14. Duke
FOURTEEN
DUKE
"We can offer you some discount tickets to some of the events around here. You'll just need to sit in on a presentation."
The couple sitting in front of me nod, looking a bit tired as their three kids bounce around them. I thought I asked a lot of questions, but it seems like these kids could break a Guinness World record.
"Okay, let me come up with a total for the discounted price and we'll get you all settled. Are you good to attend the presentation tomorrow morning?"
"The sooner the better," the wife says. "Whatever will help us get them into some activities and for cheaper."
I nod, imagining that entertaining kids while on vacation can sometimes be a challenge. At least that's what my parents always claimed. How they knew that, I'm not sure, since we'd stayed in a hotel probably once before I went to college.
I write up all the details and get them to sign everything. After running their card for the discounted fees to the kid’s museum and the dolphin experience, I wave goodbye and lock up the store.
I doubt that couple will be a good candidate for buying a timeshare, but that's not my job right now. I'm just in charge of scheduling the appointments and helping people get something out of the deal.
I clean up the office space and make sure everything is ready for tomorrow morning.
Today was fun, despite the slow traffic to my shop. Singing with Maggie and then taking a selfie with that biker on the beach had been something different, adventurous even.
I open the app and scroll through the many pictures that have been uploaded to it for the scavenger hunt.
As much as Willow Cove can drive me crazy with the lack of excitement, this gives me a little spark of hope that things might change. Not for me, realistically, but for the community to have some fun.
I find the picture that we uploaded for karaoke and my gaze lands on Maggie's face. She looks like she's just been through something traumatizing, and to be honest, I had to just make myself laugh to get through how bad our singing was.
Maggie looks more relaxed in our beach photo, like she's not trying to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders.
After learning more about Maggie, some of our issues made more sense. But for some reason, I want to keep hanging out with her. Maybe it's because I've never had anyone not like me on this level. I’ve been able to get along with just about anyone, floating among several groups in college.
Even my professor who didn't favor any students had cracked for me. Sure, my job isn't the best ever, but it's something that will help me achieve the life I want in the next couple of years.
I lock up the office and see Maggie in The Candy Jar. She's sweeping around the round tables that hold all the canisters of candy.
Opening the door, I say, "Do you need some help?"
Maggie jumps and says, "Uh, no, I think I'm good."
"How did the day go?" I ask, not wanting to walk too far into the store. We've got to work together for the next several days on this scavenger hunt and I don't want to do anything to disrupt whatever good mojo we produced today.
"It went. We got a bunch of people coming in to get the promo candy, but about the same amount of business. How about you?" I see the tightness of her lips as she asks the question.
"We were slow, too. Probably just because it's Monday." I'm not sure why I'm still standing here, like I'm waiting for her approval to move or something. "Okay, well, I'm going to head out. See you tomorrow?"
Maggie gives me a quick nod and says, "I'm hoping tomorrow is the taste test over at King's bakery or find an item."
I chuckle as I think about the dozens of pictures I scrolled through earlier. She must’ve done the same. "I should probably warn you that I'm the worst at finding things. Even if it's right under my nose."
Maggie shakes her head and says, "I'm sure you were a pain in your mother's side."
"Every day. It was like a life mission."
"You're the worst," Maggie says with a slight smile. "It sounds like your mother should be given sainthood status for having to raise you."
“Is that teasing I hear from Miss Maggie Dean?” I ask, grinning.
"Believe it or not, I did come with that capability installed at birth. I'm just good at hiding it sometimes."
"Touché. Okay, I'm out. See you tomorrow."
Once I'm outside the door, I turn to look back, wondering why I feel a pull to Maggie. I still think it's because I want people to like me, but it feels like more than that.
I walk over to my scooter, grateful for the vehicle that costs very little and still gets me all the places I need to be. Do I look ridiculous riding it? Probably, but I’ve never really cared about my appearance when things are practical. A dollar saved equals a flight to somewhere new.
Frowning, I'm not sure why I'm suddenly so worried about dating. That hasn't been something on my mind for quite a while. Probably because I haven't settled down enough to bring a woman into the crazy that is my life.
There are a lot of things that need to happen when we become adults, and while some make things look easy, like King in his new relationship with Georgie, I don't have things buttoned down like that. I mean, six weeks ago I was waiting tables at the main restaurant in town. Before that, I was the delivery driver and substitute front desk guy for some of the local hotels.
How long will I be setting up timeshare appointments? That's a great question, one I don't know the answer to. Hopefully it’s a long-term investment of time.
I think back to Maggie's face in the beach picture. She's conventionally attractive. I'm not sure she'd go for a guy who hasn't had his life planned out since birth. From how organized and on top of things she is, we'd be the exact opposite.
Not that I need to plan on dating Maggie Dean in the future. But what if she came to know me without the threat of the timeshare background? Would she look at me differently?
Do I want that? The small voice in my head says yes.
I walk into my apartment, which is one of the random buildings my parents own. It’s right next door to the family house too. I have to pay rent, but it’s nice to not have my parents constantly treating me like I’m a child still when I'm twenty-seven.
There's a note on the fridge in my mother's handwriting, telling me to come over to the house for dinner.
Blowing out a breath, I open the fridge. There isn't a whole lot in here. I had to put some money upfront to secure the lease for the building, and then Grandpa chipped in the rest. I just need to make it until payday so I can go get a big load of groceries.
I debate grabbing a package of crackers out of the cabinet and munching on those, but my stomach is growling, meaning I probably won't make it until the morning without real sustenance.
Should I feel bad that I go home regularly for meals? My mom has never adjusted to the fact that I no longer live at home. My sister lives on the west coast and my twin brothers are still in high school, meaning my mom still thinks she needs to cook for an army.
I know how to work hard and how to do stuff, I just get bored. That's not a recipe for a winning future in anyone's eyes.
But I'm trying. Trying to stay focused and engaged with something that's fun.
To be honest, if Maggie and Hope hadn't started The Candy Jar, it would've been fun to do something like that. Any ideas like that would've been met with disapproval from my parents that I needed to grow up and get a real job. Not that they’re loving what I’m doing now, but it seems more grownup and official.
I walk into my parents' home through the back door. The kitchen is clean and all the dishes are done, but when I open the microwave, I find a plate piled high.
"Thanks for dinner, Mom," I call out. She comes bustling into the kitchen.
"You're welcome, dear. Sit down. How did your day go?"
That's an interesting place to start. "It was good. I worked on a couple of tasks for that scavenger hunt the mayor is putting on. And then I went to work and sent a few couples over to the presentation tomorrow morning."
"You're doing the hunt? How do you have time for that, Duke?" she asks.
"The store doesn't open until later, so I have time to get it done before that."
"Did you get paired up with Coop? That boy can be such a ball of energy, but he's a good egg."
I have to do everything I can to keep back a laugh. My mom has always been of the opinion that we shouldn't ever speak badly of someone. So when she figures out that she's said something even slightly negative, she'll amend it with something more positive. Usually eggs.
Shaking my head, I take off the aluminum foil from the plate. Barbecue chicken, a baked potato and some vegetables.
"This smells amazing. Thanks for saving me some." I take my time, cutting into pieces of chicken.
"Well? Who's your partner?" she asks.
"Her name is Maggie Dean. She and Hope opened The Candy Jar next door to my building."
My mother's eyes light up like a Christmas tree at the news of a woman in my life. Little does she know how much Maggie detests me.
“Hope’s cousin, right? Didn’t you used to have a crush on her?”
I stop my fork before my mouth, not sure what to do. It’s like my inner computer has decided to crash.
“What?” I say, waiting for an answer.
“You used to play pranks on each other and I thought I saw a note to her at one point in your room.” My mom tries to look innocent, but she’s the ultimate snoop. At least she doesn’t spread the news to the rest of the town.
Shaking my head, I say, “I’m not sure I remember any of that.”
"It was a long time ago. She owns the store with Hope? That’s incredible. She’s the kind of woman you need to cozy up to, Duke." She winks at me and I try to keep from rolling my eyes as I focus on the food in front of me.
"I'll get there, Mom." This is an old argument we've had for what feels like decades.
"I'm just saying that it would be nice to be a grandmother sometime soon."
I shove a forkful of veggies in my mouth just to give me some time to think.
"Lizzy Jackson was talking to us in the hardware store today. She just moved back and will be tailoring dresses at the shop. The two of you always got along well."
I give her a forced smile and keep chewing. Maybe I should've just survived on crackers instead of the interrogation about my dating life.
"I know you don't feel ready for all that, but I know you can do it. Your dad and I got married at nineteen and you came along soon after. Life is hard. It's nice to have someone to go through it with you."
Another head nod is all I can manage. I'm not sure what's going on or why everything in my life is suddenly relationships and dating, but it needs to stop. Take the day off.
"I'll get there, Mom. It's a different world out there right now. And I don't think there are a ton of women who would want to date a guy who can't make up his mind on a career and what he really wants."
Is it possible to have a mid-life crisis in your twenties? Maybe call it a quarter-life crisis?
"You'll get there, Duke. You'll always have The Bridal Barn to fall back on."
That's the last thing I want to do. Maybe it's because that was the thing that kept us from going anywhere and celebrating so many things that I can't even think of spending my life inside those walls.
I stand up, taking my plate over to the sink. I wash off the crumbs and load it into the dishwasher. "Thanks for dinner, Mom. I'm going to head to bed early." I lean over and kiss her on the cheek, giving her a small smile before I walk out the door.
Once I'm outside, my smile falls and my mood changes. As I go over the conversation, my frustration continues to grow.
I hate it when she brings up the fact that they got married young and I was born a year later, as though I should have a seven-year-old right now.
Then the flopping from an old crush on Maggie, and a letter I definitely never wrote, to talking about Lizzy Jackson? Was that supposed to be some sort of mind tactic?
What I think is happening though, is that I'm terrified to bring a woman into my realm, to have her see the uncertainty that it is to live with a man who can't make up his mind on how to earn money. How could I do that to my future children?
What's worse than the same day in and day out like my father had is the anxiety of paying bills when I don't have the money.
I walk into the apartment, knowing I need to get out of this cycle, but not sure how to do it. Instead, I turn on some mind-numbing show and watch it until I fall asleep.
There's only so much I can take before I start to break.