Chapter Five #2
As soon as we were safely in the dry car, Emery turned to me. "That’s a terrible hat."
“Your mom’s a terrible hat.”
He snorted. “Did you just make a joke about my mom?”
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
Emery laughed and shook his head. “I thought we were more mature than that.”
“Clearly you thought wrong. My immaturity runs deep.” I chuckled and nodded toward the road. “We going or what?”
He tsked and started the car. “Not sure I want to be seen with that hat on your head, but whatever.”
I defiantly tugged my baseball cap more snugly on my head. "What do you have against my hat, anyway?"
He shrugged. "It makes your ears look funny. Hides your eyes, too."
"Whatever you say.” I chuckled and rolled my eyes. "Just drive."
He put the car in gear and we headed out.
Emery took us to the grocery store and we wandered the aisles, filling the cart with snacks and beer and very little that was of much nutritional value.
As we made our way through the frozen foods and ice cream aisle, I peered into the cart and looked at Emery.
"We should probably get some things for real meals, don’t you think?"
He looked into the cart and shrugged. "Looks good to me. Maybe we get real meals next time."
I sighed. "At least let’s get some instant ramen or something."
"Only if I can get cheesecake for dessert."
"Jesus Christ," I muttered. "Fine, deal. When did I become the responsible one, Teach?"
He shrugged. "Maybe the students are influencing me. Or the terrible school lunches."
“So much for that maturity,” I murmured, trying to suppress my grin and failing.
When we made our way back to the cabin, the rain had nearly quit coming down.
It made unloading the groceries—if you could call them that—much easier.
Emery spent the rest of the day picking up sticks outside and clearing the yard.
The storm hadn’t done us any favors in that regard.
I joined him once I was sure the water in the cabin was running safely.
As the sun began to set, I turned to Emery.
"Want me to make another campfire?"
"Sure, yeah."
It didn’t take long for me to get a fire crackling in the fire pit. As I settled into a camp chair to enjoy myself, Emery came up from behind me and handed me a beer.
I looked up at him with a smile. "Thanks, man. I appreciate it."
"Sure thing," he said, tapping the brim of my hat. I glared at him, though it was without venom, and he shrugged. "Ugly hat." He settled into his chair and groaned, a sound that made my stomach twist in an unfamiliar way. "So," he said, looking into the fire.
"So."
Emery looked at me. "How’d you get to be so handy, anyway? It’s not like you were spending a lot of time on a construction site when we were teenagers.”
I frowned at him, furrowing my brow. "You want to know how I got into construction?"
"Sure." He sipped his beer. "Why not?"
“I thought you knew this story.” When he shook his head, I continued.
“It was my grandpa. He was really handy around the house when I was a kid. I guess I was about seven or eight when my parents bought our first house, across town. Looking back, it was a real shithole. A fixer-upper, if you know what I mean. I’ve seen a ton of before and after pictures.
I didn’t know it was bad. I thought it was great.
I had my own bedroom, and that’s all that mattered.
And Grandpa came to our place every weekend and helped us fix it up.
First we did the flooring. Ripped out ancient carpets and discovered hardwood underneath.
He taught me how to tear up the carpet carefully, so I didn’t hurt myself.
We put carpet in my bedroom and my brother’s, and I helped with measurements and rolling it out.
He never let me do anything too dangerous.
I didn’t handle power tools or anything.
But he taught me everything he knew. Once our house was finished, I was around ten.
Grandpa had gotten the bug then. He bought another little house down the street.
We fixed it up together. And then another.
And the rest is history. I helped him until he passed away. "
Emery nodded slowly. “All that before we got to be friends?”
“Yeah,” I said, a soft sigh escaping me. “I didn’t think about it again for years, until college. As you know, football wasn’t exactly a career path for me.”
“Hell, man, I figured you just jumped into construction because it didn’t require a degree. I had no idea about your grandpa.”
I sat back and took a swig from my bottle with a shrug. I never talked about this stuff. Not with dates, not with friends, not even with family. He nodded and we sat there in the quiet for a long time before I spoke again. "How about you?"
Emery smirked. "I don’t do construction."
"Fuck off. You know what I meant. What made you want to be a teacher? Was it really because our English teacher junior year said you were a talented writer?"
He shook his head. "No, but it’s not interesting."
I snorted. "I doubt that very seriously."
"Okay," he said skeptically. "Well, when I went to sign up for classes, I had no idea what I wanted to do.
The girl in line in front of me asked for Intro to Education, and she was cute, so I did the same thing.
Ended up taking her out on a few dates, nothing serious. But I got a career I love out of it."
I stared at him, incredulous. "Seriously?"
"Yep. I thought you knew all that, though." He lifted his beer to his lips and drank as I shook my head.
“That is definitely not the story you told me when we were eighteen.”
Emery shrugged. "I didn’t really want to tell anyone the real reason I was taking education classes, you know? I love my job, though. I really do. The most ironic part about it? The kid behind me in line also wanted that class, but I had taken the last spot."
I snorted and shook my head. "You’re a menace. Crushing some college kid’s dreams just to try to get laid."
"Gotta do what you gotta do." After a moment, he stood and stretched. "Be right back. Gotta take a leak."
As Emery wandered off into the woods to find the perfect tree, I stared into the fire, watching the sparks crackle and the flames dance.
There was a weird, jealous gnawing in my chest over the thought of him deciding on his life’s work because of a girl he wanted to get with.
I took another sip of my beer and tried to shake it off.
A few minutes later, Emery was back, standing next to me, both of us looking at the fire.
I looked up and at the sight of him, dim sunlight behind him, fire crackling and casting shadows on his face, my breath caught in my chest. He looked down and grinned at me mischievously.
Before I had a chance to ask what the hell he was smiling about, he snatched my baseball cap off my head.
"What the—"
"I told you, it’s a terrible hat. I’ll give it back if you promise not to wear it again."
"Screw you,” I drawled, hoping to lull him into a false sense of security. A beat later, I jumped up, lightning-quick, and reached for the hat. I thought I’d be fast enough, but Emery was faster.
The next thing I knew, he’d taken off into the darkness with my hat, laughing and yelling, "Come and get it."