Chapter 2
TWO
JOSEPH CARL MORTON
Could my day get any better?
I mean, it was January in the Midwest, so it was cold, no doubt about that.
Give me a sun-warmed fall afternoon with crunchy, colorful leaves scattered across the ground any day.
But, in the grand scheme of things, it was a damn good day.
The sun was shining, and the temperature wasn’t below freezing.
I was back home where I’d longed to be for so many years.
My favorites were still available at Glazed Buns, and they had a drive-thru now—someone even let me slip into line in front of them. How nice was that?
Haven Grove even had a roundabout. It threw me for a loop for a split second, but I’d adjusted quickly.
Before leaving the city, I’d splurged and bought a new-to-me truck—an absolute beauty I would’ve been psyched to drive back in the day. It drove like a damn dream heading down the county road toward the bait and tackle shop.
And I was about to take over the family business.
Teenage me of over a decade ago wouldn’t believe it.
Or maybe he would. I had dreamed of working at the bait and tackle shop my grandparents owned for as long as I could remember.
Of course, back then, the dream included my best friend helping me run the combined family businesses. Cooper’s Campground and Morton’s Bait & Tackle would have been a damn beast if we’d been able to take over as adults and keep our forces combined.
As it was, the future of the campground was unknown and out of my hands—although, in her letter, Grandma Wendy indicated Pete Cooper wasn’t against the idea of keeping the two businesses combined.
We could figure out the details. All I knew was I was back home in Haven Grove and ready to take on the next chapter in my life.
No more hiding who I was.
No more pretending to love someone just because my father said it would be good for our family name.
No more slowly and quietly dying at a job I hated in a city that ate away at my soul.
At twenty-eight, it wasn’t like I had a lifetime of experiences to base my future on, but I knew I was a shit ton happier back when I lived with Grandma and Grandpa—a pang of sorrow sliced through me at the thought of his passing.
I hadn’t really seen it coming when Grandma Wendy and Peter Cooper ended up together, but it kinda made sense because the Coopers and Mortons had been such good friends and business partners.
Speaking of happier times…
For a brief moment, I let my head and heart drift back to my teen years in Haven Grove.
Warmth and hope swirled through me, but I shook my head and cranked up the volume.
I’d shot that part of my happiness with one stupid decision.
I regretted it, but staying hung up on it wasn’t going to change anything.
Did I wish things had worked out differently?
With every single fiber of my being.
But I’d accepted things didn’t always work out the way you wanted.
I didn’t consider myself the type of person to look on the bright side of everything, but I was determined to believe what happened in my past and every day since then was getting me ready for what lay before me.
I was ready to rebuild my happiness brick by brick with physical labor, fresh air and sunshine, putting my business degree to use, and filling my life with good people.
With a playlist blaring, I bebopped down the county road, sipping my coffee.
A Maple Monster, which was only the best breakfast sandwich in the world—two waffles, egg, a sausage patty, cheese, and bacon—waited for me in the to-go bag along with what I knew was the ooiest, gooiest cinnamon roll on the planet.
Sunshine, good tunes, delicious food, and the best damn coffee to ever flow past my lips. What more could a guy ask for?
A social life?
A love life?
I shrugged off the nagging voice in my head.
Those things would come. I was out of the city, back home, and away from my father.
Regret had no place in my future plans. Guilt still poked and prodded from time to time, but I was working toward making my peace with that.
I couldn’t help but believe everything would fall into place now that I was back in Haven Grove.
I just had to be patient and let the goodness of home happen.