by Lynn Rae
“No, it’s okay. I have to go. See you tomorrow at noon.”
Nate frowned. “Right. Meet at the diner and then the farmer’s market. Are you sure I can’t help with—”
Shaking her head, June turned on her heel and fled to the parking lot and her waiting car, her canvas bag thumping at her side as she reached for her keys and opened the door. She didn’t look back to see if Nate had followed her around the side of the building. After tossing her bag into the passenger seat, she collapsed inside and closed the door, coming close to crushing her left toes in the process. Starting the car, June glanced in the rearview and backed out, already planning the quickest route to her grandmother’s apartment.
As she drove, she alternately cursed Simon and muttered wishes he was okay and merely needing to recharge. She knew it was a false hope; aside from part-time work at the hardware store, he did nothing more than watch television or sleep. Depression sapped his strength and will nonetheless.
Luckily, there was space on the street near Gran’s place, and June threw her car into park and hurried up the walk to the front door adorned with a wreath made from plastic macramé yarn threaded through some wire. Before she could knock, the door opened to reveal her grandmother in a mint-green jogging suit, wearing a sheepish expression.
“Sweetie, I didn’t mean for you to rush over here. He’s in there, and nothing’s happened for who knows how long, so why get excited now?”
June pressed a kiss to her cheek and walked into the narrow living room filled with furniture and dominated by a large china cabinet with her grandmother’s collection of souvenir plates. Telling herself to calm down and not allow any stress in her voice, June continued down the hallway and stopped in front of Simon’s door. He’d lived with Gran ever since her parents had moved to Phoenix four years earlier. For the most part, the arrangement worked out. Gran had company whenever he wasn’t feeling low, and her brother didn’t have to manage paying rent or bills on time. Everything would change when Gran moved to the Acres in a few days.
“Hey, Simon, what’s up?” June thought she managed a neutral tone fairly well. Silence greeted her efforts. Swallowing hard and pushing away her fear he’d harmed himself, she tried again.
“Just give me sign you’re okay, and I’ll leave you alone, I promise.”
Nothing.
June glanced at Gran, who shrugged and beckoned for her to come back to the living room. Once she got there, her grandmother led her to the kitchen and proceeded to fill two glasses from the tap. June drank hers quickly, parched from all the salty meat she’d just eaten.
“I’m not sure we should worry just yet. He’s done this before.” Gran wiped at her counter with a bright yellow dishcloth. “I remember when your Pop got like this. He’d be irritable for days, snap at me and the kids for no reason, go sit in the basement for hours on end. He always bounced back.”
“Has he been taking his meds?” June remembered Pop and wished, for her grandmother’s sake, there had been antidepressants available back then.
Gran shrugged and opened and closed her maple cabinet doors randomly. She wouldn’t find peace of mind in any of them. June had been searching for years and still came up short. The sudden vision of Simon dead from an overdose, or God forbid, hanging from an improvised noose, crashed into her mind and she shuddered. One would think after years of dealing with his sadness and volatile temper, she wouldn’t be this rattled by an unanswered door.
“Okay, how about I go outside and look in his window, make sure he’s there.”
“Already tried it, he’s got the shade down.”
“Gran, how did you get up that high?”
“Took my stepladder.”
June shook her head in exasperation. “You could have fallen and broken a hip. Then where would you be?”
“In the hospital and then the nursing home. I’m not stupid, Junie pie.”
“All right, I’ll try one more time, and then we’ll take the door off the hinges.”
“Can’t, they’re on the inside.” Trust Gran to have checked already.
“Then we’ll bust it in.” June hoped she had enough in her account for a new door in addition to a visit to a physician. She drained the last of her water, straightened her spine, and went back down the hallway. Settling on the floor, she leaned her head against the flimsy door and listened for movement.
“Simon, please talk to me. We’re both worried about you. How’s Gran supposed to know how much to fix for supper if she isn’t sure you’ll be joining her?”
“Tell him it’s meat loaf,” Gran whispered from the end of the hallway. June grimaced. She loved her grandmother, but the prospect of eating her meat loaf would guarantee a closed door. For a half a moment, June wondered if Nate Garner made meatloaf. Of course he did, and it was probably delicious, a thick, tender slice covered with a spicy ketchup glaze, perfectly seasoned, fluffy mashed potatoes on the side…She shook her head and turned her attention to the trouble in front of her.
“Just say a word to reassure me. That’s all I need.” If he didn’t make a noise soon, she’d have to decide if she was going to kick down the door herself, or go to the humiliating step of calling 9-1-1. Several years before, she’d had to resort to it in similar circumstances.
There was a thump behind the door, and she pressed her ear to the wood after making a shushing motion at Gran. Her skin prickled cold with worry as she listened. He might come out listless or ready to take a swing at her.
“June. I’m okay. Go home.” Simon sounded exhausted.
“Open the door a crack and let me look at you. I haven’t seen you for days.”
She thought she heard him curse. There was a rattle of the knob, and the door opened a crack. A drawn and unshaven Simon peered out through the few inches he allowed. June was ready to flinch away if he looked combative, but he was subdued and safe. “There, you’ve seen me.”
“Come on out,” June encouraged him. He looked fragile, too thin, too shaky. Her heart twisted. She had no idea what thoughts ran through his mind when he got to this point, but they had to be terrible.
“Have you taken your medicines today?”
He hung his head in a half nod. His unkempt blond hair looked like he hadn’t washed it in a few days, and from what she could see from her seat on the floor, he was wearing sleep pants and a dirty T-shirt.
“Come on out. By the time you take a shower we’ll have dinner ready. We can sit on the back porch and watch the squirrels fall off the bird feeder.” She used a happy tone and felt like a hypocrite, but her brother nodded his head and shuffled out of the room to walk to the bathroom. June sighed with relief when she heard the shower run, and she slumped her pained, tense shoulders.
Chapter 4
There was only one patron at the bar, deeply engrossed in his fresh mojito, so Nate felt he could wave Cousin Ted over to give himself a break. June’s abrupt departure earlier that afternoon had bothered him ever since, and he wanted to talk with her.
Once Cousin Ted was behind the bar and wiping down the well, Nate slipped away and exited the rear of his mother’s bar, stopping under a security light over the door. The pleasant June evening surrounded him with cool air, but he still felt hot.
He found June in his contacts and paused before dialing. She’d probably think it was weird he was calling her about something personal. He should just drop it, let it go. He was going to see her tomorrow anyway. As he shook his head and told himself to go back inside, his thumb hit dial. Shit. If he hung up now, she’d see his number as a missed call.
Taking a breath as the phone rang, Nate ran through all the things he could reasonably say. There weren’t many.
June answered with a cautious tone in her voice, and he wished he hadn’t done this. Leave her alone.
“Hi, I was just calling to see how you’re doing.”
“I’m okay.”
The silence stretched between them, and Nate decided that attraction he’d felt was one-sided after
all. He should stick with women looking for a good time and nothing more. Follow his mom’s advice, and not try too hard, not set himself up for disappointment.
“No, I’m not okay. Not really.” Now she sounded irritated.
“How about you come by the bar and have a drink. You can tell me all about it.”
He heard her sniff. “I suppose I could film you in action. It might look good in the montage.”
Nate recollected the almost empty bar and shook his head, even though she couldn’t see his negation. “No, just come down and hang out. It’s not busy, and I could use the company.”
Another sniff. “I don’t know.”
He was losing her. “Come on. I can make any drink virgin for you.”
“What makes you think I don’t drink alcohol?”
Nate fumbled for a response that wouldn’t insult her. She was just so proper he’d assumed she was a teetotaler. “Forget I said that. I can pour you a double of scotch or vodka. Whatever you like. On me.”
Nate glanced up at the night sky. Even though Palmer wasn’t a particularly large town, there was still enough ambient light to make the stars above disappear. He had the urge to get in his car and drive out into the countryside where he could pull over, lie on his hood, and stare into the darkness of space for as long as he liked.
“After the afternoon I had, it’s tempting.”
“You mean I wasn’t the worst part of your day?”
“Hardly. I think you’d really have to exert yourself to outdo my brother.”
Damn, the broken-armed brother was back in the picture. “Did you have to bail him out of jail?”
June laughed, a surprisingly earthy guffaw, which made him smile in response. He wished she was there so he could see her eyes light up. “Not today. He’s just feeling blue, and my grandma was worried about him. I was too. I still am.”
Her voice went quiet by the end, and Nate clutched his phone tighter. She sounded sad. “So, did I tempt you well enough?”
Another brief laugh. “I don’t think I’m going to answer that one. I’m too worn out to leave my sofa tonight.”
Even though she’d turned him down, again, Nate decided to read this as an opportunity to try again another night. He needed to up his game from the tried and true, you-want-to-hang-out-at-my-place-and-watch-a-movie tactic. Put some thought into it. Not really pausing to consider he’d just decided he wanted to go on a date with June Sinclair, and it seemed like he’d have his work cut out for him convincing her, Nate forged on.
“So, did you enjoy Walter’s Meats? Did you get good stuff on camera?”
He leaned his back against the wall and peered up at the hidden stars again as he listened to her talk about the corkscrewed hotdogs and asked him how he thought they’d done it. Before he could answer and impress her with his knowledge, the back door slammed, and Heather came out.
“There you are,” she said in a relieved tone, like she’d been looking for him for days. He held up a finger at his friend and made a half turn away from her so he could finish his call to June.
“June, I’m sorry, I was taking a break, and I need to get back to work. Tomorrow I’ll show you how they cut those, okay?”
She agreed readily and hung up the phone. Nate turned back to Heather, unaccountably irritated with her. “I was only out here about five minutes. What’s going on?”
Heather took a step closer and made a playful grab for his phone. He lifted it up too high for her to reach and wondered why she was being so juvenile. “Were you talking with that secretary?”
“I was, until you interrupted me. Her name’s June, by the way. I know I introduced you.”
“Don’t get so huffy. Come back in; your mom needs to talk with you.”
Nate sighed and followed Heather inside, carefully tucking his phone into his shirt pocket and buttoning the flap over it. Heather took a seat at the bar next to newly arrived regular, Bert Wolder, and Nate swung down the bar lift and stepped behind to find his mother inspecting the glasses hanging overhead.
“Found him,” Heather announced as she pointed at the beer tap. Nate grabbed a glass and pulled her a round, setting it on a coaster in front of her with a shake of his head. Maybe Tiny would show up and keep her company. She’d been shadowing him for the last couple of days, and he wanted a break. Bert gave him a friendly grin and went back to staring at the foam on his beer.
“What do you need, Mom?” Nate ignored his friend as she sipped her beer. Mojito man was halfway through his drink, so no need to intervene at this point.
“I want to talk with you about this show thing you’re doing.”
“I don’t know if I’m doing it at all. They have to invite me first.”
“What about your sister?”
“She’s the one who signed me up.” Nate picked up a bar towel and wiped some condensation off the polished wood in front of him. His mom had inherited the place from her parents, and he’d grown up around the business. She expected him to take over managing the place whenever she decided to retire, conveniently ignoring his happiness with cooking. That was a fight for another day.
“No, I’m talking about who’s going to help her if you go away? You know I don’t have the time to stop in very often.” Patty Garner adjusted one of her heavy rhinestone earrings and gave him a look daring him to contradict her. His mother did work long hours, but so did he and he managed to see Becky frequently. Nate had a feeling his mother liked having an excuse not to acknowledge she was a grandmother “before her time.”
“Her in-laws are over there all the time. She’ll be fine.”
His mom shrugged and walked around him to stand near Heather. The two of them had always gotten along well and shared similar taste in humor, clothing, and opinion of him. He hated it when they ganged up on him, and he wished his shift was over so he could escape their scrutiny. Out of the blue, Nate wondered where June lived. He supposed he could drive all over town and look for her parked car, but that seemed extreme. She might not even live in Palmer. She’d gone to high school all the way on the other side of the county. Maybe she lived in a cottage out in the woods.
“I don’t know why I’m worrying. It’s not like they’ve already bought you a plane ticket, is it?” Patty Garner curved her mouth in a disappointed line.
Nate tightened his mouth and went back to wiping the bar. He loved his mom, but her lack of confidence in him was a perpetual goad. Once he’d started school and failed to excel, she’d been quick to accept he had a mediocre intellect and hadn’t ever encouraged him to try harder or find a class he liked. He supposed his lack of smarts made her sure the bar business was for him, instead of bragging her son would grow up to be a doctor or lawyer someday.
“Heather tells me some woman at the school is helping you with the audition.” His mother glanced at his friend, and they shared a conspiratorial look, one that made him deeply suspicious. Bert looked up at the mention of a woman.
“Yeah.” Maybe if he mumbled and used messy words, she’d leave him alone again.
“What’s in it for her?” Mom raised an eyebrow at him.
“I don’t know. Becky asked, and she said yes.” He wasn’t going to mention June’s initial aversion to working with him and the slow thaw she was now undergoing.
“She’s making a play for you,” Heather piped up, her beer three-quarters gone over the course of a few minutes. His mom gave Heather an interested glance, and Bert leaned forward a bit on his stool.
Nate shook his head and cast about for some diversion. Why couldn’t a rowdy bachelorette party show up when he needed one? “Hey, Mom, the ice is low. I’ll go get a few buckets.”
“Stay there a second. Exactly how old is this secretary? I thought she was fifty.”
“I don’t know—”
“She looks about thirty years old to me,” Heather said and took another swallow of beer. She was probably right, considering Nate and June’s brother had been in high school at the same time. Had June ment
ioned if she was older or younger than her brother? Hopefully older. He liked older women.
“Mom, the ice—”
“Never mind that. At least she isn’t a cougar.” Patty Garner narrowed her eyes as she studied her son. “What do you think of this June girl, Heather? You met her.”
“Is she pretty? Maybe she’s a redhead. Nate, you could use a redhead in your life. Makes things more exciting.” Bert’s excited interruption made Nate smile. The bar regular’s ex-wife possessed bright orange hair and had apparently been so exciting Bert needed to divorce her to get some peace.
Nate didn’t want to continue this conversation but his mother had effectively boxed him in between the cash register and the ice bin. Unless he wanted to crawl away past the cash register, he’d have to endure. Heather finished her beer and leaned an elbow on the bar.
“Not a redhead, Bert, kind of a pale blonde. She’s little and wound tight. Prissy.”
June wasn’t prissy. She was precise. His mom snorted and eased to the side so Nate could pass. He edged away, anxious to get to the back and have a respite from the two women and matchmaking Bert.
“Oh, a petite, little blonde. Those are nice too, Nate.” Bert grinned and nodded like a cut-rate Hugh Hefner.
“Hey, Bert, what about brunettes, you got something against us?” Mom cocked out a hip and leaned against the bar to stare at her customer. Bert shook his head rapidly from side to side, his extra chin wobbling as he did so.
“Not at all. And I’ll prove it whenever you agree to go out with me.”
Patty Garner laughed and asked if he needed another drink. Bert agreed. Nate went to the back room and contemplated putting his whole head in the ice maker to cool off.
* * * *
After a busy morning rigorously regimented into laundry duty, post office, bank visit, and getting gas for her car, June found herself at the diner, waiting on Nate to finish his shift so they could stop by the produce stand on the outskirts of town and film a few more seconds for the montage. Her open planner kept her company; its neatly ordered and color-coded sections a comfort. Simon had a doctor’s appointment coming up she’d need to follow up on.