Page 12 of Pain in the Axe
“Let’s not pretend I’ve amounted to much.”
She elbowed me in the ribs. “August Gabriel Hebert, don’t you dare speak like that about my son.”
Tilting away from her, I rubbed at my side. Shit, that hurt. “I’m trying.” But with all the recent changes in my life, I was barely keeping my head above water. “I’m trying to get unstuck, push myself, and figure out who I’m supposed to be.”
“From where I sit, you’re attacking it like you do everything else. Head on straight and with total commitment. Just like this puppy. That’s what makes you so special. Once you commit, you’re all-in. You go big, and you love completely.”
Wow, this visit had really taken a turn toward the emotional. With a deep breath in, I reined in the ache that had blossomed in my chest. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Did you watch the TED talk I sent you?”
I bit back a chuckle. “Not yet.”
She gave me a disapproving frown. My mother had recently become a devotee of Brene Brown and was pushing my brothers and me to read her work. I didn’t have the time, nor the desire to unpack all the things that were wrong with me. The preliminary list I had was already pretty long. The last thing I needed was to find more shit to feel terrible about.
“Look at the incredible art you create. The home you built.” She pointedly scanned the room, her chest lifting with pride. “Your commitment to your brothers and this town. You are a helper. It’s who you are at your core. And I’m so proud of you.”
She gently scratched Clementine’s ears, her steady, calm presence settling the pooch. Settling me too, if I was being honest.
With one last pat to the dog’s head, Mom stood and brushed off her pants. “I need to run. We’ve got a fall festival volunteer meeting this morning, and then I’m delivering meals for the food pantry.”
She leaned down and kissed the top of my head. “Don’t get up. She wants some love.” Mom dipped her chin at Clem.
Sure enough, Clementine’s nose was a few inches from my fingertips. I froze, being sure to keep my breathing steady so as not to startle her, and let her sniff me. Holy shit, she was getting more comfortable.
Mom headed toward the door.
“And about Chloe LeBlanc.”
My heart sank at the sound of her name. Dammit. I was hoping she’d forgotten.
“Don’t let her push you around. You’re smart, and no one knows that business better. If she can’t appreciate the incredible man you’ve become, then she can fuck right off.”
“Mom,” I snapped, causing Clementine to recoil. I couldn’t help the reaction. My mother never, ever cursed.
“Eh. I’m human.” She shuffled to the door and turned back to me. “I can throw around a fuck now and again.”
The sound of that word leaving her mouth a second time made me laugh.
“I mean it,” she said. “I raised you not to take any shit.” She blew me a kiss as she stepped outside. “Don’t forget it.” With that, she shut the door, leaving Clem and me alone in the silent room.
Beingin the office made me restless and anxious. Too much time without fresh air and trees would trigger my nervous system to shut down. But I was here, ready to assist my new boss in whatever crunchy-munchy bullshit she might need. I was operations manager now, whatever the fuck that meant.
I’d never really had a formal title, though I’d acted as both COO and CEO at one time or another. But I’d been working for this company since I was twelve years old and had done every single job at least once.
I’d scrubbed toilets and stuffed envelopes and driven for hours back and forth to the sawmill. I’d camped out in blizzards, and I’d dug out stuck tires. Through it all, I’d had dozens of injuries.
And I’d done it all for love. For the love of my family, our business, and our land.
Today, I was nothing more than an employee.
Chloe would make changes, sell off assets, probably reorganize. And all I could do was watch it happen.
Pure torture.
Desperate for fresh air, I’d escaped to the shop earlier to see Sam. He was one of my oldest friends. Long ago, we’d started out running machines together, and we’d bonded. He was quiet, thoughtful, and didn’t take any bullshit.
Now he was our chief mechanic. He ran the shop, oversaw our fleet of vehicles, and kept all our equipment in top shape. He was the older brother I’d never had, willing to talk and listen and sometimes just take a silent hike in the woods.
