Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
JACK
“She began now to comprehend that he was exactly the man who, in disposition and talents, would most suit her.”
~ Jane Austen
Usually I barely had time to breathe during the lunch rush, much less listen to town gossip, but three days after Hawk Sunday had stormed out of the diner and out of my life, it seemed like everyone was talking about the one thing I couldn’t ignore if I tried.
“Who would have thought a good-looking thing like Hawkins Sunday would still be holding on to his purity like that?” Ellie Walcott said with her hand over her bosom.
The gold from her stacked bangle bracelets caught the sunlight coming through the plate glass window and sparkled around her like golden confetti. “What a sweet boy.”
Penny Chan wrinkled her nose. “I dunno. I heard from Van at the Bugle that Hawk actually slept with Trina Higgins in high school, and that’s why she was heartbroken when her parents moved the whole family to Nebraska.”
Norma Alvarez choked on her pancakes. “Hawkins and Trina? Nonsense. The boy is gay as the day is long. All the Sunday brothers have an eye for the gentlemen. My son Tonio and his sweet boyfriend have been together nearly seventeen years, which means I have a sense for these things.” She sniffed.
“I wonder if Tonio has any single friends…”
I rolled my eyes but stopped myself from commenting as I delivered their food.
Two tables down, Emma Sunday sat with a few of her friends, idly scrolling through her phone, and didn’t glance up when I approached with their hummus appetizer.
“…so I told Uncle Drew I think it’s pretty freaking cool.
He’s been up there three days so far, and I think he should make it an even forty.
You know, like that character in that book who wandered in the wilderness for forty days and forty nights. ”
Her friend blinked at her. “You mean the Bible?”
“What?” Em looked up from her phone and scowled. “No, Gracie, the John Krakauer book about Alaska.”
“Ohhh.” Gracie thought this over. “I hope Hawk doesn’t burn his cash to stay warm like that guy did. You could use it to get some new lacrosse gear. But yeah, I agree. It’s cool what he’s doing.”
Cool? That Hawk reminded her of a book where the main character died?
No. No, it definitely was not cool that Hawk had decided to park himself on Fogg Peak, all alone, to protest the development… as I’d told Webb several times with increasing frustration.
But because I’d somehow stumbled into the alternate-universe, opposite-land version of Little Pippin Hollow where my beloved, peace-loving Hawk Sunday had become an angry protestor who lived in a tent on a mountain, Webb was treating Hawk’s decision to go full-on Henry David Thoreau as a nonevent and refused to get involved.
“He’s fine, Jack,” Webb had informed me, barely glancing up from the trees he was inspecting for insects.
“He’s camping twenty minutes from home, he has plenty of batteries, and nobody knows that mountain like he does.
Weren’t you the one saying it was time to stop treating him like a kid?
” He’d given me a sidelong glance I didn’t know how to interpret.
“If you’re worried he’s starving, maybe youuuu should be the one to go check on him. Bring him a panini.”
I wasn’t only worried about Hawk’s physical survival, though. Did anyone know if he was lonely? Or angry? Or if he’d brought enough books to read? Were my calls to him going directly to voicemail due to the lack of cell reception on the ridge or due to his lack of reception of… me?
I plunked the heavy plate down in front of the teenagers with a grunt.
As I walked away, I heard Em say, “I bet Jack’s grumpy ’cause he’s shorthanded, and summer’s a busy season. I bet he’ll be hiring soon since Hawk is—oh my heck, Gracie, look at this Instagram post!”
My stomach rolled over. No, I was definitely not hiring Hawk’s replacement.
Not now, not ever. Hawk had lost his temper due to…
circumstances… but eventually, things would calm down.
Or he would calm down. And then he’d be back.
Talking to me. Teasing me. Making every part of my life feel right again.
Any minute now.
Probably.
I could not contemplate a future for me that didn’t have Hawk in it.
“Katey, table twelve looks ready for their bill,” I said, making my way into the kitchen to check on an order.
Katey turned away from a conversation with Tom, the line cook, a residual frown on her face. “Yeah, okay. But hey, is it alright with you if I duck out early tomorrow afternoon if that storm is still coming through like they’re predicting? My dog doesn’t handle big storms very well.”
“Storm?” I reached for the plates Tom had lined up for me. “Who said anything about a storm?”
Katey and Tom exchanged a look.
“Boss, that’s all most folks’ve been talking about all morning,” he informed me, which was either patently false or my ears had become antennae that only tuned in to Hawk-related programming.
“Big baddie with high winds and heavy rain. Remember that microburst that happened in Addison a few years ago? Weathermen say they’re way more common than tornadoes. Bring your pets inside.”
Katey nodded. “You should probably keep an eye on conditions and consider closing early so everyone can get home.”
As I walked back out to deliver the order to my customers, my brain entered a well-organized spiral serving up varied and detailed images of a lone camper in a tent on an exposed mountain ridge getting sucked up into a weather vortex and transported violently into the afterlife.
“It’s fine,” I assured myself as I brought MaryPat Fishbaugh her lunch order. “No one is dying over this.”
MaryPat looked up from her mushroom-and-swiss panini with a side of orzo summer salad. “Uh. Sure hope not, Jack. But everything looks real good.”
I made a vague gesture of apology and turned away.
Everything did not, in fact, look real good.
When the lunch rush died down and I finally had enough free time to pull out my phone and search the weather, I discovered the forecast was just as perilous as Katey and Tom had suggested.
There was no way Hawk could continue to live in a tent on Glassy Ridge.
Someone needed to talk him down, and since Webb wouldn’t get involved, it had to be…
Crys plunked herself down on the bench across from me at the corner booth where I was supposed to be entering supply orders into my laptop. “Hey, are you posting an ad for Hawk’s job? Because Chris who works at the Bugle might be free for a couple lunch shifts a week.”
I glanced up in confusion. “Don’t you already work here?”
She rolled her eyes. “Not me. I mean other-Chris. The Clark Kent hottie with the glasses and the questionable fashion choices? You’ve met him,” she assured me when I continued to stare at her blankly.
“When you and Hawk were sitting at the bar watching that Maine regatta thing a few weeks back, he was the one making your drinks. No bells ringing? He was eating here the other day, when Hawk quit… really? Not a single recollection?”
“I was a little distracted that day,” I reminded her.
She snorted. “Yeah. Well, once you actually notice him, you’ll see he’s distractingly gorgeous. Might be a problem.”
“For whom?”
“For you? For anyone with eyes who’s attracted to men?”
“Please,” I scoffed. “I haven’t dated anyone in months, and I didn’t notice your friend at all. I think he’d be safe from me.”
“Months? Is that so?” When she tilted her head, her pink hair flopped to one side. “Wonder why that is.”
I had no time for whatever games she was attempting to play.
“In any case, it doesn’t matter because Hawk’s coming back.
” I clicked the Enter button to submit the last order.
“Sooner rather than later since there’s a storm coming in.
In fact, you should probably hike up there today.
Make sure Hawk knows about it so he has time to evacuate.
” If my voice sounded as casual as I hoped it did, it would be a miracle.
“Please. There’s no way Hawk’s leaving. Did you know he’s staked out signs all along the main hiking trail at the top, and he’s been standing there every day educating tourists and locals about Evola’s deforestation efforts? He’s already got forty thousand followers on his new Instagram.”
“Really?” The man was pigheaded as heck about the development, but I couldn’t help the flush of pride that warmed my chest knowing my Hawk was standing up for what he believed in…
and people were taking notice. “Good. He’s bringing awareness to it, which will at least keep Evola on their toes.
They’ll have to play by the rules under that kind of public scrutiny.
” I shut my laptop with a click. “But you still need to convince him to take a break during the storm. He shouldn’t be alone up there. ”
“A little rain won’t hurt him.” Crys set her chin. “If he won’t come off the mountain so Simon can rail him into his mattress, Jack, he’s not coming down for a summer storm.”
I blinked. “His… he… what?”
“Oh, didn’t Hawk tell you?” Crys’s mouth twisted to one side.
“No, I guess he wouldn’t have had the chance, would he?
Yeah, Simon asked him out. And you should see the flirty texts Simon’s been sending!
So many erotic emojis.” She fake-gagged.
“Hawk’s all adorable and flustered about it, of course, but the man is primed for devirgination, and I think they could be really good together.
They’re both passionate about environmental stuff.
As dudes go, they’re both smoking hot. Can’t you just picture them together?
Plus, Hawk’s in his reach-out-and-take-what-you-want era.
He doesn’t have time for people who make excuses.
Simon’s been very, very clear that Hawk is what he wants. ”