Page 58 of Delivery After Dark
“How’s it going in here?” asked Terry, one of the guys who worked at the gym.
Terry’s question roused Morgan from his contemplative state. “It’s going. Our boy Billy was a disaster at organization.”
“Yeah, he was, but he was amazing with the clientele. They loved him.”
“They sure did. That’s all I’ve heard for months. I suppose that was what mattered in the grand scheme of things.”
“It’s what made the place so successful. We all looked forward to seeing him every time we walked in the door.”
That was the magic Morgan wasn’t sure he could replicate. He was personable enough, but Billy had always been the gregarious, outgoing one. “That’s nice to hear.”
“Can I help?”
“You’re already helping by covering the front desk while I clean up in here. Appreciate that.”
“Sure thing. Give a holler if you need anything.”
“I will. Thanks.”
The guys who worked for Billy had been a source of tremendous friendship and support since tragedy struck. He was convinced he could leave them in charge of the place, and it would continue on largely as it had in the past, albeit without their buddy there to make it special.
Morgan had been amazed by how much money the gym brought in each month, with a tidy profit left over after payroll and other expenses. If he were to stick around, he could live comfortably off the proceeds and had a ready-made home at Billy’s place. But did he want to assume his late brother’s life on the remote island he’d worked his ass off to escape once upon a time? That was the burning question that kept him awake at night lately.
Duke Sullivan poked his head in. “Heard you’re digging out the office today.”
“You heard right. It’s a job and a half.”
“Billy told me a few weeks before the storm that his New Year’s resolution for next year was going to be getting organized here and at home.”
“I wish that had been his resolution for this year.”
Duke chuckled. “That would’ve helped. Speak of help, my fiancée, McKenzie Martin, had begun doing some bookkeeping for Billy a month or so before he passed.”
“Is that right?”
“Yep. Since the payroll and most of the bills were handled automatically, she didn’t want to bother you with that while you had so many other things to deal with, but she asked me to give you her card. Give her a call when you’re ready.”
“I’ll do that. Tell her thanks for me.”
“I will. If there’s anything else we can do, you can find me at the tattoo studio.”
“That’s good to know. Appreciate it.”
“You got it.”
This island… It looked different to him as an adult. He’d spent the first eighteen years of his life working as hard as he could to escape the place he’d considered a prison. His parents and brother had loved it. Morgan and his sister had hated it. With hindsight, he wished he could get back those years he’d spent miserable while still living with the family he’d lost one by one.
He’d wasted time he hadn’t known would be so precious to him later.
In the months he’d been on the island since the hurricane, he hadn’t yet been able to bring himself to drive by the house where they’d lived growing up. Back then, his dad had worked as a captain on the ferries and his mom as a nurse at the island clinic. They’d had a really nice life on the island, surrounded by good friends who were like family.
Morgan hadn’t appreciated what he’d had then. He’d hurt his parents with his disdain for the island home they’d loved. He’d felt guilty about that for a long time, even more so after they died. That he was even thinking about moving back to take over the business his brother had worked so hard to establish probably had them rolling in their graves.
He thought of Mac McCarthy, who’d shared his contempt for island living back in the day, but was now married to a local woman and raising a family with her while helping to run the family’s marina and a construction business, too. For someone who’d hated it there as much as Morgan had, Mac was now firmly entrenched. Maybe he could shed some light on what it was like to live here as an adult versus a kid.
Morgan looked for the contact info Mac had given him weeks ago, when Billy first went missing. He’d said to reach out if there was anything at all he could do to help. Morgan sent him a text.
Hey, it’s Morgan. Was wondering if you have an opening in your crazy schedule for a quick beer one of these days. Thinking about our shared dislike of island life as kids and how you’ve made it work since you came back. Trying to figure out what I’m going to do about the gym and other things that would require me to relocate to a place I once couldn’t wait to escape…
