Not Looking (latitudes #1)

Chapter 1 - Randy

~May~

“Russy!” I called, then whistled.

I waited a few seconds, then smiled as my dog bounded out from some underbrush, doggy grin on his face as he ran toward me.

I leaned down and scratched the shaggy brown fur behind his ears as he stopped beside me. “Good boy. Want to go to the mill?”

He barked once and bolted to my old two-toned brown and cream truck, tail wagging as he waited for me to catch up.

I laughed as I opened the door, the hinges squeaking slightly. Russy jumped up and had himself settled on the passenger side of the bench seat before I’d finished climbing up after him.

“Belt,” I commanded, and he sat still so I could clip his harness to the belt adapter. “Good boy.”

It took three tries for the starter on my truck to get the job done, but eventually the motor roared to life.

Russy’s tail thumped against the seat as I guided the old beater down my narrow driveway; his head swiveled when we reached the road, and I had to check for traffic. Then we were on the paved road.

Sable Lake spread out on my right, forest and cabins on the left. Across the lake, Heartspring Resort had its inflatable playground on the water for the summer.

I made a mental note to stop by on the way back home and ask if they needed any new pieces or wanted me to rotate out some older stock.

Traffic was busy on the highway that connected the city of Mount Sable to the lake and Mountain Springs beyond that—if one was taking the scenic route rather than the interstate. Finally, I spotted a break and eased into the line of cars headed toward Mount Sable.

The weather was nice, so I grabbed the handle to crank down the window. Soon, the wind whipped through my full brown beard, and the whoosh sound followed every car going in the opposite direction. I turned up the radio and went through my mental to-do list.

First, I needed to stop by the mill and see which wood cuts interested me.

After that, I’d swing by the feed store to get some essentials for my chickens.

I had a grocery pickup scheduled for early that afternoon, which left plenty of time after to visit the resort before the daytime staff headed home.

I sang along to the familiar songs on the oldies station, and soon pulled off on the small road outside Mount Sable that led to the mill.

Russy barked as we passed the feed store on the left.

“Yeah, yeah,” I laughed. “We’re going there too. After the mill.”

He huffed, but his tail thumping on the seat told me he was still happy.

I pulled off into the mill’s gravel driveway and parked near the loading area.

Russy had just jumped down, and I was closing the door when one of the salesmen, Oscar, strode over.

“Randy!” he called, then gave me a side-hug. “How the hell ya been? Haven’t seen you in a while.”

I snorted. “That’s your fault for not getting out of the office more. I’ve been here.”

He knelt and scratched behind Russy’s ears. “How ya doin’, Spud?”

Russy let out a happy bark, which made Oscar laugh. He stood again and turned to me. “Looking for anything in particular?”

I shrugged. “Figured I’d browse the scraps first—see if there’s anything I like for pens or kitchen pieces. Then I’ll check out whatever burls you’ve got.”

He clapped my shoulder. “Sounds good, man. You know where I’ll be if you need anything.”

“Yep.”

He held the customer door for Russy and me, then strode in behind us and veered toward a customer browsing the slab cuts.

I grabbed a flatbed cart and turned to where the scraps were tossed in a bin and sold by the bucket, Russy at my heel. Soon, I was digging through small and irregular pieces—looking for neat grain patterns or tail ends of specialty woods ordered for other customers.

“Is that my Spud?” boomed a familiar voice—Jim, the sales manager.

I laughed as I turned to see Russy running toward him.

“Who’s a good boy?” he asked as Russy sat and waited for ear scratches.

“That’s right,” Jim praised, reaching down to provide the scratches. “You’re a good boy.”

Russy let out a happy noise and stood, tail wagging.

“Hey, Jim, how ya been?” I asked as I stopped a few steps away.

He grinned. “I’m good! You?”

“Doing good. Keeping busy.”

He nodded, and something blue on his gray mustache caught my eye.

“Hey Jim?”

“Yeah?”

I ran my thumb over my own mustache. “You’ve got a bit of something…”

He mirrored my motion, then laughed as he inspected whatever came off on his thumb. “Frosting,” he explained, then sucked his thumb clean.

“Got a cake in the break room?” I teased.

“Of course!” He grinned. “It’s my retirement party.”

I blinked. “Wait… retirement?”

He cocked his head to the side. “You didn’t know?”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

“Friday’s my last day,” he stated. “And my Miles, he can’t wait. He started planning a vacation as soon as I mentioned it. We’re leaving for two weeks—maybe longer—on Monday. He rented a motor home, and we’re going to take a road tour of a few states.”

“Is the vacation for you,” I asked, then winked, “or him?”

Jim burst into laughter. “A bit of both. It’s the first vacation that we’ve taken without the kids or grandkids since before we mated, and we decided to cross off some bucket list places.”

“Well, have fun then.”

He grinned. “We will.” A pause. “And what about you? Any alpha catch your eye?”

“Naw. At this point, I’m a confirmed bachelor. It’s just me and Russy.”

“You’re not that old.”

“I’m thirty-seven,” I shot back. “Not many alphas out there looking for an independent omega with only a few childbearing years left.”

“You know what they say,” he replied. “Love will find you when you’re not looking.”

I snorted. “If that were true, I’d have a man and a couple rugrats. I stopped looking over a decade ago.”

He shrugged. “Their loss.”

I smiled. “Maybe, but I’m happy enough. I’ve got the shop, my cabin in the woods near the lake, Russy, and family.”

I dropped my voice. “And knotting dildos for my heats.”

He burst into laughter. “That is one thing Miles doesn’t miss. His heats were so hard on him.”

“At least he had you,” I replied.

“And I was more than happy to help,” he chuckled.

“So are they hiring a new sales manager?” I asked, changing the subject.

He shook his head. “Everybody’s going up a rung on the ladder. Though the biggest change you’ll see is a new face in the yard and store rather than Oscar.”

“Is that why I haven’t seen as much of him?”

He nodded. “He’s been training on how to handle the small accounts.”

“Good for him. Hope he does well.”

“He’s picking it up easily enough.”

A beep sounded from a walkie-talkie on his belt.

“Oops, that’s me,” he laughed. Then he reached out and squeezed my shoulder. “It was good to see you before I left.”

“Same.”

He knelt and scratched behind Russy’s ears. “You too, Spud.”

Russy’s tail thumped against my leg as he enjoyed the attention.

He stood. “Well… maybe I’ll see you around.”

“Enjoy your vacation, and your retirement.”

“I will.” He grinned, then disappeared back into the employee-only area.

I looked down at Russy, who still wore a doggy smile after the interaction. Would he eventually realize that this was the last time he was going to see Jim? Sure, there was a small possibility I could run into him at the store or somewhere around Mount Sable, but the chances were small.

I reached down and scratched between his ears. “Come on, buddy.”

I returned to the scraps and found several pieces that I could use.

Then I meandered over to the live-edge cuts and picked out a handful that would work well for charcuterie boards or trivets.

While they weren’t my favorite things to make, they sold well—especially when paired with matching utensils.

Finally, I made my way over to the burls.

I ignored the ones that had already been rounded into bowl blanks, knowing I could use scraps for smaller or resin pieces if I bought the whole thing.

Unfortunately, not many caught my eye. There was one with some interesting bug holes, which could look neat when combined with resin. Another had a pretty spalting pattern.

I was halfway to the register when I heard footsteps jogging up behind me. I turned to see Oscar bearing a large chunk of wood.

“I’m glad I caught you,” he said when he stopped beside me. “The guys cut this off a few minutes ago. I snagged it before they could turn it into boards. Interested in a crotch?”

I grinned and accepted the proffered chunk of wood. I turned it over and studied how the branches had diverged. It was still covered in bark, but I could imagine the grain pattern.

“Good call,” I finally replied. “I think this would make a gorgeous vase… or maybe a set of nested bowls.”

He grinned. “Great. Boards would have sold, but it’s on the smaller side, and I was hoping I’d catch you.”

“I appreciate it.”

He laughed. “Just doin’ my job.”

I found a spot for the crotch wood on my cart—careful to keep the wet piece away from the already dried cuts—and headed to the register. A few minutes later, Russy was supervising from the cab of the truck while I loaded my haul into the bed.

The feed store was next, and Russy got the same attention from the employees as I grabbed a bag of chicken feed and some mealworms. Then we drove into the outskirts of Mount Sable to pick up groceries from the nearest store.

Thank goodness for online ordering and pickup. I didn’t have to decide whether to make multiple trips or leave Russy at home. He could go into the places he was welcome, and neither of us had to leave the truck at the stops where only service dogs were allowed.

“Wanna go see Dale?” I asked as I headed back toward Sable Lake.

Russy whined from his spot on the seat and let out a happy bark.

I laughed. “I thought you’d say that.”

The lake glittered on my right as I passed the turnoff for my cabin and continued to Heartspring Resort. As I got closer, I could make out people playing on the inflatables and walking the trails that led to the springs.