“No chew today?” she asks, obviously proud of herself for remembering what I usually get every afternoon.
“Nah, I quit.” I don’t go into the explanation that I really don’t chew it anyway, that it’s some kind of habit that I’ve had since I was a teenager—buying the can, sticking it in my pocket, then giving it to some poor bastard that asks if he can borrow some.
“You coaching again?” she asks, not missing a beat. “We need you. The newspapers from Indianapolis say we have a chance at a state title this year.”
I shrug, ignoring the little bud of pride that unfolds in my stomach. “They’re a good group of boys,” I concede. “They can do big things this year. Reynolds will have them ready.”
“I guess. We’ll miss you on the court.” She hands me my receipt. “Don’t be a stranger, Ty.”
I take my change and ignore her invitation that didn’t have to be spoken. Swiping my candy off the counter, I walk out. The sun is bright, despite the ominous clouds rolling in from the west. Squinting, I take a sip of my drink and make my way to my truck. I look up when I hear the distinct roar of Cord’s diesel.
He bursts through the parking lot of Sullivan’s and slides his truck in beside mine, the tires squealing as they lock in place. Flicking off the ignition, he grins. “Hey.”
“Hey.” I stop at the bed to give Yogi a scratch behind his ears. “What are you doin’?”
“Not much. Was taking Yogi out to Busseron Creek before this storm hits, maybe do a little fishing. I thought I’d swing in and see if you wanna go?”
I shrug. “Nah, thanks for the offer though.”
“You got something better to do?”
“Not really.” I look at my friend and laugh. “Wanna tell me what you said to Pettis last night?”
He smirks, trying to stifle a laugh. “I just properly advised him of his rights.”
“His rights?”
“Yeah, his rights.” He pulls off his hat and roughs his hand through his hair. “His rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. I explained those were his Constitutional rights. However, those don’t apply to dead men and if he is seen anywhere near Elin Whitt again, I’m afraid his rights would be terminated.”
My laugh triggers glances from the patrons pumping gas a few feet away. “That’s gold.”
“That’s fact,” he grins. “Now, what are you up to? I haven’t seen you at home all day. Was kind of hoping you were with Elin.”
I kick a rock and watch it roll across the pavement. I don’t know what I expected to feel like today; I guess I didn’t give it much thought. I just reacted last night when I saw Elin with Pettis, and now I’m paying the price.
She’s all I think about every day, but it’s been worse since I slipped out of our house this morning. This time, when I left, I looked back. This morning, I hesitated, nearly walked back inside a handful of times before I forced myself in the truck and down the driveway. Even then, my eyes were on the rearview mirror.
Cord tilts his head, a smirk dragging across his lips. “Wanna tell me what happened when you took your wifey home?”
“Nope.”
“I figured as much. Even if you had managed to try to say something to her, she would’ve been too out of it to remember.”
“Come to think of it, that was the perfect time to talk to her about everything. Shit.”
“Missed opportunity,” he grins. “Things will work out. I feel it in my bones.”
“Nobody wants to hear about your bones, McCurry.”
He hops out of his truck and stands next to me. Pulling his Arrows hat down as the wind gust rips through the parking lot, he winces. “Damn, that’s cold.”
“They were talking about it in there,” I say, flinching as the cold goes right through me. “Said it’s gonna be a helluva storm coming through here in a bit.”
“Guess that means no fishin’. Better grab what I need and get home.”
“Got someone waiting on you?” I ask, even though I know the answer. Cord doesn’t get close to people. He’s friendly with Jiggs and I and our wives, but that’s the closest he’s ever gotten with anyone. He’s dated here and there, but never anything meaningful. The few girls he’s brought around us over the past few years he intentionally keeps some barrier between them. You can almost see it.
He’s cool about it. All the girls he dates, if you call it that, remain his friends afterwards. Everyone loves Cord McCurry. Cord just doesn’t necessarily love them back by design.
“Nah,” he grins as Yogi licks his face. “This is my girl. My one and only.”
“That’s sad, Cord,” I laugh.
“Sad but true,” he says, locking his truck. “I’m not built like you. I don’t have some part of me that women can relate to.”
“Bullshit.”