CHAPTER NINETEEN Chip
Two road plows from the county were busy clearing the main road from the town center that connected to the highway’s on and off ramps.
They’d cleared Main Street in front of the mercantile, as well as the main intersection of town, before we arrived to open the store, after three days of being closed.
Bright sunshine lit snow crystals like a billion diamonds exploding all at once. Crisp, dry air signified we were entering another frigid winter in these parts of mountainous Montana. Our small town was blanketed in a thick, insulating layer of snow, and few folks had dared to leave their homes.
The power was back on, and the backup generators I maintained for the store’s refrigeration were finally silent. After Van assisted me with shoveling the gas lanes clear of snow, we moved inside and were warming up before tackling a list of indoor duties.
“So?” Bertie whispered, making sure Van was out of earshot. “Did you shoot your best shot?”
I glanced down the aisle toward the men’s room where Van had gone. “He’s quite a nice guy,” I replied. “Friendly. Good conversationalist. Funny. I like him.”
“I didn’t ask for the entire essay, you idiot. Just give me the Cliff’s Notes. Did you get him into bed?”
I frowned at her, masking a desire to crack up, but ultimately decided on a holier-than-thou approach. “I don’t do stuff like that, Bertie,” I defended, pretending to be insulted.
She shook her head in disappointment. “And that’s why your gay ass is single.”
I grinned mischievously. “But I was sure happy it snowed us in for three days.”
Bertie grinned and clapped her hands. “I knew it!” she exclaimed, clearly excited by my disclosure.
“You don’t know shit, old lady,” I stated.
After making sure the coast was still clear, Bertie inched closer. “Sadie Hatfield is so pissed at me,” she whispered. “And I, for one, could not be happier.”
“You are an evil woman,” I hissed. “Leave Mrs. Hatfield outta this.”
“Nope,” she declared. Bertie motioned toward the restroom. “I happen to know that young man is the one. Not her city-slicker, wannabe-doctor grandson.”
I laughed in her face. “That young man is from the city,” I reminded her, pointing toward the men’s room.
“But he ain’t happy there,” she said. “I can tell he ain’t. Plus, the universe sent me a message.”
Now she had my attention. I’d forgotten Bertie had, on occasion, mentioned she communicated with forces of the universe.
On the rare times she’d brought it up, I’d brushed it off as nonsense.
I thought she was full of it, but I went along by ignoring her.
Ironically, Van showed up and claimed the same supernatural connection she was on about now.
“What the hell do you know about messages from the universe?”
Van stepped out of the restroom but got sidetracked by a customer looking for butter. I should’ve yelled to him where the butter was located, but Bertie had me distracted with her statement about messages from beyond.
“Did you forget about my unique abilities?” she inquired, tapping the side of her head. “How do you think he came to show up here? Who made that happen?”
“I suppose you think you did?” I asked, my tone suggesting she might have a screw loose. “Suddenly, the universe does your bidding?”
She crossed her arms and nodded. “Yes,” she answered. “Universe, God, whatever. All I know is I manifested him.”
“Manifested?” I asked. “Who are you?”
“I’m the broad who’s saving you. Because I sure as hell couldn’t wait for you to do a damn thing, son.”
Unexpectedly, Van appeared from around the corner.
Bertie hurriedly backed away when I jumped in surprise, and both of us looked guilty as shit.
I was certain I appeared flustered from her odd behavior and his sudden arrival.
I’d known her my entire life, and trust me, she’d barely mentioned shit like god, manifesting, or messages, or anything remotely related to the spiritual world.
“Did I interrupt you two?” Van asked, seeming self-conscious about being there.
I worried he thought we were gossiping about him, and I didn’t want him to feel bad. Trying to think of something to say without revealing Bertie’s rant about the universe, I waved his concern away.
“Work stuff,” I fibbed.
“Bullshit!” Bertie declared. “I was just telling Chip how I manifested your arrival.”
Van turned to me, and I rolled my eyes to indicate she was crazy. “She’s joking, Van,” I reassured. “You’ll get used to Bertie if you work here for a few days.”
Bertie locked eyes with Van, making sure she had his full attention. “I don’t mess around when I get messages from the universe,” she began, deploying her best from-the-beyond voice. “Especially when it takes human form like you, son.”
I gasped out loud. “Oh my god, Bertie!” I exclaimed, shaking my head at Van so he’d understand I thought she’d lost her marbles. “You’re insane, woman,” I added.
“Ask Vance. He knows,” she said to me before quickly turning toward him.
“Why do you believe you ended up in Missile, young man?” Van turned to me as if to ask if he should respond to the crazy lady.
She continued without receiving Van’s answer.
“I’m betting you were driving by and felt a strange urge to stop, or someone told you about this town. Which one is it?”
“Don’t answer her,” I warned. “She’ll probably tell you space aliens visit her regularly.”
“Well,” he began, a serious change overcoming his normally light expression.
“Someone did tell me about Missile,” he confessed.
Bertie dramatically lifted her arms and let them drop to her side, all the while giving me a told-you-so glare.
Van continued. “I’d planned on driving this route to Denver anyway, but someone advised me to fill up on gas here instead of stopping at the town before. ”
“Because we’re cheaper than St. Regis,” I blurted out. “Just a coincidence.”
“Is that true, Vance?” Bertie pushed. “Just a coincidence?”
I felt sorry for Van because he didn’t know he could simply tell Bertie to mind her own business or to fuck off.
She wouldn’t take offense. In fact, she’d probably brush right past his protest and keep yakking her nonsense either way.
But I’d learned he wasn’t the type to speak to an older individual in that manner. Or any individual, for that matter.
“Chip’s ex told me about Missile,” he disclosed.
Bertie’s eyes saucered. “I see,” Bertie murmured, shifting her eyes to me but remaining engaged with Van. She obviously wanted me to pay full attention to her. She studied me carefully before proceeding with her interrogation.
“And that’s all you need to know, Bertie,” I stated.
Of course, she ignored me. “So… you know John.” Her words were not a question. After making sure I’d heard Van’s admission about John, she turned back to him. “And please tell me how that came to be.”
“Don’t answer her,” I said to Van. “This is not your business, Bertie.”
She held her hand to my face while locked on Van. “He can answer if he chooses, Chip. I just want to know why he chose to stop here.”
“As it turns out, John is the boyfriend of my ex, Evan,” Van said. “John told me about Missile but never mentioned Chip.”
“Hmmmm,” Bertie hummed. “Coincidence, you say? Let me get this clear. Chip’s ex, John, is now dating your ex? And then Chip’s ex also mentions Missile, and you just up and decide to stop by our little town? Do I have that right?”
“That’s the gist of it,” Van confirmed. “John did say the gas was cheaper here. And then there was the storm, too. I was sort of forced to stop.”
Bertie uncrossed her arms, locked the cash register, and then walked around the counter, pausing in front of Van. She studied him for a few seconds while I dreaded what she might do or say. I loved the old bag, but she could be a grenade dropper.
“And you believe all that shit is a coincidence, young man?” Van, eyes wide and appearing a bit taken aback, vigorously shook his head. “You’d be correct in thinking not, son. Hogwash! You’re here for Chip. And Chip needs you. End of story.”
And with that, she shot me a parting look that dared me to argue with her and then headed for the storage room. I nervously shuffled my feet, my hands digging for gold in my jeans pockets. She hadn’t lied. I did need him. I’m not sure how I knew that, but the feeling was marrow deep.
“Seems Bertie believes in messages too,” Van spoke, breaking the awkward silence. “I misjudged her.”
“You judged correctly if you suspect the woman has never mentioned shit like that to me before today.”
He cozied up alongside me and stuck a finger in my side. “Relax, Chip,” he teased. “Maybe she sees things. Maybe she doesn’t. But I’ll tell you this much. Our meeting feels like divine intervention.”
“You honestly think that?”
“Why not?” he replied. “I’ve got nothing to lose by accepting that we don’t have the world figured out. What if she’s on to something too?”
I was skeptical but liked the possibility that the universe would intervene on my behalf.
If Van was put directly in my path, I’d be a fool not to explore why.
The fact that he was exactly the type of man I’d fantasized about for several lonely months only cemented the idea.
To me, the message was becoming clearer. I’d be wise to listen to the signals.
Here’s how I was beginning to see things: a man happens to cross paths with my ex.
My ex is now with his ex. My ex steers him my way.
Possibly by accident. Possibly on purpose.
Van had already planned to drive by my location, merely a few hundred yards from the highway, before he ever met John.
A once-in-decade storm strands him in the very town I live in. What are the frickin’ odds?
“I will admit, there are a lot of signs,” I said. “And you did say you were on a journey because of a message from who knows where. What if I am the man you’re destined to meet?”
“Then I’d encourage us to confront this with open eyes, mister.”
“There are ten days until Christmas,” I reminded him. “And you agreed to help me out around here until then.”
“That I did,” he agreed. “And…” he fixed his eyes on me, lifting his brows. “I like what I’ve seen so far, so I’m willing to give Bertie’s sixth sense some credence if you are.”
I extended my hand for him to shake. “Deal,” I said. “Now come out back to the garage and help me find Christmas lights for the store.”
Van continued to hold my hand while we stared at each other.
Strands of brown hair peeked out from under the wool beanie of mine that he wore.
His cheeks were flushed pink. A manly five o’clock shadow threatened to disguise his boyish face, all while his dark brown eyes twinkled under the store’s bright lighting, leaving me speechless.
I recognized another communication loud and clear. This message wasn’t from the universe. My heart sent this message directly to my brain. You’re falling in love. Chip.