Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
That’s not the hand life dealt us, though, and neither of them would want us to be miserable forever. They wouldn’t want us to linger in the past. They would want us to be happy.
“I’m working on it,” I say, as if they can hear the thoughts going through my head. Maybe they can. “I need to find my place here again, outside of Dusty. I haven’t done that yet, but I will. If you think of anything, let me know.”
I sit there with them for another hour or so, just telling them about my life over the past ten years. I avoid the subject of Dad. I don’t know how to cross the bridge with them, and I want my time spent talking to my mom and sister to be filled with the people who deserve it. It’s a struggle for me to admit it sometimes, but Rhett is one of those people.
After pushing to my feet, I say, “I love you both. I’ll be back soon. Next time I’ll bring Dusty.”
I turn and walk away from their graves, a lightness filling me that I haven’t experienced in a long time, maybe never. It releases tension, making me feel featherlight.
I take a different route on the drive home, just for a change of scenery. It’s not until I’m pulling back into town and see the older, wooden building on the left, that I think about the fact that this route takes me right by Davies.
Old Man Davies is outside with someone I don’t recognize, the other man pointing to something on the building. There’s no reason to turn into the parking lot, but I do anyway. They look over at me, Old Man Davies recognizing me when I get out of the car.
“Hey, Morgan. This is my realtor, Jeb. What brings you by today?” His gray hair is longer than he wore it when I was a child, reaching his shoulders. His face is full of wrinkles, his knuckles gnarled.
“Nice to meet you,” I tell the blond in a suit, before turning my attention to Davies. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I was coming back from the cemetery, saw the two of you out here, and decided to stop by. I can’t believe you’re selling.”
“It’s time. You’re welcome to come in with us.”
I nod and follow, Jeb talking to him about a few things that might make the sale hard.
“The bones are strong. She just needs to be prettied up a bit,” Jeb says, which makes both Old Man Davies and me chuckle.
“Archer and I thought that same thing about the bones.”
“What do you do?” Jeb asks.
“At the moment nothing. In California I was the CEO of a beverage company.”
“I wish you could have been CEO for me here. Maybe it would have helped me keep things running a little smoother,” Old Man Davies jokes.
“Were you having trouble?” I’m surprised. Birchbark is the kind of place where people like to spend money on local businesses. They like to have a place to come together. What better place than a bar?
“I think the older I get, the harder it is for me to wrap my head around it, is all. Things are changing at lightning speed—at least that’s how it feels to me. Shipping is getting harder, and I know I should switch companies, but the ones I work with, we’ve been working together since the beginning. I made this place thrive in the past, and there’s not a doubt in my mind that it can thrive in the future. I just know I’m not the man who can do that. I want to see her go on and be a staple in Birchbark. My hope is to find someone who wants the same thing.”
I can’t really say why, but my pulse speeds up. My eyes start looking at the space in new ways, thinking of changes that could be made to bring it a fresher look but one that lifers in Birchbark will still see as the bar they love. Goose bumps run the length of my arms when my brain goes into business mode, my experience already providing ideas on how to make the bar more current.
I think about how I randomly ended up at the cemetery today. Talking to Mom and Ella, asking them to send me ideas on what I could do here. Taking a longer route home for no reason other than different scenery. Old Man Davies being outside with his realtor.
A buzz starts beneath my skin, a foreign excitement I haven’t felt in a long time. Dusty asked once if I loved my job, and while I liked it, I couldn’t say I loved it. There had been no fire lit beneath me, fueled by the passion that pushes through my veins in this moment.
This could be a mistake, might be the dumbest idea I’ve ever had, but everything in my life is changing around now, and somehow I know this is the next step. “I want to buy the bar,” I tell Davies, who clutches his chest in surprise.