Page 35 of Second Chances
“Who knows?” Freddie replied and collapsed the extension ladder. He tossed the set of snips he’d been holding in his hand into the toolbox on the ground. “I don’t even bother learning their names anymore, he gets bored with them so fast now.”
“Well, I’m sure your mom will be happy to have both of her boys home.”
“Oh, she’s already planned a dinner party to show him off. You two should come.”
Megan looked at Josh and he looked back at her, “Well, I guess that depends on Megan. Are you interested in meeting Logan Brush?”
“Logan who?” Megan had never heard of him.
“That’s a no then, Freddie. Thanks for the invite though.”
“Don’t worry. You can still go to the public skate with Logan, although it will be packed. I’m sure my mom will send you some leftovers.” Freddie picked up his toolbox. “See you guys tomorrow.”
“Bye, Freddie,” both Megan and Josh chimed in unison and watched him trudge off down the sidewalk.
“Who is Logan Brush?” Megan asked as she admired a poinsettia wreath in the frosted window of the florist shop.
“He played hockey in the NHL. A little of a hometown hero here. His team won the Stanley Cup and he brought it here one summer. All the hockey kids in town lost their minds, Logan Brush is bigger than any movie star here.
Josh stopped and looked at the wreath in the window. “Is that a poinsettia?”
“It is. It sure is pretty,” Megan said.
“Sure is,” Josh replied, but Megan noticed that he wasn’t looking at the florist shop at all.
“I could use a drink,” Megan said quickly.
“Me too. I think it’s time for you to visit the Last Chance.”
“Is it the only place to get a drink in town?”
“It’s the only place for locals,” Josh smiled and pulled open the medieval style door.
“What about Timber? Are we just going to leave him tied up outside here? Won’t he get cold?”
“First of all, Timber is a husky. He loves the winter and snow, but secondly, he can come in with us.”
“What, into the bar?”
“Yeah,” Josh said. “You’re going in, and we’re not heating the outdoors here...” He was holding the door to the bar wide open.
Megan peered into the darkness, took a deep breath, and stepped into the bar. All of the tables were full of men either wearing work clothes or snowmobile suits, their hair messy from wearing hats or helmets all day long. The bar smelled like stale beer and body odor.
“Is it always this packed at four p.m?” she asked.
“Yep,” Josh said and sidled up to the bar. He pulled out a bar stool for Meg and took a seat beside her. “The guys are just getting off work, or in from a day on the sleds. The busiest time of the day, actually.”
“Hi, Josh.” The bartender leaned against the bar. “What can I get you?”
“What’s the small batch of the day?” he asked.
“It’s an IPA – Bonecrusher they’re calling it.”
“I’ll take one of those.”
“And for the lady?” the young bartender smiled at Megan. Was every young man in this town impossibly good looking? He was cute in a disheveled mountain man kind of way. She squinted past the jar of pickled eggs, trying to make out the writing on the blackboard. She had been avoiding getting her eyes examined, and either the writing was impossibly blurry, or she needed reading glasses. When she couldn’t make out the menu she just muttered, “I’ll take what he’s having.”
“That’ll put some hair on your chest,” the bartender laughed. “You’ve got a keeper there Josh.”
