Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 151333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 605(@250wpm)___ 504(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 605(@250wpm)___ 504(@300wpm)
Uncle Al shakes his head at me. “You think you’re gonna be wanting to climb up on a roof with your back problems when you’re in your fifties? Sixties?”
I don’t even want to climb up on a roof now. “I can’t afford to buy that place and fix it up.”
“What about your settlement?”
I blow out a low breath and ignore Skylar’s curious stare.
“There’s not much of that left. Not enough to do everything that place would need.”
A few years ago, a local, well-known entrepreneur rear-ended me at a stop sign late at night. My truck was basically totaled and it effed-up my already messed-up neck and back. The driver staggered out of the car, clearly having had one too many. He also had a barely dressed woman in the passenger seat he didn’t seem to want anyone to find out about. In exchange for me not calling the cops or reporting it to my insurance, he bought me a new truck and gave me twenty-five thousand in cash on the spot. The dude literally pulled wads of cash right out of a bag in his trunk. In hindsight, I should’ve sued him. Twenty-five K wasn’t enough to put up with chronic back and neck pain.
Some of that cash went to new appliances for Al and Suzy, and some of it I used to buy Skylar’s ’vette.
“It’d be really cool if you turned it into an era-themed bar. Like, all sixties or seventies themed decor,” Skylar suggests, stabbing a baby carrot and nibbling half of it off her fork. “You could have that decade’s music playing in the background. People love that stuff. They like things that are unique, so they can say, hey, let’s go to that sixties bar.”
“Yes,” Aunt Suzy says excitedly. “I love that idea! She’s right, people would love to go to a bar like that for a drink.”
“It sounds great, but I don’t know shit about running a bar.”
My uncle’s not swayed. “I could still work part time and help. And what are you talkin’ about? You bartended there for years when you were younger. Hire someone to fill in when you’re off so you don’t get stuck there all day and night. It ain’t that hard.”
I’m tempted. I’d be lying if I said I wanted to run a small construction company for the rest of my life. I don’t love it, and it’s murder on my back. I can’t see myself doing it forever, and the thought of working at some big-box hardware store when I’m fifty doesn’t exactly excite me.
“It’d be cool, but there’s no way I can afford it. It’d take up too much time and money. I’d never be able to get a bar off the ground and keep up with my own work in the meantime. I’m sorry.”
“You’re right, Lucky,” Aunt Suzy says. “It’d be a lot for you to take on by yourself.”
“Maybe I could help,” Skylar suggests quietly.
I turn to my wife. “You’re not even old enough to drink. What are you gonna do in a bar?”
She puts her fork down and glares at me. “Oh, I don’t know, Jude. I guess just because I’m eighteen, I can’t do anything? Let’s just forget that I came up with a great idea to make the place interesting, and I also happen to be really good at social marketing. But, whatever. If you want to swing a hammer for the rest of your life, have at it.”
“Why would you say that to her?” my aunt asks.
“What?” I say. “You expect me to run a bar with a teenager?”
“Why does her age matter?” Suzy says. “You tell us all the time how smart and driven she is. And she’s your wife. It’d be nice to run a new business together.”
“She’s not my wife,” I shoot back. “She’ll be gone in six months.”
“Hey,” Uncle Al warns. “That’s no way to talk about a woman. Especially your wife.”
I grind my teeth. “It’s the truth. That was the deal. Why am I the bad guy? It’s what she wants.”
“Are you two really going to get a divorce?” Aunt Suzy asks.
“Yes,” we answer simultaneously.
“Is that what you both want?”
Skylar and I stare at each other, waiting for the other to answer first. I want to say no. I want more time together. But if it’s what she wants, then she should go and move on with her life.
“It’s what we agreed on,” Skylar answers. “It doesn’t mean we don’t care about each other.”
“But you make such a cute couple.”
“We can be cute friends.” Skylar puts on her best convincing smile but I can see right through it. “We’re okay with it, really. We both knew going into this it was just an arrangement. I’m very grateful for everything Lucky’s done for me, and I’m so glad I got to meet you two.”