Page 51 of Run
“I know.” Fonz pulls his stool out to sit. “But I swear your muscles grow overnight. What did they do to you in the Army?”
I’m so glad that when I got back to town and reached out to Fonz, it was like I never left.
We both cross our arms and hunch over the bar top. The bartender, wearing a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up and exposing heavily tattooed forearms, glances our away and holds up two fingers, silently asking if we want our usuals. I nod in his direction. “I told you, the training whipped my ass into shape, but it also helped me learn to sort shit out in my head. So, I like to keep up my regiment. It’s good for the physique and the psyche.”
The bartender runs a rag over the bar before placing two drafts in front of us. “Thanks, Matt,” Fronz says. “Hey, could we get some wings, too?”
“Comin’ right up.”
We lift our beers and tap them together. “To old friends,” Fonz says and takes a drink. “So, how are the home renovations going?”
I rub a hand over my scruffy jaw in exasperation. Actually, it’s more than just scruff. While I maintain the buzz cut I had in the Army, I’ve grown out my beard so it covers my face. “I guess the reno could be worse, but it could also be better.”
“That well, huh?”
I take a swig of beer. “I finally caved and hired someone to do the kitchen, and they will eventually do the bathroom. I don’t know what I was thinking, trying to attempt it myself.”
“Anyone we know?” Fonz pulls his beanie off, scratches his scalp, and replaces it—his silky dark hair is long enough that some curls peek out underneath.
“It’s a newer company called Knox Mitchell Homebuilding. A coworker gave me the referral. The guy came in with a good price and I like what I’ve seen of his work, so I’m giving him a shot.”
“Nice.”
The bartender drops a pile of napkins off as he passes by.
“So, what’s new with you?” I ask my old friend. “Are you and your dad keeping busy in the off-season?”
He swallows a gulp of beer. “Yeah. Remember how I told you my dad is leasing space at a garage out by Avon?” I nod. “He’s lined up a bunch of customers already. Some farmers who need maintenance on equipment. He’s almost booked through the end of the year.”
“Awesome! You really like it? Farming and following in your dad’s footsteps and all that?”
Fonz teeters his head this way and that. “Partly, yes. I like the work—being outside, on the land, not having to deal with too many people, living simply, if that makes sense.” I nod again and take a drink. “But part of it is definitely loyalty. Dad can’t do it by himself. And I know he loves having me with him.”
The bartender approaches with our wings. “Bon appétit, gents.” He places the basket down in front of us, and Fonz and I fall quiet as we dive in.
I lick a glob of blue cheese off my thumb before I finally break the silence. “As long as you’re happy, Fonz. I mean, I know you are happy, but sometimes I think that comes from making other people happy. It’s OK to put yourself first sometimes.”
He’s nodding as he licks his fingers and discards a bone. “I know. And I’m thinking of getting my own place.”
“Really?” I pause with a wing halfway to my mouth.
“Yeah, well, I have to find something cheap.”
“Here’s an idea. Why don’t you come live with me?” Fonz frowns at me. “Listen, I have a three-bedroom house and it’s just me. I could use help with the smaller renovations that I’m doing myself, and sometimes I need someone there when the contractors come.”
Fonz thinks it over. “I couldn’t give you much each month.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want any rent money, Fonz. My schooling was paid for by the Army, and I got a nice benefit when I left, which I used as a down payment on the house. I’m making decent money now. I don’t need the rent, I need help. And honestly,” I turn and rest my arm on the back of his stool, “I could use the company.”
Fonz chuckles and wipes his mouth with a napkin. “You gettin’ lonely there, big boy?”
I grin as the bartender places new drinks in front of us. “Maybe.” I lift the glass to take a sip, then turn back and face the bar as Fonz pushes the basket of bones to the side.
“It’ll be weird not living in a full house,” he says.
“Good weird, though.”
“Goddamn right. Might be fucking peaceful for once.”
