1. John
1
JOHN
PRESENT DAY
It’s been a long night at the bar, and normally, I’m not this tired, but I slept like shit. I’ve already closed for the evening, my barback Seth took out the garbage on his way out, and I’m finishing cleaning the floor when there’s a knock at the door.
Goddamn it. Better not be Walter or one of our rowdier customers who can’t handle their liquor.
Instead, it’s Uncle Chuck, which immediately makes the hairs on my nape stand on end. “Is everything okay?” Our family has had its share of tragedies, and this late-night visit brings it all back.
“Yeah, of course, sorry. Didn’t mean to alarm you.”
“No, it’s cool.” I move aside so he can enter the bar. “Want a beer?”
“Only if you’re having one.”
“Sure, why not?” I usually don’t drink during my shifts, but afterward, a cold one goes down nicely. He plops down on a stool at the bar while I pour us each a glass from the tap.
“So, what brings you here?” I slide his drink to him. “Just blowing off steam?”
“Yeah, maybe a little.” He averts his eyes. “I asked Dina to let me break the news to you.”
“What news?” Now I wonder if this so-called news is the reason I got some interesting looks tonight. But no one had stepped forward to say anything to me, even though there was plenty of whispering. I can’t imagine what it’s regarding, but I suppose I’m about to find out.
“Old Man Malone passed away.”
I frown. Mr. Malone is Micah’s grandfather. He must’ve been in his mid-seventies, and Micah loved him, but they always butted heads. The old man was the alternative to foster care when his dad gave him one too many fat lips.
Though Mr. Malone never abused Micah like his father did, I still never much liked the man. He was stubborn and cold and didn’t provide Micah with the emotional support he deserved, but he did give him a safe place to live while he finished high school over in Sunrise Bay—the school kids from Aqua Vista attended because we were lacking in numbers around here. Aqua Vista would be considered more of a village, while Sunrise Bay was a bigger town with more resources. It worked out well and wasn’t a far drive. In fact, it was closer to the fishing docks where Grandpa Malone worked—and for a time, Micah too.
I tried to reach out to him after Micah left for Hollywood, but he never returned my calls. He became a bit of a recluse, eventually developing health problems and employing Rosie, a live-in LPN who also doubled as his housekeeper.
The rumors that Malone was a grumpy, scary ghost were rampant, to the point where the kids around here would ride their bikes into the foothills, challenging each other to get close to his so-called haunted house.
“Does Micah know?” My gut churns, imagining his reaction. Close or not, it’s hard to hear a family member has passed. Unless it’s his asshole father. That man will get everything he deserves in prison for vehicular homicide. I hope.
Uncle Chuck nods. “Called him after Rosie broke the news.”
“Why did she tell you and not him?” Or me, for that matter.
“He was her first call. I was only on the list because of the potential sale of the property.” Uncle Chuck not only runs a beekeeping business, but is a part-time real estate agent in Aqua Vista. Not many properties to move around here, but he gets the job done. “Malone had it all worked out, with a deed transferring the house to Micah upon his death. He wanted his grandson to decide what to do with the property. He assumed he would sell it and use the money however he sees fit.”
I understand the assumption since Micah has been gone for years. Still, I’m glad to hear he had Micah’s best interests at heart.
“Thing is, not sure the property will get much interest, let alone sell.”
“Why not?” The large Tudor-style house certainly has good bones, but maybe the old man let it go over the years. Overgrown gardens, peeling paint, or whatever.
“It’s a wreck. Malone was a pack rat, and there are stacks of strange things in every corner of that place.”
Come to think of it, Micah did tell me once that there was a room upstairs with a collection of seemingly useless stuff. “Must’ve gotten worse in the last few years.”
“Understatement,” Uncle Chuck says, his lips thinning in a severe line.
Well, damn. “What was Micah’s reaction?”
“Haven’t heard yet. But I left a message, making it clear he needs to get back here to deal with his grandfather’s estate and affairs, given he’s also the beneficiary of the living trust.”
“Which is why you wanted to warn me,” I mutter, and he nods.
I swallow thickly, thinking about the last time I saw Micah in person—it was after the accident that took my parents and brother-in-law about six years ago. By that time, we had agreed to a legal separation so he could continue pursuing his dream. He kept himself busy between acting classes and auditions, along with a server job at an upscale restaurant in the evenings. The city is expensive, and it’s the only way he can afford to live there. In fact, unless something’s changed, he still rents a room from some guy who’s a financial analyst. Dennis, I think.
The first year apart was tough. I even closed the bar for two weeks to stay with him, testing out the idea of living there, but it only made me miss running my own business and hate the city more. And he knew it too. After I returned, I was even busier with my bar and he with his career, so the distance between us only grew.
He followed me home after the service for my family and held me all night. It was a comfort having him there but also painful. He stayed a few more days until I urged him to go back to his life in LA. We argued, a fight I picked because I couldn’t handle the thought of him leaving me too. Not after getting used to him being here again. He looked disheartened as he packed his car to head back to the city, and it likely led to him leaving me a final mournful message: that it was best if he officially filed for divorce. It gutted me despite both of us having a good reason for it. But I was never served the papers.
Maybe he got busy, or maybe he’s only stalling—just like me. If either of us were truly serious, it would’ve happened already. It still will. One day, he’ll meet someone he wants a future with in LA. Hell, I’m surprised he hasn’t already.
Jack told me to move on. June too. And I have—as far as getting my needs met. I’m fine giving my body, but never my heart. At least not yet. Micah owns the whole of it, and unless that changes, I’ll just be here, living my life as I see fit.
My parents would be bummed if they knew our separation had stretched this long. Mom especially had a soft spot for Micah, and it was mutual. One of his greatest fears about leaving was that he’d be disappointing her too. But she didn’t interfere. In fact, she understood my logic and supported us both. God, I loved her for that.
But Micah’s never far from my thoughts. I seek out his small roles in movies—he’s usually an extra—and his commercial and modeling campaigns. I stalk him on social media because I want him to do well, even if seeing him through a screen makes me ache all over. No way I’d ever want to hold him back. Besides, look what happened to my brother, Jack, when he tried doing the long-distance thing. A clean break became necessary. The fact that we got married on a whim was only incidental, but still, I would never take it back.
“Thanks for the heads-up,” I say as Uncle Chuck guzzles the rest of his beer and stands.
Once he leaves, I finish setting the chairs on top of the tables so I can sweep the floor, my thoughts on a spin cycle about Micah coming home.
Home. No, it’s never felt that way to him. How could it? He was a mess when he arrived in this town, and when working in the fishing industry with his grandfather didn’t pan out, he found something else to ground him in the form of Ms. Hart and the drama department. I like to think I was part of building his foundation, but evidently not enough to anchor him to this town, which, true, offered few opportunities, if any. No, he’s better off where he can bloom.
I scroll through my phone to his number, my fingers hovering over the keys until I finally type: Sorry to hear about your grandfather.
In the end, I don’t send the text. I figure I’ll tell him in person soon enough.