Page 40 of Story of My Life
But he was already gone. A second later the truck’s engine roared to life and Gator, his rig, and my rental drove off down the road.
“We need sanitizer, dinner, and you need some clothes that don’t smell like Lucille Ball stomping grapes,” Zoey decided. “In that order.”
“I guess that means we’re walking to the general store.”
10
CAPTAIN POUTY MAN BEAR HOT DOG FINGERS
CAMPBELL
Seriously?”I said from behind the wooden hardware bin organizer that served as the store’s counter when Trouble and her sidekick slunk into the general store’s front door with the jingle of the bell.
Melvin roused himself out of his dog bed from his nineteenth nap of the day and trotted around to greet the new customers.
“Hey there, buddy,” Hazel said, leaning down to squish Melvin’s furry face between her hands. His wagging tail slapped an entire bin of insect repellent sticks to the floor.
“Nice, dog bear,” Zoey said, politely tapping him on the head before backing up several feet.
I’d agreed to close up for the night to give my dad some time with the numbers on the Heart House job that absolutely wasn’t happening. It had been a slow night, so I’d entertained myself with a few minutes of online research into Story Lake’s newest resident.
Okay, fine. Forty minutes. I was bored, okay?
According to the internet, the woman making kissy noises at my sister’s dog was a best-selling author of nine “zany” small-town romantic comedies. The search engine had also served up her social media, and I’d been trying to covertly watch the videoshe’d posted in the middle of the night two days ago between the trickle of customers.
“Listen, pouty man bear,” Hazel said. “I don’t have the energy for round two with you. Can you please point us in the direction of laundry detergent, any clothing you might have, and snacks? Then we’ll be delighted to get out of your hair.”
Zoey’s eyebrows lifted. “Look who’s rediscovering her backbone.”
“It’s easier to be mean to him because he’s a jerk and won’t take offense,” Hazel explained.
“Whatever, just hurry the hell up,” I said.
“See?” Hazel said, pointing at me.
“Carts are behind you. Cleaning supplies are in the aisle markedCleaning Supplies. And we don’t have any clothing someone like you would want in her closet,” I said, not feeling the least bit guilty for being unhelpful.
Hazel shook her head and grabbed a cart. “I’m starting to question the sanity of fictional women everywhere. How would you not hold a pillow over his face after a while?” she asked Zoey.
“Fictional women are more patient and better rested,” Zoey said. “How cute is this mosquito repellent thing?” She pointed at my sister’s bug spray display that probably should have been redone ages ago.
“Adorable,” Hazel said dryly.
They walked past me, and I caught a whiff of alcohol. A big whiff. But I was too busy pretending to ignore them to ask any questions.
“You wanna hurry it up? We’re closing,” I snarled ten minutes later.
“Actually, you’re not closing for another twenty-four minutes,” Zoey said, popping out of the grocery aisle with an armload of snacks.
“Zoey worked retail through two holiday seasons in college. She won’t let me go inside a store if it’s within ten minutes of closing,” Hazel reported. Her cart was full, and as much as I wanted to complain about her presence, the store could use a big fat sale even if it came from a pain in my ass.
I sniffed again as she marched over to a display of locally branded apparel. She smelled like she’d taken a bath in a vat of communion wine. “You been drinking?”
“No, but my luggage has,” she said distractedly as she held up a mustard-yellow tank top that saidStory Lakeacross the chest. She threw it in the cart, then added a pair of matching shorts, a T-shirt depicting lake fish by size, and a long-sleeve shirt in hunter-safety orange.
Laura would be thrilled. She’d been dying to order newer, less awful apparel, but Dad refused until we sold every last piece of garbage he’d commissioned five years ago. Maybe if I was feeling big brotherly on my next shift, I’d slap a fifty percent off sign on the rest of the crap and be done with it.
“Haze, I found wine!” Zoey called from the row of coolers on the back wall.
