Page 57 of Hunt for the Roses
“Ronnie! I need help with this box!” I call out from the main seating area of my father’s restaurant. It’s Saturday afternoon, exactly one week since Dane and I saw each other, and I haven’t heard from him or seen him. I think we’ve both been staying off each other’s radar.
“Here, I got it,” Ronnie says as he takes the heavy box from my hands and sets it on the floor. The tables and chairs have been placed, and the light fixtures are being mounted today. But since I know nothing about the electrical trade, I’m only here to hand out tools. Easy enough.
Ronnie uses a box cutter and starts ripping the cardboard open to retrieve the light fixture inside, and I’m at his side as he’s stepping on the ladder working whatever magic he needs to work in the ceiling.
“Your stocky ass better stay up there because I’m not about to die from your body falling on mine,” I say as I look up to my brother.
“Yeah, well, sometimes shit happens,” Ronnie jokes.
I chuckle. “Okay, seriously, what do you need me to do?”
He puts his hand out to me. “Pliers. They’re on the bar countertop.”
I feel like a medical assistant as I hand him the appropriate tool, and then I start to mindlessly shuffle around from foot to foot, spinning slowly on my heels since I’m bored. “I promised Mom I’d make the centerpieces for the grand opening. Now she won’t stop asking me about them, and I guess I should have seen that coming from a mile away,” I joke.
Ronnie laughs. “Yep. You only have yourself to blame.”
I throw my hands in defeat. “Well, I feel useless doing nothing while you help with important jobs. What was I supposed to do?”
“Not give Mom any opening to start harping on stupid shit,” Ronnie says.
“Yeah, I guess that would have been the way to go,” I admit. “But I did find some great ideas online, so I’m actually looking forward to keeping my mind occupied.”
“Haven’t you been going out with your friends more lately?” Ronnie asks.
I start to feel nervous Dane’s name is going to be brought up, so I respond indirectly. “Well, when I’m home, I like to keep my mind busy, I guess.”
“So maybe Mom’s nagging will be worth it,” Ronnie says brightly.
I laugh. “We’ll see.”
“Can you hand me the pendant? I think I’m ready to connect it,” Ronnie requests.
I bend down to grab the light fixture and place it in my brother’s outstretched hand. “One down, only eleven more to go,” I cheer optimistically.
“Uh huh,” Ronnie echoes as he connects the wires of the pendant to the ones in the ceiling. It’s a few minutes until Ronnie finds the proper wiring, and when he wraps them successfully, I smile wide. But just as soon as I draw a smile on my face, it starts to frown when I see Dane entering the restaurant in my peripheral.
“Need some help?” Dane’s strolling into the restaurant looking between Ronnie and I, but I’m pretty sure he’s directing his question to Ronnie since I’m not doing much of anything at the moment.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Ronnie says as he looks down for a quick second.
Since Dane and I haven’t spoken civilly recently, this is kind of awkward. I choose not to say anything, frankly because I don’t know what to say, and I just look at the ceiling pretending I’m micromanaging Ronnie’s work.
“Are there any other boxes I can grab?” Dane asks.
“By the bar,” Ronnie responds as he points.
Dane just accepts the job, and he brings a couple more boxes near us, setting them down on the floor. “Need me to cut these open, or do you want to hold off?”
“No, I’m getting these done today, so open ‘em up,” Ronnie says. His eyes are focused on covering the wiring with the fixture plate as Dane grabs the box cutter off the bar counter and gets into action. “So what do you think so far?” Ronnie asks.
“Looks great. I’m sure your dad is psyched,” Dane says.
“He’s in hisglory,” Ronnie says as he steps down the ladder and pulls his phone from the back pocket of his jeans. “I’m going outside for a second, I need to call Cheryl back.”
I wave Ronnie off with a tight-lipped smile and once the coast is clear, I look at Dane as I shake my head. “Dane, what are you doing here?”
“I imagined you’d slam your door in my face if I came knocking on it. I also assumed you wouldn’t have answered a text or call from me either.”
