Chapter 2
JOEY
The weekends are always so quiet when Savannah isn’t filling the house with her joyous laughter and knock-knock jokes.
But it’s the lot I’ve been dealt since I’m the one who divorced Danica.
At least, that’s what Danica says. The trade-off of not having Savannah for three weekends out of the month is that I get her during the week and can ensure she has a stable environment for school.
Danica isn’t evil, and I don’t hate her, but I hate that I couldn’t make it work with her for Savannah’s sake.
Still, I think it’s better that Savannah has two homes than live in one where her parents can’t stand the sight of each other because they’re just so vastly different.
Savannah is the product of a one-night stand.
Danica was attractive and sweet, meeting me toe-to-toe in the flirtation game on the hookup app.
We’d split ways at the end of the night with no plans to see each other again, twin smiles on our faces from the easy chemistry.
Eight weeks later I’d gotten the scariest text of my life.
I hadn’t asked Danica to do anything, just supported her, and somehow that had ended with us impulsively getting married and trying to make a go of it.
We realized pretty fast that chemistry in the bedroom doesn’t equate to a long-term relationship or a marriage, but she didn’t make it easy, wanting a custody arrangement that I refused.
All that to say, the weekends without Savannah around are tough.
Most of the time I work at whatever event is going on at the farm, enjoying the distraction.
Since I work most weekends, I get two weekdays free, which gives me a lot of time for Savannah.
I’m very lucky that Beau is my boss because he’d give me anything I want to keep me happy. The curse of long-term best friendship.
I’m in the middle of cleaning up the food truck after a long Sunday of work when Beau shows up at the window with one of his don’t be mad at me smiles.
I purse my lips and narrow my eyes his way before going back to cleaning, and he lets out his big ol’ chuckle that always makes it absolutely impossible to be irritated with him.
“I need a favor,” Beau says carefully, like he’s thought over each word.
I return to cleaning the counters. “Don’t look at me. I am not in any place to fulfill wishes right now.”
“Haha.” Beau taps the metal counter of the window to get my attention.
I glance up at him to find he’s very serious now, contemplative even.
“I want you to let Benji help you in the truck. Teach him how to be a chef, help get him into the local culinary school. Once the restaurant is up, maybe he’ll be good enough to help you for real. ”
“Those are a lot of favors, Beauregard,” I say seriously, because what the fuck?
Beau looks sheepish, dipping his face down to hide behind his baseball cap. “Please, Joey. It’s a favor for me and Trevor.”
“Oh, that’s evil, invoking Trevor’s name.” I have a soft spot for that kid. He loves Beau so much, it’s impossible to not try to bend the world his way, which is probably only an inch of how Beau feels. “Does Benji have any experience in a kitchen?”
Beau nods. “He can cook anything. He’s cooked for us. He listens well too. I wouldn’t be asking this of you if I didn’t think it was a good fit.”
“Fine.” I toss the dirty kitchen rag I’d been holding into the sink. “Have him show up next Tuesday for an introduction to the truck and our menu.”
Beau slaps the counter with a wide grin. “You’re the best.”
“We both know Lee is the best,” I argue easily, because that’s how it’s always been.
Beau’s smile slips a little, and I get that feeling again that I’ve been getting for months, that they’re both hiding something very serious from me.
But I’m not a chaser and I know they’ll tell me with time.
That’s the danger of joining their friendship late in the game.
Sure, we’ve all been friends for longer than they were friends without me, but sometimes I still feel a little off-footed amongst them.
They have a built-in-the-sandbox love that never dies, and I’m just teenage rebellion that convinced them to keep me.
“So, wanna go fishin’ tomorrow?”
I lean against the counter and grin. “Hell yeah. The three of us?”
Beau rubs his beard in that way he does when he’s unsure of something. “I’ll ask Lee.”
“All right, what’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Beau says quickly, with all the gusto of a lying man.
“Hmmmmm.”
Beau slaps the counter again, grins widely, and disappears back toward the front office.
I finish cleaning up the truck, then tug off my bandana and run my fingers through my sweaty, messy curls.
I need a shower so badly. I love the food truck, but I’ll be ecstatic to be cooking in a full-sized kitchen again.
I lock up and head toward the staff parking lot.
I instinctively look around for Lee’s truck but don’t see it.
It’s a crapshoot if he works on a Sunday or not.
He’s not really needed for events since he’s always handled more of the behind-the-scenes farm work.
That’s Lee. He’d rather be known behind the scenes for running the place than getting any attention.
At least I’ll see him tomorrow for a long morning of fishing on the river.
I’m awake before sunup. When we go fishing, Beau wants to be there while the fish are still sleeping so that they bite for breakfast. Dressed in faded blue jeans and an even more faded T-shirt, I stand on the front porch of my bungalow downtown waiting for Beau’s truck to rumble to the edge of my driveway.
Sure enough, only minutes later he pulls up with the low beams of his lights landing right on me.
I squint against the lights and bite back a grin at the sight of Lee in the passenger seat.
I toss my fishing rod and tackle box into the bed of the truck, then climb into the back seat. We usually take Beau’s work truck when we go fishing since it has better towing capabilities than his old Ford, and the boat isn’t exactly a light tow.
“Morning, boys.”
Lee grumbles an unintelligible version of a greeting, while Beau basically sings “good morning” back.
Lee reaches back to hand me a thermos and I take it with a grateful smile.
I run my finger over the ding on the side where I’ve dropped it so many times I don’t know how it’s still holding it together.
The thermos has a sticker on it from the national park we took a trip to in our twenties that’s somehow still hanging on as well.
“Thank you, Lee,” I say very seriously, putting as much affection in my voice as possible.
He flusters like usual but turns his head away to look out the window. “Welcome.”
Something is definitely going on with him.
I reach forward and squeeze his shoulder, and he tenses, which is unusual for him.
I made it a habit to touch him since we were teens and I learned he wasn’t ever touched with much affection.
I come from a touchy-feely family and it always felt so natural to show my love to my friends that way.
I pull away, not wanting to make him uncomfortable for whatever reason.
The ride to the river is short, and it’s quiet when we arrive.
It takes a few minutes to back the boat into the water, and I watch under the early morning darkness as Lee navigates the boat, floating it to the dock.
I leave parking the truck to Beau and head over to the dock to join Lee in the boat.
I jump down and aim a grin Lee’s way, but he just shakes his head and turns away.
He’s dressed like he usually does for fishing, in jeans and a T-shirt, with a baseball cap that’s seen way better days.
I need to buy him a new one for his birthday this year.
“What’s up, Drew?” I say sweetly, nudging his elbow with mine.
He looks toward me, and that’s when I notice it for the first time.
His nose is swollen and bruised, like he got uppercut right in the nose.
I gasp and reach out to touch his cheek, feeling some mix between fear and anger roiling up in me.
I’m going to kill whoever did this to him, even if it was one of those naughty goats.
“Drew,” I whisper angrily.
Lee jerks away and steels his jaw, which tells me everything I need to know.
It was his drunk asshole father. Whether on purpose or accident, I don’t care.
I could kill that man. I could’ve killed him at sixteen when Lee showed up at school with a bruised jaw.
I could’ve killed him when Lee admitted to sleeping outside because his father locked him out of the house.
I could’ve killed that man a million times over by now had Lee been willing.
“It’s not a big deal,” Lee says far too quickly for my taste. “Not in front of Beau. All right?”
“Fine. But you’ll tell me what happened later? Okay?”
“Fine,” Lee angrily mumbles, then pastes on a smile when Beau jumps into the boat. “Let’s catch some fish. I want Joey to fry ’em up and make some hush puppies. He’s gotta perfect Cindy’s recipe or we’ll be hurtin’ in thirty years.”
Beau rolls his eyes. “Mama says his hush puppies are a copycat to hers.”
Lee grunts as he steers the boat into the river. “Nah, they’re missing something. Probably love.”
I poke Lee hard in the back and he squirms away with a hearty chuckle.
We all stand for a bit, sipping our coffee, watching the early light of sunrise start to break over the trees.
The wind whips through my hair and I smile despite the past few moments of unease.
Birds sing in the trees, and the sound of the river comforts me like it always has.
This New Jersey boy finding himself at home in the Florida rivers, springs, and back roads has always been so funny to me. I think I was made to be here.