Big Man's Contract

Taking a closer look at the back of my car, I see that my back axel is bent. Even if I could somehow manage to get my tire out of this hole, there’s no way my car will be able to drive without getting this fixed. I’m so frustrated I could scream. This town is nothing but bad luck.

I lean against my car, dejected. There’s a tap on the hood of my car that scares the hell out of me. I jump, nearly breaking my ankle when my heel wobbles. I’m able to catch myself before I fall. Madden is wearing that infuriating smirk on his face again. The one that makes me want to swoon and punch him all at the same time. Was he waiting for me in the parking lot?

“Looks like you’ll be needing my help after all,” he says.

I sigh. He’s not wrong. With as difficult as the townspeople are being, I don’t imagine I can get a tow truck to come out here.

“Fine,” I say, refusing to thank him even though I’m grateful for the help. My pride is far too overpowering to admit I need his help, let alone show gratitude for it.

He uses chains to hook my car to his truck. “Abe’s garage isn’t far from here,” he says.

I climb into the passenger seat of his truck and we drive down the road with my car towing behind. I can only imagine what this damage to my car will cost. Yet another thing that I’ll have to remove from my budget that I’d planned for the bar. Returning home hasn’t brought on the nostalgia that I’d hoped it would. So far it’s been less than pleasant. I’m starting to think I’ve completely run out of luck. Maybe this was a bad idea.

We drop off my car at the garage. Abe is sweaty and greasy, and has a little gray at the temples, but looks much like he did in high school. He tells me he can fix it but he’ll need parts and he’s not sure when they’ll arrive. I’m not too worried about that part. It’s when he refuses to give me an estimate that I start to get a little nervous. I don’t have much of a choice though. Whatever it is I’ll have to pay it. I need my car, after all.

Madden drops me off at my motel. There’s a girl behind the counter who looks like she can’t be any older than eight-years-old. She’s on her cell phone. Glancing up at me, she gives me an annoyed roll of her eyes and goes back to her phone conversation. I stare at her, waiting for her to say something. But she doesn’t. Instead she complains to the person on the other side of the line about how Bobby Miller was totally checking her out when she was in line at the movies and what a weirdo he is. What a rude little shit. To be honest, she sounds a little like I did at that age. Now I can see why my mom was always griping at me.

I have no patience for this. All I want is a warm shower and a comfortable bed. I’m overheated and exhausted after the long drive to Pepperhill and the strange day it’s been.

A woman my age comes out of the office and I’m relieved to see an adult. “Hi there, how are …”

We recognize each other at the same time. It’s Haley Greer, my best friend from high school.

“Linny?” she says, seeming astounded at the sight of me. There’s curiosity in her tone, but there’s something else too. Unease, maybe? Annoyance? I don’t remember us leaving on bad terms. But that’s the problem: I don’t remember even saying goodbye to her. Or anyone else, really. One day my mom and I just left. “Is that really you?”

“Haley,” I say. She looks just as exhausted as I do. There are bags under her eyes. She carries a little extra weight around the middle compared to the shapely body she had back in high school. She’s looks great though, if only a little tired. “You look fantastic. It’s been too long. How are things?”

“Oh, you know. Living the dream.” She pats her daughter’s head and her daughter swats her hand away. No wonder she looks exhausted. That kid seems like a handful.

“What are you doing back in town?” Haley asks.

“Fixing up my dad’s old bar. Or at least trying to.” I hesitate, then smile. “Would you like to go have dinner tonight, catch up? I’d love to hear all the gossip about what happened around Pepperhill after I left.”

Haley’s smile is as fake as the bright white veneers on her teeth. She hands me my motel key. “Gosh, Lina. That sounds like a wonderful idea, but my husband will be expecting dinner on the table after I leave here. You know how it is.”