Page 216 of Story of My Life
“Come on,” I said, climbing to my feet and offering her my hand.
“Where are we going?”
“You’re helping me pack my laptop and driving me to the lodge. I can’t write here. Not worrying he might show up at any minute.”
“That’s the spirit! I already stocked up on soda, cheese curls, and ice cream,” Zoey said.
46
DROPPING THE HAMMER
CAMPBELL
I screwedthe final pressure-treated cap into place and tested it for wobbles.
It was a sunny Thursday afternoon. I was working alone on replacing part of the Fish Hook’s deck railing after Willis threw Chevy through it during a drunken reenactment of a dramatic fishing story.
Things were good.
Fall was in the air. A few early leaves were previewing the color to come. My sister was out of the hospital and back to her usual ornery self. There were no farm animals—ailing or otherwise—waiting for me at my apartment.
And I was fucking miserable.
I felt eyes on me and turned to glare at Lang Johnson and Kitty Suarez, who were having a late lunch on the deck. Both women immediately picked up copies of Hazel’s books, opened them, and shot me death stares over the spines.
News of the breakup had traveled faster than usual, and the rumors had quickly spiraled out of control. Lines had been drawn. Teams chosen. And Team Cam was mightily outnumbered.
Not that I cared.
The whole thing was ridiculous. It was a private matter that had been settled privately. People were acting like they were personally invested in a relationship that had never been more than a casual hookup.
I hadn’t seen Hazel in person since I’d ended things. I’d avoided her house for nearly a week out of deference to her feelings before my brothers bothered to tell me she was working from the lodge. They also seemed to take great pleasure in telling me the woman didn’t seem to have any feelings toward me that required my noble deference.
Garland’s coverage of her on Neighborly had gone from exaggerated rumormongering to excessive adulation. And in case I missed a post from our resident technological busybody, the whole town had taken it upon themselves to update me on how good or happy she looked when she stopped in to the bookstore or when she and a group of Lakers hit up Angelo’s for dinner and drinks.
Or how great she was with the pack of kids who followed her everywhere on their bikes.
I’d always assumed I would have kids. But in a show of what even I recognized as undiluted male privilege, I’d never given much thought to how I’d get them. An unnecessary flash of family life with Hazel had me hurling my tools back into their plastic tote with violence.
I wondered if my brothers ever thought about having kids. But the Bishop Buttholes message group had been suspiciously quiet since I’d done the right thing and ended it with Hazel. Gage and Levi were still talking to me on the job. Though now that I thought about it, they kept finding reasons to send me off by myself. Like right now.
Laura had been dodging my texts and calls. And I hadn’t received the last two official invitations to Bishop Breakfast.
I told myself I was fine with it. Ilikedsolitude. So what if I was spending an unhealthy amount of time looking at Garland’s pictures of Hazel on her social media? I was doing the iocaine powder thing fromThe Princess Brideand building up a tolerance to a poison. It was just that in this case, the poison was my feelings.
I was supposed to feel better. I was supposed to feel relieved. Instead I felt…hollow. Anxious. On edge.
Maybe I’d swing by the store and see if Levi wanted to grab a beer. He was covering for Mom while she took Laura to the doctor for a follow-up.
“Psst!”
Rusty pulled me out of my whiny-ass reverie. I spotted him clambering around on the rocks below me.
“What the hell are you doing down there?” I demanded.
He brought his finger to his lips and shushed me. “Keep it down. I don’t want anyone to catch me talking to you.”
“Seriously?” I debated chucking my drill at him, then decided I didn’t want to go out and buy a new one. Besides, I had the distinct feeling Levi was just waiting for a reason to make me his first arrest.
