Chapter 15
CHAPTER 15
NATE
N ate shivered as he crossed the frost-covered ground, making his way toward the barn. Early morning sunlight crested the tree line, tinging the branches gold. Since sleep never came easy, he rose early, often before sunrise. This morning, he’d asked Frank if he could tour the roasting process, to which Frank grunted, “Be my guest,” and went back to his cup of coffee and rumpled newspaper.
Apparently, some guy named Vick Johnson did most of the roasting these days. According to Beverly, if she hadn’t insisted Frank slow down and hire help, he would’ve keeled over at the roaster years ago.
Nate hoped Vick wouldn’t mind him watching a roast or two. Although he found the process intriguing, it would also serve as a distraction from a certain brunette he couldn’t get out of his head. The anticipation of their outing to the middle school later that morning had his stomach twisted into knots. He hadn’t been able to shake the feeling of her perfect hand clasped in his, or the way his skin smelled of her peppermint lotion long afterward.
When he entered the barn, he immediately noticed the shift in temperature. Warmth enveloped him, radiating from tall glass mason jars filled with piping-hot, freshly roasted coffee beans. And the smell—wow! Nate inhaled a deep breath, the earthy aroma so rich and heady, he could taste it.
A guy who looked a few years older than him stood near a large metal contraption. With his short haircut, rigid posture, and tattoo of an eagle on his muscular forearm, Nate pegged him as former military. Marine, maybe.
The guy flipped a switch, and the monstrous machine rumbled to life. After a second or two, smoke spilled from a chimney near the top, funneling through an opening in the roof. He turned, spotted Nate, then pulled out his earplugs as he strode toward him. “Hey. You must be Nate. Frank said you’d probably be stopping by sometime. I’m Vick.”
“Nice to meet you.” Nate shook his hand. “Mind if I stick around for a bit?”
“Not at all. I just started a roast, but once it’s done, I’ll walk you through the process.”
“Cool. Thanks.”
“Frank says you’re a vet?”
“Army. You?”
“Marines.”
They exchanged a nod of solidarity. While both branches of the military shared a healthy rivalry, Nate always viewed marines as his brothers in arms, albeit brothers in a big dysfunctional family. They gave each other a hard time, but also understood one another, since they frequently shared the same FOBs—forward operating bases—and were considered the military’s “door kickers.”
“How’s it going?” Vick asked. He didn’t need to clarify. Nate knew he meant How are you adjusting to civilian life?
“Like a walk in the park. Only the park is on fire.”
“I know the feeling. It gets better.”
“Yeah. I had a wake-up call about a year ago.” To put it mildly . “I made some changes. Mind-over-matter type stuff. Focusing on the positive.” He didn’t really believe in manifesting his own destiny, but he never wanted to slip back into the hopeless abyss, which meant clinging to as much joy as possible—like Christmas.
Vick cocked his head thoughtfully. “Gratitude is good. You know what else helps?”
“Prozac?” Nate teased, then immediately regretted the quip. Prescription meds weren’t anything to joke about. He would know.
Vick smiled. “Maybe. But I was going to say people . Community. The kind of family you forge one friendship at a time. Otherwise, what happens when the voices inside your head stop being so positive? I don’t know about you, but my inner voice isn’t always the most reliable. Or honest.”
Nate understood the concept. He preached the same philosophy to other vets at the shelter. But while he was busy trying to be their support system, he’d neglected to build one of his own.
Before he could respond, a buzzer chimed. “Hold that thought,” Vick said, trotting over to the roaster. “If I leave these beans in for a second too long, Frank’ll notice. And if you think he’s cranky now, wait’ll you mess with his coffee.” Flashing a rueful grin, Vick waved him over. “Come on, I’ll show you how the magic happens.”
For the next few hours, Vick walked Nate through several roasts, explaining the process in detail and even let him handle one on his own. While they worked, Nate almost wished he didn’t have to head back to San Francisco at the end of the week.
If he were to ever build a support system, Vick would be the perfect guy to have on his team.