About Us (all of us #2)

E I G H T E E N

G I O

The Present.

"Hey, man," I grin at Trenton as he takes a seat at the bar, slapping hands with him across the counter.

I wipe down the surface in front of him out of habit before tossing the rag over my shoulder. It's dead tonight so Henry lets me out of the back to help run the front while he takes his breaks.

Tuesday evenings usually are our slowest time of the week. We get a few randoms, a handful of regulars, and the occasional bum or two, but they're cool. They don't bother anyone so we don't bother them.

"Sup, G." He looks around the place, seeming a bit awkward in this setting. He's like a groundhog coming out to see the sun.

Maybe the whole dad-slash-husband thing was responsible for that. He still looked like the same old Trent—except with tattoos and facial hair, and somehow even taller than before—but he wasn't. He was better.

I wanted to be better. I wanted to be changed. Both my best friends had families of their own, and I'm still just me. A twenty-two year old with nothing to show for his life.

I've talked to my mom about this on my worst days. The ones where it wasn't just a fleeting thought, but a big, prominent, concrete entity that wouldn't give up residence in my head.

When she was out in the backyard, messing with her strawberries and I found myself out there with her, she let me use her as an outlet. My sisters didn't step foot in her garden because that meant they'd have to help. They're lazy. But they're also nosey, so if I ever want to rant or vent without judgement, I do it then.

God's timing is always perfect, she'd say. Not in english, but it all held the same weight in any language.

She also told me not to compare myself to others.

That good things happen when you least expect them to.

One man's blessing is another man's curse—she knew all the sayings, and I took them all in because they were good ones and I needed the reminder.

They were true.

"What're you doing out without your ball-and-chain?"

He laughs, looking down at his hands. "She told me to go out and get some fresh air."

I grimace, my palms flat on the counter top.

"Not like that," he assures me. "Shit's been heavy with what's going on with Diesel. Aubree's stressing about him—it's like having another kid or something."

"Well, technically he is your step-son."

He lifts a hand like he agrees before turning it into a fist and resting his chin on it.

I bite my cheek. "You want a drink?"

"Yeah. Beer."

I pour him a tall mug, checking out the room as the liquid trickles into the glass. Even though slow nights are boring, I sort of preferred them. The chaotic nights gave me a break from thinking, and the quiet ones gave me a break from distracting.

Tonight's the first night I get a real opportunity to think in a while. I'd been dreading thinking because I already knew what would be the first thing to settle in my mind when I did.

Joselyn.

She had taken up every quiet moment of mine the past few weeks.

I set the mug down in front of Trenton, he touches the cool glass but doesn't drink.