Page 82 of Townshipped
“No more than an hour, an hour and a half tops.”
“Okay,” she says, “see you when you get back.” And just like that Em willingly turns into my impromptu babysitter.
Before I turn to grab my coat, Em reaches over and places a reassuring hand on my forearm. I wonder if she sees the turmoil behind my smooth exterior. The world may be falling to pieces around me, but a simple touch from her puts me back together. And that’s why I have to get out of here.
I tell the kids I’ll be back in a bit. Neither of them bat an eye at my announcement. They’re too eager to start reading the book with Em.
As I shut the door, dragging my invisible sack of guilt behind me, Ty’s voice carries onto the porch. “Don’t forget! Ten pigs!”
Duke said he was at the garage this afternoon. His dad and he had some extra jobs come in, so they decided to work on their off day.
Duke told me to park around back so no one gets the hint that he’s in there. Fine by me. I don’t need people wondering why I’m in town, or interrogating me about Em and the kids.
The classic smell of grease and metal greets me when I open the back door. My voice echoes as I walk through the storeroom and call out Duke’s name. He’s got 1970s classic rock coming out of a small portable radio on his workbench. I sometimes tease him that he was born fifty years past his prime.
“Over here,” he says, rolling out from under an old Pontiac. He stands and wipes his hands on a rag hanging out of the pocket of his coveralls.
“Want a pop?” Duke asks.
“I’m good. Thanks.”
“So, what’s got you running away from the farm the day after you arrive home from your cousin’s funeral—besides the obvious.”
“The obvious?”
“You’re overwhelmed. Try to be all things to all people and you’ll end up being nothing to anyone. We’re only built to carry so much. You’re taxing your payload.”
“Car speak.”
“You know. It means you took on more than you should. Something’s gotta give. Even the great Aiden MacIntyre has limitations. Know your limits and live within them.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“Maybe. But we’re not talking about me this time. What’s really eating at you besides being a new dad, having a dog that hates you, and trying to run a farm and a business?”
He tilts his head like I need to see my list of obligations from his perspective. I won’t admit it to him, but maybe I’m starting to get a glimpse of how I’ve taken on a bit much this time.
“The dog likes me a little more today.”
As if that’s any consolation when I look at the laundry list of obligations and responsibilities that is now my life.
“You’ve got two kids and a woman depending on you. Sort of like an instant family. For a guy who’s used to being alone seventy percent of the time, I’d say that’s a big change.”
“You’re right. It’s not too much yet. But I feel like it’s going to be. They can’t just come here and slip right into my life like they belonged here all along, can they?”
“She did.”
“Yeah,” I agree.
Em did.
And that’s a whole other piece of this ball of confusion rolling around inside me.
I look Duke in the eye. He’s almost more of a brother to me than Trev. That says a lot. True, Duke’s like a giant child at times, and he shows more commitment to his car and the shop than he’s ever shown a woman, but under all that, Duke’s a good man. And he’s got my back.
I run my hand across the back of my neck. He watches my tell. I do the same thing when we’re playing cards and I get dealt a raw hand.
“I’m gone. So gone.”
