Page 20 of Dove
Simon and his friends walk away grinning and laughing, and I have to smile as I watch them. Now that he's given me their names, I remember them as actual kids. Simon, Miller, and Jon all grew up in town with Gabe, and are a little older than Cameron and Sammy. Looks like most of them have stuck in town, and I have to admit that that makes me happy.
They're a lot easier to impress than their parents.
Their parents are my age, and they remember who I was when I was young.
They saw who I became as I got older, and how I managed my affairs in my twenties.
Needless to say, their parents aren't laughing at my jokes or thanking me for my service when I run into them. So feeling like the kids are on my side, even a little bit...
It makes things look a little better.
And these days, that's starting to seem like all I can ask for.
I watch them walk toward their motorcycles, then go speeding out of the parking lot, and for a moment I think that any good sheriff would go after them and give them all tickets for driving too fast.
Instead, I turn and walk toward the bar.
After all, I have no interest in being a good sheriff, and everyone here knows it. This isn't the life I chose. It's not the life I want.
I just wish I knew what Ididwant.
At least then I'd have something to live for.
The tavern itself is just like I remember. One whole side is the bar, complete with shelves of alcohol behind it, and the other walls are taken up with a stage and booths. The place is dim inthe low lighting, but I can see well enough to see how grubby it is in here. The leather of the booths is cracked, the dance floor is dirty, and the carpet under my feet is somehow sticky.
The place screams "I've been here for one hundred years and only been cleaned twice," and I'm not sure whether to cringe or laugh. It's just so Wood. The town is hundreds of years old, built originally by my great-grandfather, and most of the buildings were built at least fifty years ago. Everything centers on one main street, with smaller streets extending out like the arms of a starfish, and though we have most of the basic amenities–hardware store, post office, market, and even a bookstore–there's only one of each, and the families in town have been the same for as long as I can remember.
My father used to say that the townspeople were all family, and on my happier days, I believed that.
It's been a long time since I've been happy in this town, though, and I'm momentarily surprised that I haven't made my way back to Penny Royal's already. Sure, I'm in town as the local cop now, and have a reputation to uphold, but sitting at a bar and drinking my troubles away?
That sounds right up my alley.
I'm about to go do just that when I notice two bodies huddled together at the corner of the bar, the two backs bent over the wood counter like they're trying to become part of it, and pause.
Because I recognize that curly black hair, and the moment I do, I also recognize the taller, broader form next to her.
What the fuck are Sammy and Cameron doing in the local bar at 11 in the morning?
I stalk toward them, building up my temper with every step. I shouldn't be surprised, not really. Since I got home, I've realized that Sammy is even more trouble than she was the last time I was in Wood. At that point she was sixteen and still a school girl. Her antics had been harmless and almost charming.
These days, she's a wild child and the town's resident hooligan. She drives too fast and talks too loud, chews gum like her life depends on it, and has a strange need for adrenaline that puts even my own ADHD to shame. If you catch her unaware, you get a softer, quieter version of her, but she doesn't let the world see that version often.
She's a contradiction of ideas, and most of them are bad.
And though Cameron is a straight shooter, from what I can tell, he's so set on supporting Sammy that he goes along with everything she does. And Gunner's kid and his friends fucking support her, too.
She's like the town's spoiled pet. The one that gets away with everything because it's so cute you can't get mad at it.
And in her case, I'm sure a lot of it is also that her mother died when she and Cam were only fourteen. Killed herself in the middle of the day, from what I've heard, and left the kids to come home and find her.
The woman was my wife at one time, and I liked her quite a bit–though that never stopped me from coming to town for one or two nights and then leaving again when I got bored.
It's occurred to me that she might have stuck around longer if I did.
And I've worked hard not to think about that, because the idea is so uncomfortable I don't know if I can carry it. One more way I failed someone I loved.
One more disappointment on the list that makes up my life.
