Whiskey and Country

6

NICHOLAS

Aweek later, I was in my apartment with Tucker, watching a hockey game on TV, while he cursed nonstop at the defensemen for doing a shitty job. “C’mon, Jonas,” he screamed at number forty-two. “If you keep playing like this, Jace will win this year’s fantasy hockey. Damn it. Two of my players are off for the season, and my defenseman is playing like he’s never been on the ice before,” Tucker whined. “No way I’ll let pussy-whipped Jace win. I’ll never hear the end of it.” He downed the beer in his hand.

“Next year, maybe you’ll listen to me for once. My team is doing pretty good so far. I still have faith I’ll beat Jace,” I said with a wink.

“Jace has insider information. I bet Hamilton filled his form. Do you think he’s on it?”

“Oh, someone’s jealous,” I teased. “Be a good sport, man”

Tucker nudged me in the ribs as I laughed at his defeated demeanor.

“Glad you’ve got some of your sense of humor back, man,” he said, halfway ready to jump at the TV screen and shake some sense into the players himself. “I’ve missed this side of you. The one not taking himself too seriously.”

“Pushing that button changed me. Forever.”

“I know. Still, your old self is seeping through. You’ve changed. It’s hard to explain. As if you are more adult now. It’s not a bad thing, just different. Nobody said you had to choose only one or the other. Perhaps you can find a way for those two sides to coexist.”

I sighed. “Yeah. It’s been a rocky road. Some days are better than others.”

“What did you decide about that promotion?”

“Nothing. Cody has given me one more week to agree to it.” I peeled the label from the beer bottle in my hand, my eyes fixed on nothing. “My gut tells me I shouldn’t. And I have no idea why. I’ve been dreaming about an opportunity like this since I was a teen. Everything I have done in my career so far has been toward this goal. Guess my priorities aren’t the same anymore. That’s the only explanation I can give ya.”

“What are you gonna do if you decline?”

I shook my head, meeting my friend’s worried gaze.

“No idea. Money and a seat at the table just seem silly now. There’s more to life than this. It’s like I’m re-living the same day over and over. The world is spinning, but I’m still, stagnant, stuck at the same hour of the clock. I need to break the cycle, to find happiness again. My balance. To redefine my place in life.”

Tucker cleared his throat. “What about a vacation? Could do you some good. Do something different for a while. Go places. Fresh air. And—” A mischievous glint flashed in his brown irises. “You should get laid. It’s been a while. Could bring you some peace of mind. And relax that body. Get the angst out. Daisy, the girl I’m fucking these days, has a friend. Long legs, great tits, red hair. Everything you have a boner for. Anyway, let me know if you’re interested. I can put in a good word for ya.”

“Damn it, Tuck. Casual fucks aren’t my thing anymore. Already told you. And a pussy isn’t a magic wand. I’ll pass. But thanks for offering. I prefer the vacation idea.”

Tucker chugged the rest of his beer. “If you change your mind, let me know. In case I—”

The doorbell rang, cutting my friend short, and I rose to my feet, grateful for the interruption.

“Did the pizza delivery guy teleport himself here? I called fifteen minutes ago,” I wondered with a shrug as I grabbed the two twenties on the counter.

“Noooo. Not again. Please, someone get Jonas out of the game,” Tucker hollered from behind me, his eyes throwing daggers at the TV. I breathed out a laugh as I yanked the door open.

On the threshold stood an older man, probably in his late sixties, studying me with a frown and a no-nonsense expression on his grave face.

He held a large manila envelope and a box in his wrinkled hands.

“Huh, can I help you?” I asked as his eyes scanned the length of me.

“Nicholas Peterson?”

“Yeah, it would be me. What can I do for you?”

He pushed the envelope and box into my hands.

“My name is Thomas Jefferson—”

I cocked a brow, waiting for him to continue. Was he kidding me? Thomas Jefferson, yeah right. He must have seen my reservation because he made a business card appear and shoved it between my fingers. I studied the white rectangle. Thomas Jefferson. Lawyer.Whoa, his parents must have had a blast when they named him. Maybe they were high. Or did they lose a bet? I pushed the thoughts away.

“Don’t be sorry. I get that look a lot. My parents were a bit too patriotic. Anyway, I was mandated by Mr. Derek himself to deliver this to you in person.” He averted his gaze and nodded. “I’ll let you to it. Mr. Derek was a nice boy. He told me great things about you. Have a nice night, Nicholas.”

The words jammed in my throat. I mimicked Mr. Jefferson’s nod as I held out my hand to shake his. My eyes followed him as he walked to the elevator, never looking back. What the—!

He said Derek sent this. That made no sense. I shook the box, but no sound emerged from it. Once I clamped my jaw shut, I joined Tucker in the living room. He zoomed in on the package in my hand.

“Where’s the pizza, man?”

I blinked and shrugged.

“Huh, yeah. About that. It wasn’t the delivery guy. The food isn’t here yet.”

He pointed at my hands. “What’s this? Man, you look like you’ve been hit by a truck. Did you see a ghost? You okay?”

I bowed my head, not knowing what to say.

“You all right?” my friend asked, springing to his feet to join me.

I snapped out of it. “Yeah. Fine. Some lawyer dropped this off. Said it was from Derek.”

“What are you waiting for? Open it.”

We sat around the square kitchen table as I tore open the flap of the envelope and pulled the sheaf of papers out.

I recognized Derek’s handwriting and artistic abilities when a DIY card, made of orange construction paper, caught my sight. I studied the drawing on the top for a long minute. Derek had drawn both of us, me and him, with matching grins, eating our weekly cheeseburgers, a baseball game playing on TV in the background. How many nights just like this one did we spend together? I lost count a long time ago.

To Nick,

I love you.

Forever.

Derek

My throat closed. My heart slammed against my ribcage. A million thoughts ran around in my head. How? When? Why did Derek send me this? At that moment, I longed to ask him. I wished I could hear his voice, breathless with excitement, filled with his contagious sunshine cheer, telling me everything would be okay.

Beside me, Tucker studied me in silence. I felt the weight of his stare on me. With my gaze down, I handed him the card.

He read it over and loosened the tie around his neck.

My insides trussed into a barbed coil. A fresh surge of emotions washed over me. I scrunched up my face and inhaled through my mouth until my lungs were on the verge of bursting, then exhaled a long, painful breath.

Beside me, a low fuck left my friend’s lips. “This is sick. You fine?”

I nodded, not sure I could muster the courage to speak right now, everything inside me fickly.

With my fingertips, I rubbed my temples.

“Mm-hmm.”

With glossy eyes, I scanned a letter Murielle wrote and pinned on the top of the pile of paper.

Dear Nick,

Thank you for everything you did to brighten Derek’s life. All of this was his idea. He put everything together himself.

Nick, don’t let life pass you by. You and I know how precious it is. Grip every bit of it with both hands. Enjoy every moment. Seize the chances.

Be wild (a little at least). And be brave.

I’m going to Greece for a while. As you know, I have family there. A change of scenery will be good for me. Being home is too painful.And Derek made me promise I would finally go on that trip. After putting it back for years. And because I need to live again. Those were his exact words.