon any remorse.

“Denise, we had fun together, no doubt about that,” I say, my voice remaining steady. “But it was nothing more than that.”

She shakes her head in disbelief, her voice tinged with frustration. “You have no remorse, do you? No consideration for how your actions affect others.”

“I didn’t toy with your emotions, Denise. We were both adults, enjoying each other’s company. If you’re upset about how things ended, I apologize for any misunderstanding, but I won’t apologize for my choices.”

She folds her arms in front of her chest. “There’s another bitch, isn’t there?”

“Careful now,” I warn her.

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