Page 42 of Middle Ground
Eddie wastes no time. He marches up to Jackson and shoves a finger into his chest. “You got rid of my bench.”
“The one out front that was falling apart?” Jackson asks. “That bench?”
I nod. “Yes, that’s it. The one that holds a lot ofsentimental valuefor Eddie.”
“My wife was sitting on that bench when I met her,” Eddie adds. “That wasourbench.”
Jackson’s gaze flits to me, unsure. I shrug, but inside, I’m grinning. “I can appreciate that, sir, but it really was in poor condition. Someone could’ve gotten hurt if they sat in it.”
Eddie’s voice takes on a choked up quality as he says, “It was all I had left of her.” Now Jackson looks downright stricken. “This is what happens when you city folk come in and try to change everything. You wreck things!”
I almost feel bad about the guilt written on Jackson’s face.Almost.
“I’m sorry, sir,” he says. “I’ll get your bench back.”
“I’ve been visiting that bench for the last sixty years,” Eddie continues. He truly is a good actor. “Don’t fix what ain’t broke.”
He takes a step back, like he’s preparing to leave,and then he looks at me. Eddie and I stare at each other for a beat, and then we both start to laugh. He leans against the doorframe, tipping sideways from the force of his guffaws.
“Alright, I’m…confused,” Jackson admits.
This only makes us laugh harder.
“That never gets old,” Eddie declares, slapping his thigh.
Jackson crosses his arms. “What is going on?”
“Rite of passage to work here,” I explain. “Try being fifteen and only officially on the job for an hour. Eddie almost made me shit my pants, thinking I had done something to ruin his connection to his late wife.”
“Then your mama had to go and cut my fun short,” Eddie adds with a pout.
We dissolve into laughter again, but Jackson just shakes his head. Before he leaves, Eddie pats me on the back, and then he offers Jackson a handshake.
I’m still smiling as the door closes behind the old man.
“He is wrong, you know,” Jackson says. “I know it was a joke, but I really am trying to help.”
A sliver of guilt settles in my gut. Slowly, I nod. “I know,” I say quietly, meeting his gaze. “I’m…starting to see that.”
CHAPTER 16
JACKSON
The police have officially givenup. With nothing new to go on, our vandalism case has hit a dead end. I wasn’t hopeful to begin with, especially with it being such a low priority offence.
Meyer has all but brushed it off, acting like it didn’t even happen. I can’t forget that easily, though. I’ve tried, but every time I see that siding, now repainted a fresh coat of white, it all comes back up again.
I knew Reggie was a problem. I should’ve fired him myself the minute I realized what a screwup he was, Meyer’s protests be damned. If I had taken care of it, he wouldn’t have had the opportunity to yell at her. To call her a bitch.
Despite all our ribbing and volleying of sarcastic remarks, I’ve never seen any words land for Meyer quite like Reggie’s. The fact that he was able to rattle her to the point of tears has a renewed sense of anger washing over me as I enter the farmer’s market in town.
Almost the entirety of Main Street has been closed offand a plethora of tents have been erected to shade the attendees. A lot of businesses with storefronts have taken to the street to get out in the May sunshine, but there are a lot of smaller entrepreneurs taking their chance in the spotlight, too.
Almost as soon as I get pulled into the crowd, I spot a familiar head of blonde hair in front of me. Meyer had mentioned she had errands to run this morning, but she hadn’t told me what. Like a moth drawn to a flame, I close in, sidling up beside her.
“Ditching work to go shopping?”
Her cool gaze slides in my direction. “I’m supporting the local economy. You should be all about that, Mr. Business.”
