Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
I go out to the shop and work on Morgan’s stools. Between my job and spending so much time with Tripp and Meadow, I’m just now finishing them up, which is maybe partly a lie. I’d finished a couple, but they weren’t good enough, so I’d started over. But now I’m almost done…again, and I really want to give them to him so he doesn’t think I forgot. Once the last one is ready, I wrap them so they don’t get damaged, and then…then I’m kind of stumped.
I could call Morgan to come get them, or I could bring them to him myself…but because I’m me, what I do instead is unwrap them and look at them again. What if they’re not as good as the first set? What if I missed some imperfection? Morgan asked me to make these for him, so they have to be perfect.
If Tripp wasn’t busy, I would have him come over and look at them, but I can’t interrupt his time with his family for something like this.
I pull out my cell phone and scroll through my contacts. It’s sad how few people I actually talk to.
When I get to Dusty, I hesitate. Even though we’d become closer after Morgan left, I hadn’t opened up to him much, but I did talk to him more than anyone else. We had a good conversation when he stopped by last time, so we could do it again, right?
“You’re different.” That’s what Meadow said to me, and I’m trying to be. I want to be. I need to be.
I call Dusty, who answers immediately. “Hey! What’s going on? Is everything okay?”
I can’t blame him for assuming something’s wrong. It’s not like I call him—or anyone, really—enough.
“Yeah. Fine. Good, actually. I was wondering if you could stop by when you get a chance? If you’re busy, no problem. It’s not a big deal.” Jesus. I sound like a fucking idiot.
“Of course. I’m free right now. I’ll head your way.”
That’s so Dusty. He’s the kind of guy who would do anything for anyone, no questions asked. He reminds me of Tripp that way. Archer too. Somehow, the three of us got lucky to have some great people in our lives. “Thanks, Dust. I’m in the shop out back.”
“You’re going to let me come in?”
Which I’m now remembering is a big deal. No one has been in here except Tripp. “Yes,” I reply.
He seems to hesitate for a moment, then says, “See you in a few minutes, Rhett.”
I end the call, then do one of the things I do best—freak out, pace, and get sick to my stomach. Time goes by much faster than it should, and before I know it, there’s a loud knock on the shop door. I hurry over to it because I know Dusty must be cold outside. I tug it open, and a big, burly Dusty is there, bundled up in his winter gear. I motion for him to come in, then close the door behind him.
“Shit. It’s freezing out there. Feels good in here, and damn…this is amazing, Rhett. I can’t believe you’ve been building all these things.”
The familiar discomfort I get about things that really matter is there, but this time, it’s overshadowed by the pride I feel in my work.
“Thanks.” I run a nervous hand through my hair while he takes his coat off. “That’s why I wanted you to come over. I finished Morgan’s stools. I know it’s ridiculous, but I wanted you to look at them before I give them to him. I know how much he likes the other ones, and I want to make sure these are just as good.”
Dusty turns around slowly, looks at me with a studying expression—the one that says I’ve done something surprising.
“What? It’s not a big deal.”
“It is a big deal,” he replies. “That’s…nice of you. That it matters so much. Morgan will love them no matter what.”
“Does that mean they aren’t as good?”
He smiles. “I haven’t even looked at them yet.”
“Well, do it,” I snap, then frown. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s obvious it matters to you.” Dusty walks over to where I’d unwrapped the stools. He runs his hand over the back of one of them, looking at it, taking his time examining it. He gives each one a slow inspection, and while I wish he would hurry, I’m also thankful he’s taking it seriously. “They’re incredible, Rhett. Just like the others.”
It’s wild, the sense of pride that fills me. He could just be saying that, but it doesn’t feel like it, and I am proud of them myself. I was before I called him over, I just didn’t want to let Morgan down again. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“Anytime. Can I look around?”
I nod, and Dusty does, looking at the random pieces in my shop, studying them the same way he did the stools.