Page 35 of Finding Yesterday

“Gotcha.” Jack nods. “That was just a—”

“You two have already hit the rumor mill?” Charley interrupts, rolling her eyes. “That’s, like, record pace.”

I rub my head. “I mean, we were in the wine cellar together before I called off my wedding. Alone. For a whole, what was it, ten minutes?”

“Something like that, yeah.” The corner of his mouth lifts.

“Folks around here were bound to come up with something.” I shrug.

“Well, of course they were.” Charley signals Uncle Ozzie for a beer. She lowers her voice when she says, “But you two aren’t helping things right now. Sitting over here, laughing together.” Waving her hands, she mumbles, “Sparks flying all over the place.”

“Right. Roger that.” Jack jams a thumb backward. “I’m going to the restroom. Maybe on the way, I’ll meet some folks.”

We wave him off, and Charley swings back to me. “Holy crap, Claire. I didn’t get to see him at the wedding…you know, after everything. He’s so hot in person. Well, I mean, hotter. How come you didn’t tell me that?”

“Because! I’d just run out on my own wedding. And, Jack and I have this…history thing. And, he’s my boss. You know, just a few little reasons.”

“I know, I know, it’s bad.” She sighs, rubbing her hands together. When Uncle Ozzie comes with her beer, she takes it, thanks him, and puts cash on the counter. Then she turns back. “Jack was making googly eyes at you.”

“Googly eyes?” I parrot, laughing, but I can’t help but wonder if she’s right. Maybe I hope she is.

When Jack returns from the bathroom, he says, “Okay, I tried to meet people. Sort of. But it turns out I really kinda missed that barstool right there.” He points at it.

“Sure you did.” Charley winks at him. “Well, I’m going to jump on stage and play my fiddle with Nate and the gang.” She picks up her case. “You two behave.”

Once she’s gone and up on stage, she works her way in, and I can’t believe how much better at the fiddle she is than I am. I guess she had the will to practice when I didn’t. Her grandfather taught her how to play, and she’s always loved doing it.

After relaxing into his chair, Jack takes a long swig from his glass before he says, “This is pretty perfect. Good music, good beer on tap.”

“I’d say it’salmostperfect.” I twist my lips. “We’re missing some salt and vinegar chips.”

Jack’s face puckers. “I can’t say that I agree with you there, but respect.” He holds his beer glass up for a toast. “Those things’ll put hair on your chest.”

“A risk I’m willing to take.” After I clink my glass against Jack’s, Larry, a regular here at Myrts, approaches us. I haven’t seen him in years, but he looks the same minus some hairs on his head.

He’s drunk, as he always is when he’s at Myrts. His wife, Carol, doesn’t let him drink at home. “Hey, Emma.”

“Hey, Mr. Larry, how’s it going?” I look at Jack and shake my head. It’s not worth correcting Larry. He’s too blitzed to tell me and Emma apart.

“It’s going. That’s as good as it gets when you’re my age.” He turns to the bar. “Hey, Ozzie! I love you, man.”

“Yeah, love you too, buddy.” Uncle Ozzie shakes his head. “Why don’t you sit down before you fall down.” Uncle Ozzie points at a barstool.

“No, I’m good.” Listing to the side, Larry looks at Jack. “Where’s your Pops?” Max and Larry have always been good friends.

“At the restaurant so I can have the night off,” Jack replies with a smile.

Larry waggles a finger, stumbling as he takes a step toward Jack. “I know what you did. I can’t believe you came back after what you did. Your Pops has never been the same.”

Jack goes wide-eyed. “What did I do?” His face pales as he blinks.

Larry studies Jack with one eye half-closed but is interrupted when Uncle Ozzie steps over to us and says, “Hey, Larry, it’s time to start drinking water. I can’t send you home like this. Carol will kill us both.”

“All right.” Larry shuffles to the empty barstool. “I don’t wanna sleep in the barn again.”

“That was weird.” I look at Jack, and his face is unreadable.

He blinks before finally looking at me. “What’s he talking about?”

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