Page 14 of Almost Perfect
Mom pressed her lips together and nodded, all seriousness.
“Better change the subject or you’re doomed,” I mumbled, irrationally annoyed at their shared excitement. She was a world-famous model-turned-popstar. She was easily the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen in real life, and I hadn’t even let myself look at her full-out. She was also bad news, probably a druggy, and mixed up in some kind of mess that made her hide away in a mountain town and wear hats low on her head so no one could see who she was.
“Right! Well, then let me tell you about this new space I found.”
Mom made anooosound, always ready to hear War’s next big idea. I enjoyed it too. He had an energy and excitement about life I’d lost at some point. I just felt… tired. Like a neglected saddle, the leather leached of any finish and unpatchable in the torn places. And I couldn’t say I didn’t know why. I did. That whole feeling—well, that and realizing I had no prayer of finding a wife and building a family if I kept at work the way I had been—had pushed me to make a change.
But here, months later, I still felt tired. And kind of old. Like someone should bring along a replacement.
You should be grateful, not whining.
That inner voice’s admonishment was well placed. I should’ve been grateful. My father hadn’t lived this long. He’d had a family, sure, but he hadn’t even hit his thirtieth birthday. I tried to start my day with gratitude, knowing each sunrise was a gift not everyone got. But damn, sometimes that practice was pure discipline. Especially lately.
“Don’t you think, honey?” Mom asked.
“Sorry, what?” I must’ve been farther in my head than I’d realized.
Warrick wiggled his eyebrows at me like he thought he knew something I didn’t know.Ugh, this kid.
“I was saying that I leased this great space over by the Silver Ridge Brewery, the second mill building. It’s walkable from anywhere in town. I’m setting up a bootcamp-style class. If there’s enough interest, I might expand it to become a gym, but I figured I’d start small.” He leaned back and eyed me.
The waiter, Brodie, popped over and took our orders—Mom and I got the same thing we always did, and Warrick got one of about fifteen things he rotated through with an extra side of guac. Once our menus were out of the way, War’s eyes settled back on me.
Then came that little flash, the look I’d seen before and recognized as a slip of vulnerability, and it took off any edge I had. He was tough, but he wanted my approval. He had it, always, but I needed to remember that at times like these.
“I’m sure there’ll be interest. People always want something coming out of the season before summer. Can you get the equipment you need?” I could float him if he needed, though knowing him, he didn’t.
“I’ve got a fair amount of it already, actually. I got tires and sledgehammers. I’ll round up ropes, and I got approval to install bars for pull-ups. I’ll be tailoring my workouts to simpler routines until I’m earning enough to build out a bit more.” He scooped salsa onto a chip and chomped down cheerily.
One thing I appreciated about Warrick was his conservative approach to entrepreneurship. He might seem a little all over the place sometimes, but he never spent what he didn’t have, and he always had a business plan. Occasionally, I forgot how methodical he was, because that sunny disposition and charm tricked me into thinking he was more fly by the seat of his pants than he really was.
What I’d never fully appreciated was that being serious and dedicated could look different. I knew that, but my own version of focus had meant excluding almost everything else and waking up to realize those fields I wanted to harvest had gone fallow.
Maybe I envied Warrick’s ability to juggle his projects and social life and still stay connected to his family. He might not have a wife and kids yet, but he seemed to constantly spend time with people, no app needed, and he was eight years my junior.Hehad time.
“Sounds wise, honey. And what about…” She raised her brows.
“Dating? Nah, no dating for me these days. That’s all Wyatt’s specialty.”
Mom perked up. “Really?
My glare should’ve withered him, but nothing could penetrate that thick skull of his. Plus, I hadn’t been hurt like he had, and though it’d been years, I understood he wanted to be pressured about this even less than I did. Though he went out, I had noticed it was never with the same woman twice, and they all seemed to be a more fun version of my own first dates. “Nothing sticking, no. But I do have another date lined up for tomorrow night.”
“Anyone we know?”
Damn, but I hated disappointing her. She’d given so much of herself, and all three of us knew she wanted grandkids. Desperately. She’d already claimed Wells and Liam’s baby as her own grandchild, though she was technically a grandniece. Or something? Whatever, I hated not being able to tell her I had someone amazing, and we’d start cranking out babies tomorrow.
“Remember how there’s no last names? So it’s specifically made so you can see a photo but maybe don’t know the person. From her photo, I couldn’t tell. She seems nice enough from chatting a bit.”
“Oh, this is from RuralMatch, that app,” she said, nodding like she understood.
“Yeah, how do you—” I froze.
Warrick jumped in. “Wait.Wait.Mom, are you on RuralMatch?”
She blinked furiously and ducked her face into the margarita Brodie had just delivered.
“Seriously, are you?” he prodded.
