Chapter 1 #2
“Brad, I’m sorry. I didn’t plan this,” she started, and he tuned out.
She sure didn’t just magically keep showing up at Chris’s house for six months when she was on her way home to Brad.
There was, maybe not in the beginning, but definitely after that first meet up, a plan.
He tuned back to hear the end of her obviously scripted speech, “…and we just both still absolutely love you and couldn’t imagine getting married without you there. You just have to come.”
That was it. He would have loved to be the bigger person, but he couldn’t hold back anymore.
“Jules, that’s a nice sentiment, but it seems kinda bitchy to say you couldn’t imagine me not being there.
I was supposed to be the one on the other end of the altar waiting for you.
But I was always waiting for you, wasn’t I?
Waiting for you to be ready, for your career to take off, then for a break in your career so you could plan a wedding.
Turns out, the whole time you were waiting for me to turn into someone else. ”
“That’s not fair,” she said, softly. He pushed the image of her pouty bottom lip from his mind, determined not to be manipulated by it, or her, anymore.
“No, it’s not, is it? This whole thing sucks, but it’s your life, your choices that got us here, so I hate to be the one to break it to you, Jules, but you’ve gotta live with the consequences.”
“Don’t you think I am?” she asked. He almost laughed out loud again when he recognized her fake-crying voice, the one she used when she wasn’t with him, where he could call her on it.
“No, I don’t think you’ve dealt with anything.
You still got what you wanted. A wedding, to be the center of everything, and a groom who doesn’t know what he’s gotten himself into.
” That was a low blow, hitting her below the belt, but he no longer cared.
“Just one question, Jules.” When she didn’t answer, he took that as his cue to continue.
“Why Christmas? That was our day.” He was breaking every rule he’d made after their breakup to not let her see how much she’d crushed him, but he couldn’t hide it anymore.
“It still felt right, to honor what you and I had, what led to this,” she said. Brad could feel his heartbeat in his fingers, they were so tightly clamped on the steering wheel.
“That’s a load of bull,” he said. “You moved on like nothing ever happened, except a change in the guy standing at the end of it all. Well, I can’t give you an answer on whether or not I’ll come, but Jules, I hope to God he makes you happy, that he was worth all this.”
Brad pressed the “End Call” button on the screen and the music resumed, filling the extended cab of his truck.
As he drove, he noted how many of the places in Banberry dripped with memories of Julia and him, or his and Chris’s friendship.
The diner, Jules and Verne’s, hosted Brad and Julia’s first date freshman year of high school—and had led to his first kiss as well.
Mitch Davenport’s hardware store was where Brad and Chris had worked through senior year.
Brad had taken a second job at the library, more his speed, but he’d cherished the time with Chris, pulling pranks and practical jokes on each other between customers, waiting for Julia to drop off his favorite mint Oreo milkshake near closing, walk him to his car after his shift, kiss him passionately against his mom’s ’94 Passat.
It was impossible to escape their ghosts, and though they haunted him everywhere he went, Brad was more worried about running into their corporeal forms in town. This town would never not be theirs.
It still didn’t answer the question of whether he should go to the wedding.
God, he wanted to so he could see them off, then cut the ties that bound them all from childhood.
It was also too small a town for him not to go.
The hushed whispers at the bar would be about him, what he’d be doing that night instead, how depressed he must be, questions about whether he’d ever move on like the lead protagonist in his novel series hadn’t.
If he surprised the town by showing up, he could stymie the gossip at least for that night, after which, he hoped everyone else would move on as well.
A car slowed in front of him and he slammed on his brakes, barely focused on the road.
I can’t believe I’m considering this.
Before he made any firm decisions, though, he’d do a lot more thinking, probably over a six-pack of beer. But before that, he had a long day at the public library. He figured since that’s where he cranked out the meager beginnings of his stories on their old PCs during slow hours—that he owed them.
The library was a nice environment to give back to his community for a few hours a week. He was still around his other great love, books, and it had the added bonus of avoiding his folks’ questions about him and Julia.
As he pulled into the parking lot, the light on the edge of the horizon just starting to peek through, he called the only person who would be able to shed some light and sprinkle some humor on the situation he was in. His friend, Steve, picked up on the first ring.
“Happy Monday, pal.”
“Is it?” Brad asked.
Steve chuckled. “What’s up, man? Wanna get some breakfast? I’m gonna head into town later, and it sounds like you might wanna talk.”
“I do, but I just got to work.”
“Jesus. It’s still dark out, man. Why’re you even out of bed?”
“It’s eight a.m., Steve, not midnight.”
“Yeah, but the Seahawks took a hit last night, so it might as well be Saturday morning the way my liver feels. And my head. Ooh, that sucker’s mad at me too.”
It was Brad’s turn to laugh. “Some of us have to work no matter how the Seahawks perform,” he chided.
“Nah, you don’t have to. Not like you got to take care of that woman anymore, or that your zero dollars from the library would have helped with that anyway.”
“Ouch,” Brad joked. “Too soon, bud, too soon.”
“Plus, you’re gonna be a big movie star, right?”
“Not quite. My novel will be the star, I’ll just be a byline at the end of the credits.”
“Whatever. Same diff. Congrats, man. You deserve it. Jules must be mad as hell that she blew it just before the good stuff started rollin’ in.”
“One can only hope. But still, I gotta get through today.”
“You don’t ‘gotta.’ Just be like the rest of ’em—throw some money at the library and call it a day. Come ice fishing with me.”
“It sounds enticing,” Brad admitted. Maybe he’d find a way to donate some of the proceeds from the movie deal to a new library wing.
It wasn’t a half-bad idea. “Anyway, I do have to talk to you. Some interesting developments that I could use your expertise on. Could you come by the library later, whenever you deign to get out of bed?”
“I think I can manage that. Why don’t I pick up Joe’s for lunch?”
Brad’s mouth watered at the mention of Joe’s subs.
They were part of the reason he could never see moving out of Montana, especially Banberry.
Joe was a friend of theirs who had quit his job as a manager of a major Northwest supermarket chain to open up his own sandwich shop because, as he put it, “This town eats like shit and has shit for choices on where to eat.” He’d opened five years ago, and at lunch time, there hadn’t been a day when there wasn’t a line around the block.
It was successful enough that he could open a bar as well—Cowboy Joe’s, the guys’ favorite watering hole within Banberry town limits.
“Sounds good. See you soon.”
“Later.” Steve hung up first.
Brad reluctantly turned off the truck, less than thrilled about the biting cold that would envelop him when he left the heated comfort of his ’20 Tundra. He’d have to really consider relishing in at least one of the perks of making it big—no need for a job.
Until then, he would just have to slog through the sifting of books and his emotions until Steve could come and relieve him. Man, what a day this had turned out to be, and it was only eight a.m.