Page 2 of Trucker
I signed and turned my eyes to the lights below us.
“Damn.” Moose muttered. “I forgot you’re running that place until then. How long she gone for?
“Two weeks. I think—I can’t remember.”
The length of Zoom’s time off was now sitting on my shoulders—no, on my head—along with everything else.
“How do you deal with burnout?” I asked. “Because I’m struggling right now. My bright sparks are Lena and then there’s Zoom and Kaos—my family outside of the job.”
Moose blushed in the dim lighting and drank from his bottle.
“I used to just take the time.” Moose told me. “I realized that taking a day just sitting at my place doing nothing—then another day out to not think about anything is self-care. It’s good for my mental health.”
“Mm. A stiff drink?”
Moose hesitated then nodded. “Sometimes. It’s just?—”
When I looked at him again, Moose stretched his legs out in front of him.
“Why argue with my captain about it?” Moose went on. “He’d just deem me unfit for duty and call it a day.”
I chuckled.
“My point is, I’d be forced to take time off anyway.” Moose shrugged. “But now with Pen—she’s my sanity.”
“Well, I’ll figure out some time to get some rest when I can.” I told him. “That’s the best I can do. I mean, they could bring us another captain to fill in for Zoom while she’s out. That comes with its own fair share of frustrations.”
“I get it.”
“But I don’t want my team to have to deal with that.”
Moose nodded.
“Makes sense.” He leaned back against the bench. “Listen, a Pen-fix may not work for you. We’re all different and this is—well, different.”
That made sense to me.
But as of that moment, I needed to get my shit together.
Soon I’d be running a place that couldn’t afford any kind of screw-up. My mind needed to be in the game or the results could be devastating.
The station needed me to be able to hold things down until we got our captain back. It made sense that I took over since I’d been there since the very beginning.
Thankfully, no one else had noticed me free-falling.
Inhaling, I straightened my back, grunted at the release it caused through my body and finished my drink.
By the time we returned to the reception, a few of the guests had gone because they’d been at the wedding all day.
The bride looked tired but was glowing with a kind of happiness I didn’t understand. Kaos was at her side, his bowtie undone and hanging around his neck as he shook hands and greeted other guests. I stood off to the side, allowing them to mingle.
“You know, you can’t hide how you’re feeling forever.” Moose told me. “Sooner or later, you’re going to have to tell someone. But even if they don’t notice?—”
“I won’t take it on the job.”
I read his mind.
Moose made a face at me.
