Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 64419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
I continued to go to work on my scheduled days, filing paperwork and answering phones. I didn’t hear anything about the returning soldier until Thursday night when I visited Porter and Gina’s.
Both Porter and Gina were fair cooks, although they both worked crazy schedules and didn’t have much time for fancy meals. Gina worked at a hospital in Nashville and commuted from their home in Greenwood. It was about a fifteen-minute drive from the lumberyard, two towns over and halfway between Singer’s Ridge and Nashville. It was a cute little ranch house with a nice backyard for Seth, their one-year-old son.
Porter had already built a playground, even though it would be at least two years before the baby was big enough to use it. There was a slide and a little fort with a window that looked out at the main house. I could just imagine playing on it as a kid. Little Seth was in for a treat.
On Thursdays, when I came for dinner, the menu leaned toward spaghetti or canned soup. It was nothing fancy, but it wasn’t the food that was a draw. I enjoyed spending time with Porter and Gina and watching Seth grow.
There was no alcohol at Porter’s house, so we sipped iced tea and talked about work. I hesitated to bring it up, but I was dying to know. “Have you heard if Linc is going to take the job?”
Porter sighed, standing up to put the dishes in the sink. “No, I haven’t heard.”
“Have you seen him?” I asked.
Porter shook his head. “Not yet. You would think that after all this time, he would come by to say hello.”
“Give him time,” Gina said, mopping up the baby’s face.
Porter leaned against the counter. Whatever was going on in their household, they were obviously experiencing some tension. I felt sorry that I had brought it up, and yet, I had been so curious. I said goodnight a half hour later, driving home on a busy highway. It seemed like I knew just as much about Lincoln as they did.
It was sad. All I remembered of him was a rebellious boy in the back of the class, strong and silent. If he was as much a ghost at home as he was in school, then no wonder Gina hadn’t heard from him.
I had almost given up on him. If he hadn’t accepted the job offer and hadn’t spoken to his family, it seemed likely that he would continue his outcast ways. I didn’t need to worry about whether he would remember me. I didn’t need to rehearse what I was going to say. It wasn’t any of my business what he did with himself, who he talked to, or where he went. I should just leave it alone and focus on my job. I was doing just that on Friday afternoon when the door opened and Lincoln walked in.
5
LINCOLN
Iwasn’t going to do it. There had to be another way. Somewhere in this backward little town, there had to be a store or a business that was looking to hire a veteran. I made calls to all the stores on Main Street that I thought sounded promising. They weren’t hiring at the hardware store, and they didn’t need anyone at the laundromat. The diner was looking for a line cook, but I didn’t have any experience. Plus, I couldn’t be on my feet all day.
I fell back on my original plan, going to the library. The woman at the front desk might have been someone I had seen in church a long time ago, but I couldn’t be sure. She recognized me right away.
“Lincoln Matthews?” she asked, her voice carrying in the empty room.
“Yes, ma’am,” I answered, limping up to the desk.
She watched me come with a mixture of concern and curiosity, smiling all the way.
“I’m looking for a job,” I told her.
“Here?” She struggled to maintain the friendly face. Hiring someone with such a colorful past obviously wasn’t her first choice.
“No.” I shook my head, smiling at her relief. “I just thought you might have some job boards I could look at.”
“Of course. Follow me.” She led the way to a computer terminal.
She showed me some of the state job boards and the local town web page. There wasn’t much. They were looking for people for the trash pickup, but I wasn’t sure I could do that. Riding around hauling garbage was likely to be too taxing on my injured leg.
After an hour of searching, I thanked the librarian and left.
Where were all the employers who were supposed to give preferential treatment to veterans? Where were all the townspeople lined up to welcome me home? Once again, life proved to be less ideal than advertised.
I sat down at the counter at the diner and ordered a sandwich. People were staring, but I didn’t care. Nobody was brave enough to come talk to me, and even the waitress was nervous as she slid my meal across the counter. I thanked her with a tight nod, not even sparing a smile. It was just the kind of homecoming I had expected.