On The Rocks

“If you go back to finish your degree, that implies you’d do it to start teaching. If that’s the case, you’d give up the business anyway.”


It used to be that the thought of letting Ward Construction close up caused acid to bubble up in my stomach. It was such an unpleasant, painful feeling that it prompted me to immediately drop out of school and rush home to continue my dad’s work. But thinking about it now… it makes me sad thinking about giving it up, but it doesn’t hurt like it used to. I wonder what in the hell that means.

“I’ve had a job offer,” I say, sort of changing the subject but not really, because it’s related.

Hunter’s eyebrows shoot up in interest. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah… a buddy of Dad’s has repetitively offered me work with his construction company in Raleigh. He does mostly residential stuff, but it would be good income.”

“Are you thinking about taking it?”

“No. Not really… I mean, that was my backup plan if I couldn’t make Ward Construction work. But with remodeling Last Call, and potentially getting the Coursier’s contract, I’m hoping that’s moot right now.”

“Why was that your backup plan? Why not just go back to school?”

“It was part one of the backup plan,” I tell him with a smile. “Go to work and save money. Then part two was to take saved money and finish degree.”

“Gotcha,” he says as he slides his hand up my ribs. The feeling is nice, calming. He caresses around to my back, and then presses his palm down to pull me in closer to his body. I slide in easily to his embrace, tucking my face into the crook of his neck, and then his arms wrap around me.

Hunter rubs my back softly with his entire palm, soothing me further, causing my eyes to get heavy with sleep. I think to myself, I don’t ever want to give this up.

“Let me tell you something about the Gabby Ward I know,” Hunter says softly, causing my eyes to open back up and my ears to perk with interest. “The Gabby Ward I know can do any of those things she just laid out to me, and she can do them to perfection. You have options, baby, and none of them are bad choices. Follow your heart.”

I smile and press my lips against the skin of his collarbone before closing my eyes again.

“Thanks, Hunter,” I whisper, just before I fall asleep.





Peace.

That is what I’m feeling at this very moment.

It’s an experience of complete relaxation of the body, and utter contentment of the mind.

I have it because I’m on my couch, lying on my side, with Gabby tucked in front of me. We’re watching a movie—Talladega Nights—which she thinks is absolutely hilarious, and I think is pretty fucking stupid. But when I asked her to spend a quiet night at home with me on Friday night, I assured her of two things. First, we would have the house to ourselves because John and Sasha were traveling down to Wilmington to check out the surf scene there, and second, that she could pick whatever movie she wanted.

I remember from the time we were kids, we never really shared the same taste in movies. At first, when she was younger, it’s because she was interested in stupid, girlie movies. As she got older, and we would often watch movies together at my house—Gabby, Casey, Brody, Wyatt, and me—she wanted more slapstick comedy, and I tended to want guns and bombs blowing shit up.

It appears, as we are in early adulthood, we’ve sort of settled into those genres and, since I promised her she could pick, we’re watching Talladega Nights and not Mission Impossible: 4.