SID ENJOYED WALKING home from the bar. It was nine, it was a brisk spring night and she’d put in a full, long day. She rarely stayed until closing; one of the other waitresses and Rob could manage behind the bar with the dwindling clientele. She left the weekends to the men and more energetic women. She typically worked Monday through Thursday but was willing to fill in here and there when needed. And, of course, her brother being the owner, she had good benefits.
The bar had saved her life. Well, Rob had saved her. And now she was schlepping drinks and meals and everyone was her friend. From introverted mathematician to gregarious barkeep. She didn’t know she could be this happy.
The new guy, Dakota, was a cocky one. He knew he was good-looking; she’d seen his type before and stayed far away from them. He downplayed it even though he had women crawling all over him. What was he doing? Playing hard to get? Letting the women make fools of themselves while he enjoyed the attention? If she could trust any man she might take the time to understand him. But she would only get to know as much of Dakota as could be learned with a nice big bar separating them.
She trusted one man only—her brother. Rob was the strongest, most genuine man she knew. When she was about to die of a broken heart, he came for her.
It had been a dark, desolate time. Without warning, her husband left her for another woman. They’d been together seven years; she’d put him through medical school and supported him through his residency, and when he was done, he left her. He’d been with the other woman for two years, he’d said. She had never suspected.
That wasn’t how it was supposed to be. They’d had plans. After residency he’d study for his boards, and right after passing the boards, they were going to have a baby. They hoped to have three. She thought they were in love, but while he was intimate with Sid, he was making promises to another woman. She knew they didn’t have sex very often, but wasn’t that how marriage and familiarity worked out? They talked about their future family. Was she remembering right? Was it just Sid who’d talked about their future? With her brain constantly riddled with equations, she often missed things happening right in front of her. Friends called her the absentminded professor. When David left, he had no lingering med school debt—no debt of any kind. That course of events had happened often enough that it was considered an old story—one spouse supports the other through a tough program like med school, then they divorce. It was such a cliché.
But Sid hadn’t had a clue. She should have known he didn’t love her. She should have felt it. But she herself was overworked, putting in long, long hours at the lab, drowning in data to be analyzed and sorted. She’d only been married seven years and was already grateful when David just left her alone so she could either work or rest.
She was in shock for a few months. Paralyzed with disbelief. Rob was her only family and he was struggling to raise two beautiful boys alone. They were getting by; she was so proud of them. As far as she knew, Rob didn’t date at all. But Rob had the boys. Sid had no one.
She didn’t tell anyone at work, but then her work friends weren’t social friends. They’d go out for a late-night drink sometimes after putting in a particularly grueling week; sometimes they’d have a meeting over breakfast or lunch. There was no girlfriend to call and cry to. It was different for a bunch of brainiacs. They were mostly introverts. Sid was one of the few who had a slightly social side to her personality but she could be content focusing on her work, living inside her head. Her husband had been so busy with residency she hadn’t expected much of a social life, anyway. Once he left her, she realized they rarely went out with friends, and when they did, they were usually doctors or hospital staff.
She moved through her days in a fog, going to work, writing papers, delivering lectures on quantum computing, managing a specially trained staff on UCLA’s DNA computing analysis. It seemed they were always close to a breakthrough—no time to relax, no time to play around—a quantum computer that sorted and analyzed DNA in a split second and made chromosome projections could change the world, eliminate birth defects, cure diseases. They worked off several huge government grants and contributions from foundations and patrons. They worked on tight deadline after tight deadline.
She was pretty far up the chain, on the top rung of a notable research team with only two PhDs above her. People brought their problems to her. She could hardly go to Dr. Faraday and have a breakdown and get personal advice. He was grooming his work for a Nobel Prize.
She had been very well compensated, of course. She made enough money to pay for their medium-size LA home, David’s medical school, five years of residency, her own advanced education, living expenses and, in seven years, two vacations.
She didn’t talk about her marriage, or rather her divorce. Throw a bunch of computer programmers and analysts in a room and they don’t tend to talk about their feelings.
One of the interns, a woman, noticed Sid was losing weight and seemed tired. Dr. Faraday asked her if she was getting sick. “Because we can’t afford to have you get sick.” She told him she was having some personal issues with her marriage, but she wasn’t specific and he dropped it like a hot potato.
Sidney began to suspect David had never loved her, had never been faithful, and she was too busy and too inexperienced in things like romance and relationships to see the signs. She remembered his opening line to her. “I saw an article about you in the LA Times—young physicist making waves in quantum computing.” He probably thought cha-ching. Meal ticket.
David began the divorce proceedings immediately. After all she’d done to support him he wanted half of everything they had accrued—half the savings, half the house, half of her pension! He was going to take everything she had and she’d be forced to start over. She should have found her own attorney at once but Sidney couldn’t move. She couldn’t function. She couldn’t get out of bed. Her students and coworkers emailed but she didn’t open the computer. They called her but she didn’t answer the phone. She didn’t answer the door. It was her elderly neighbor who had watched the house once when she visited Rob who’d unearthed his phone number and called him.
“Is Sidney there with you?” she had asked.
“With me? No! I’ve left her a couple of messages and she hasn’t returned my calls, but Sidney gets like that sometimes. If she gets really busy at the university, she just doesn’t pay attention.”
“Ever since David left her—”
“What?” Rob had shouted into the phone.
“You didn’t know? She didn’t want to talk about it but I’m so worried now. She’s been getting so thin, looking so wounded. I haven’t seen her in days and she won’t answer the door. I’m afraid she’s done something to herself. Her husband hasn’t been around. And she didn’t say she was going away.”
“Good God, call the police! Break down the door. Please make sure she’s in there, that she’s all right. I’ll be on the next plane.”
By the time Rob arrived Sid had been taken to the hospital by ambulance. An IV replaced fluids so she wasn’t dehydrated any longer, and she’d been medicated. But mentally and emotionally, she was ruined. Rob sat on the edge of her bed, took her hand in his and said, “Sid, what were you trying to do?”
It took her a very long time to speak. At long last, she said, “I don’t know. I didn’t know what to do.”
She felt she had failed so monumentally she couldn’t move. It wasn’t just that her marriage didn’t work; it was that she could be so successful in her field and not even notice her marriage didn’t work.
He pulled her into his arms and they wept.
Her doctors wanted to keep her in the hospital—in the psych ward. But Rob worked with them to find a good facility in Colorado. She needed medication and therapy. Rob brought Sid into his home after a brief and healing stint in the hospital, got her set up with a therapist. He hired a lawyer to represent Sid and helped her work through her divorce. Day by day, hour by hour, she got back on her feet. It wasn’t easy; it wasn’t quick.
Sidney had never been very emotional and she certainly wasn’t a romantic. She was a scientist, a pragmatist, living in a world of equations and computations. But now she knew how dangerous a broken heart could be. And she learned how awful having no family, no real emotional bonds, could be.
She had had an emotional meltdown and what she learned was so ridiculously simple she felt even more stupid. She had not been living a balanced life. She had been completely absorbed in difficult work, had been physically tired, had no love in her life, became isolated and her defenses were down.
She collapsed.
Rob brought her into the bar, at first to lend a hand or have a meal with the boys. Eventually she worked her way into the business, getting to know the patrons, becoming friends with the other employees, getting to know the people in the town. Now it was her lifeline.
She still lived with her brother and nephews. She and Rob worked together to make sure the boys had everything they needed and the full support of parental figures. Sean and Finn were smart, athletic and funny. College was on the horizon.
“We’re going to turn into one of those odd brother and sister couples who no one understands and who live into old age together without changing anything,” Sid joked.
The town didn’t know all she’d been through. She was divorced, as were many people. They only knew a little of what Rob had been through, burying a young wife when his sons were only six and eight.
There was one thing that continued to plague her. How could her ex-husband treat her with that kind of selfish cruelty, use her as he had, abandon her the way he did and sleep at night? She tried not to think about that too much; it made her too sad. She was not known as a sad person. She was well liked and considered to be bright and funny and helpful.
There were plenty of attractive, personable men in Timberlake. She’d even been asked out. Could she ever be friends with a man again? She thought probably not.
But she took an oath. She was never going to let herself be that isolated and overworked again. She planned to surround herself with family and friends. Casual friends, not lovers.
* * *
By the time Cal got back from Denver, Dakota had signed his rental agreement, moved in his meager belongings and been hired by the county to haul trash part-time, starting in ten days. There would be a few days of training first, though how one trained in picking up garbage eluded him. He hoped they’d let him drive the big truck.
“Wow,” Cal said. “This almost sounds like you really are staying awhile.”
“Awhile,” he said, noncommittal.
“Gonna show me your place?” Cal asked.
“Certainly. Whenever you’re ready.”
“Let’s go!”
Cal jumped in the Jeep and they drove for about fifteen minutes to the little cabin in the woods. Dakota drove slowly over the bridge. “I hear this creek swells in spring. If it gets bad, I guess I’ll have to pole-vault home.”
“This is downright...cute,” Cal said.
“Be careful there,” he said. “It’s manly.”
“That, too,” Cal said.
“I just bought two canvas deck chairs. We can sit on the porch and have a beer and watch the deer and bunnies.”
They went inside and Cal admired the wood floors, the appliances, the big table, the stone fireplace. “This is not bad,” he pronounced.
“I like it,” Dakota said.
“Kind of all alone out here, isn’t it?”
“That’s the part I like best,” Dakota said. “But it turns out I have Wi-Fi. I’m not sure how good it is but if it’s terrible I’ll just spend a lot of time at your place. Or Sully’s. Or Sierra’s. Hey, when is Sierra getting married?”
Cal looked at him in surprise. “Are you concerned?”
“Nah, but I want to make sure she’s taken care of. You know?”
Cal put his hands on his hips. “No, I don’t know. You’ve hardly communicated, now you’re taking care of people?”
“To be honest, I never thought I’d be around family. I don’t hate it,” he added, smiling.
“Why didn’t that occur to you before?” Cal asked.
“Seriously?” Dakota said. “Let’s see. Not only was I in the Army, you were in Michigan! What’s the matter, was the North Pole full? Dad was in the twilight zone. Mom was pretty much there with him, and Sierra was under the influence. Are you suggesting I should have gone to live near Sedona so she could run my life?”
“You have a point,” Cal said.
“Who knew you and Sierra would settle in a cool place?”
“I never saw it coming, either,” Cal said. “I was just hiking. It was time and I was looking for the right place to scatter Lynne’s ashes...”
“And you end up at some old guy’s campground and he has a gorgeous daughter who just happens to be a neurosurgeon? How does that happen?”
“I must be living right,” Cal said. “You need anything? This stuff going to get you by?”
“I don’t need anything, Cal.”
“You don’t start your job for a while. It’s only part-time. If you need a little help, just say—”
Dakota put up his hand. “I left home seventeen years ago. I’ve gotten by without help, haven’t I?”
“I guess I always took it for granted that the Army was taking care of you,” Cal said. “We sure didn’t grow up soft, did we? But if there’s one thing we figured out early—there wasn’t much help available. Talk about training in making your own way.”
“That brings something to mind. Does everyone around here know how we grew up?”
“Everyone? I doubt everyone knows the details. The people we’re close to know. I took Maggie to the farm to meet the folks before we got married, giving her one last chance to run for her life.”
“And she didn’t run?”
“Nah,” he said. “Maggie’s tolerance and compassion far outpaces anything I’ve encountered. That’s one of the things I love about her.”
Dakota didn’t look at his brother but he could feel Cal’s eyes on him.
“You’re wasting a lot of energy still being mad at them,” Cal said.
“They weren’t exactly sterling parents,” Dakota said. “And it’s not because they were poor—there’s something honorable about being poor and holding it together. They were negligent. Jed should’ve been on medication! Marissa should have insisted.”
“Know what Maggie said about that? She said she’s had a lot of people refuse medical treatment for a variety of reasons. Sometimes they find the treatment worse than the disease, sometimes they’re afraid, sometimes they’ve made peace with their dysfunction and know how to live with it. He might not have been the best father but Jed is still a gentle soul. Crazy, but sweet. Scared of his own shadow but kind. He was always so good in his heart.”
“As he talked about his design of Apollo 13, or his Nobel nomination or some other delusion.”
“My favorite was when he was getting ready for a security briefing,” Cal said with a chuckle.
“I don’t want to laugh about it yet,” Dakota said.
“Let’s check out your new porch chairs and see if we can talk about things you find more agreeable.”
They sat and talked for a while about general things, the town, Sully’s place. Cal explained that Sully had had a heart attack a couple of years ago and ever since then those people attached to him—Maggie, Sierra, Cal, Connie—had all been checking on him regularly and pitching in with the chores around the Crossing. Dakota had fallen right into step, often showing up at the Crossing to help out.
In the late afternoon Dakota took Cal home and then headed for town. He parked way down the street and walked to the bar. He sat up at the bar and was promptly waited on by Rob. They chatted briefly while Rob served him a beer but there was no sign of Sid. Dakota nursed his beer slowly and eventually heard another customer talking to Rob. “Sid’s day off?”
“Not usually,” Rob said. “The boys had baseball tryouts and one of us had to take them so Aunt Sid offered. I told her to take the day off. She was just going to leave early, anyway.”
Then Dakota remembered: she left the weekends to the other bartender and waitresses because it got busy. That was good to know because Dakota wasn’t into crowded, noisy bars. But he would have to wait until the following Monday to see her again. He could take a chance on Sunday but he was pretty sure she had said Monday through Thursday was her usual schedule.
Through the weekend he enjoyed himself with his family and their families. Cal and Maggie hosted a big Saturday night dinner at their house because Connie wasn’t working and everyone was available. It was the end of March; the campground general store was still closing early and there were only a couple of intrepid campers. Sully liked to be in bed before nine so he left early, but the rest of them played poker until midnight.
At last it was Monday. Dakota was very calculating. He showed up at the bar between lunch and happy hour. He sat in his usual spot. The place was deserted. He waited for Sid to come through the swinging door from the kitchen. He grinned at her. And it was unmistakable...she smiled back. She slapped down a napkin in front of him. “And how can I help you today?”
“I’ll have a beer,” he said. “How’ve you been?”
“Me? Fine.” She craned her neck to look out the windows. “Are we expecting company today?”
“We are not. I parked behind the diner and walked down. I’m undercover.”
That brought a laugh out of her and she filled a glass with beer for him. “I don’t know why you’re fighting it. Alyssa is perfectly nice. And that other one is certainly beautiful and willing to buy you dinner. And, I suppose, other things...”
“I explained that,” he said. “Trouble. And Alyssa seems awfully young.”
“She’s not that young,” Sid said. “Just something to think about. How about you? How have you been?”
“Good. I thought we’d celebrate my new job.”
Her face lit up. “Congratulations! And what will you be doing?”
He lifted his beer and took a sip. “Picking up trash.”
She laughed and it was a wonderful sound. “Just as you planned.”
“It’s good money. I have to go to a training program first. Apparently there are things to learn about garbage. I hope they let me drive that big truck.”
She leaned on the bar. “That’s probably a senior position.”
“I’m experienced. I’ve driven great big MRAPs. You know—those enormous military vehicles that are resistant to mines and bullets and carry troops around the desert. I could probably parallel park a garbage truck.”
She laughed again. He could make her laugh. That was a start. “I might end up their star trash hauler.”
“After your training,” she reminded him.
“I bet I’m at the head of the class,” he said, grinning. “I doubt you have to be a Rhodes scholar to get through it.”
She seemed to snap to attention. “Why would you say that?”
“Just a joke. That was a strange reaction.”
“What exactly is a Rhodes scholar?” she asked.
“A recipient of the Rhodes Scholarship that includes a couple of years at Oxford,” he said. He judged her expression and it was his turn to laugh. “Hey, just because I’m hauling trash...”
“Huh,” she said. Then she wiped the bar. “The Army must have educated you very well.”
“In a manner of speaking. They have this nifty little thing called the GI Bill. When I was in the States, I took advantage.”
She didn’t say anything for a moment. “I guess you’re a little overqualified for the county refuse pickup.”
He raised one brow. “How about you? College?”
She grinned. “What for? I love this job,” she said. “Seriously, it might be the best job I’ve ever had. Except once when I was a babysitter for this rich couple who took the family to France and brought me along to watch the kids. That was pretty sweet.”
“When do you get off work?” he asked.
“Why?”
“Because, Sid, I’d like to buy you a drink or a cup of coffee or something. Because I’m really not interested in Alyssa or Neely with her dinner at Hank’s or Henry’s or whatever, but I think I’d like to get to know you better.”
She looked around. “Well, while it’s not crowded and I’m finishing my chores behind the bar, we’ll get to know each other. I don’t date. I especially don’t date customers.”
“We don’t have to think of it as a date—”
“I like you, Dakota, but no. The answer is no. I’m not interested in dating. Not even just a coffee date.”
“I could tell you about all the times I got in trouble in the Army. You could tell me all your babysitting stories. You could fill me in on the town and I could tell you all about their trash.”
“Seriously,” she said. “Do I have to get my big brother?”
He slammed a fist to his chest. “Oh God! Not the big brother!”
“Don’t be cute,” she said.
He chuckled. “All right,” he said. “Can I have a Juicy Lucy? With jalapeños?”
“Medium?” she asked.
“Yes, please.”
“That’s better. Now, enjoy your beer and don’t give me any trouble.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. What did you do over the weekend?” he asked. “On your days off.”
She ignored him while she keyed in his order. He could tell she was deciding whether it was a good idea to talk with him about personal things. Then she was back. “I did laundry, took the boys to the store for sporting gear, went for a hike, made their favorite Saturday night dinner, watched two movies and read a book.”
“A whole book?” he asked.
She just made a face. “What did you do?”
“We had a family dinner,” he said. “I have family here, did I mention that?”
“A brother, you said.”
“A brother, a sister, a sister-in-law and her father, a potential brother-in-law, a six-month-old niece. We ate, and after Sully went home we played poker till midnight.”
Her mouth fell open. Bingo, he thought. He was going to keep his private life from the town for now, but getting this woman’s attention had been too problematic.
“You’re related to Sully?” she asked.
“You know him?”
“Everybody knows Sully.”
“Then you probably know Cal, Maggie, Sierra and Connie. My family.”
“You didn’t tell me,” she said. “I consider them all friends. Not that we socialize or anything, but we see each other here and there. I see Sierra sometimes since we both work in town. Hmm.”
He smiled. “Now can we have coffee?”
“No,” she said.
“But you like my whole extended family!”
“Right,” she said. “And you’re a perfectly nice guy but you’re looking for a woman. Not a friend.”
“You can’t be sure of that,” he tried.
“I’m sure,” she said.
“What if I gave you my word we could be friends?” he asked.
“I’m getting Rob,” she said, turning as if to leave.
“Okay, I give up,” he said. “So, where’s a good place to hike around here?”
“You didn’t get enough of that in the Army? Sully’s place is sitting in the middle of some of the best trails. When you wear out those, head up to Boulder—awesome views.”
“Your nephews hike?”
“I need handcuffs and leg irons to get them to stick to hiking. They want to run, climb, dangle from cliffs, work out. They’re athletic and at their ages the hormones are just kicking in—lots of energy there.”
“How are they doing in school? You know, academically.”
“Fine,” she said. “As long as they’re doing well, we don’t harangue them. They’re kids. They both help out here and at home. They’re very good boys.”
“So the whole family works in the bar,” he said.
“Well, the boys can’t be in the bar—they’re minors. But there’s plenty to do around here. What about your family? I know what Sierra does. And Connie. I get firefighters and cops in here all the time.”
“We all help out at Sully’s, especially in spring. He’s getting ready for summer when his campground is full all the time. And after a long winter there’s plenty to do. Cal does a little lawyering here and there and Maggie works in Denver three to four days a week. And then there’s Elizabeth, who is brilliant. They keep trying to shame me into babysitting just to watch me squirm.”
“You don’t like kids?”
“Kids are great but I don’t do diapers. If they leave me alone with her I know something like that’s going to come up.”
“You might have children of your own someday. Then what?”
“Well, I’m not counting on that, but if it does happen, the baby’s mother will have to train me. I have no experience in that.”
“So, there are three kids in your family...”
“Four actually,” he said. “Cal’s the oldest. I have an older sister and Sierra’s the baby.”
“Older sister?”
“Wait for it,” he said. “Sedona. Two years younger than Cal, two years older than me. Cal’s name is actually California Jones.”
“That’s kind of...amazing,” she said. “Was there some significance? Something special about those places?”
“I don’t think so. I’ve never been to either North or South Dakota. We did spend some time in California. My parents were... What’s a nice word? Freethinkers. Kind of hippies, for lack of a better description. It got us two states, one city and a mountain range.”
“That’s very cool,” she said.
“I spent most of my childhood on a farm in Iowa,” he said. “The kids in rural Iowa didn’t really find it cool. They found it strange.”
“They must have no imagination in Iowa,” she said. “I think it’s lovely. Interesting and lovely.”
She was such a nice person, he thought. And she was killing those jeans. He was going to have to be very patient. She had something going on in her head.
“Let me ask you something,” he said. “Why the big aversion to any sort of dating? Even the most innocent sort?”
“Are we going to start this again?”
“I’m not looking for an argument,” he said. “But really, it’s such a firm decision. Is there some specific reason? That might help me to get it and not take it personally.”
She sighed. “Ugly divorce. Divorce scars. Now do you get it?”
He shrugged. “Well, of course. But I’ve never heard of a nice divorce. I haven’t heard of anyone singing happy tunes after one, either.”
“Lucky you. You haven’t had the experience,” she said.
“I haven’t been divorced, no. I’ve had a couple of breakups and I agree they’re very tough. I spent a lot of time thinking about how I might’ve known that was going to end badly. Eventually I just moved on.” He drank some beer. “I guess you’re not there yet.”
Rob came out of the kitchen carrying Dakota’s lunch.
“Hey, Dakota. How’s it going?”
“Excellent, Rob. How are you?”
Before he could answer, Sid interrupted. “Rob, did you know Dakota is one of those Joneses? Cal, Maggie, Sierra, and by association Sully, Connie and there may be more.”
“Sure,” Rob said. “You didn’t know that?”
“Did you know the Joneses are named after states, cities and mountains?”
“I don’t know if I realized that,” Rob said. “Enjoy your burger. That’s Sid’s favorite.” Then he turned and was gone.
Dakota took a big bite. He chewed and swallowed. “Your brother likes me,” he said.
“It’s not going to do you any good,” she replied.
* * *
Dakota fell into a very uneventful, satisfying routine. He worked three long days a week and had Sunday through Wednesday off. He started at the crack of dawn, punching in at 5:00 a.m. and out at 3:00 p.m. They told him over the summer he might be able to pick up one more day and additional benefits, but he wasn’t too worried. He had the VA and a sister-in-law who was a doctor. There was still plenty of time in that schedule for him to help Sully and he managed to have dinner at the bar and grill at least two nights a week. He saw Cal and Sierra now and then, hung out with Sully sometimes, and although Tom didn’t have all that much time to spare, they managed to have a beer at Sully’s twice.
April was bringing the first blooms and campers, and the blossoming of his new friendship with Sully. First Sierra and now Dakota found in him the sane, philosophical and comical father they hadn’t had. For Dakota it started when he told Sully, “I guess you know we grew up picking vegetables with other migrant workers, living in a bus and getting no proper education.”
“For the life of me, I can’t figure out why that worked,” Sully said, scratching his mostly bald head.
“It didn’t work,” Dakota said. “It was awful.”
“And yet look at the lot of you,” Sully said. “You all turned out good. You didn’t just survive it, you aced it. But offering a manual on child raising that suggested that kind of upbringing as a way of creating a success...” He shook his head.
“It’s well-known that some lucky bastard will always rise out of poverty and ignorance and, in spite of hard times, make something of himself...”
“I know this,” Sully said. “A kid here, a kid there, escapes a poor, uneducated family and makes good. But the Jones clan? Near as I can tell—there were four of you and all four of you not only survived, but excelled.”
“Dumb luck, I guess,” Dakota said.
“There was some nurturing there,” Sully said. “Your mother, maybe your father on his better days, each other. Somehow it happened. I couldn’t have done it.”
Dakota laughed. “No, you couldn’t. Your daughter is Maggie!”
“Oh, I don’t take any credit for Maggie,” Sully said. “Her mother and stepfather raised her. Maggie’s mother left me when she was just small, took her away. I had failed them, see. Not that Phoebe, my ex-wife, was any treasure, mind you. We’re cordial now on account of Maggie, but it’s no secret we’d sooner live on different planets. She’s a giant pain in the ass. Her husband, Walter, a gentleman to the bone, not only puts up with her, he puts up with her generously. He’s a saint.”
Dakota chuckled. He’d heard from both Maggie and Cal that this Phoebe was annoying. “And you didn’t remarry?” he asked Sully.
“Why tempt fate?” Sully said. “Proved the first time I had no judgment where women were concerned. I met her and married her in less time than it takes paint to dry. That’s a clue.”
“But don’t you sometimes get...a little...lonely?”
“Did I say I’d never crossed paths with a woman? Even this old man can tell you, sometimes just being around a woman makes certain things better. Don’t go telling Maggie I said that. She’ll try to picture it in her head and get all riled up. But I’ve been friendly with women over the years. It’s a wise man who knows his limitations, son. Remember that.”
“I will,” Dakota said. But he couldn’t help but laugh.
He vowed to remember that. But he continued to go to the bar for two or three dinners a week. When Sid saw him coming, she gave a half smile and shook her head. She realized he was relentless. He liked her. And he could tell one of the problems she was having right now was that she also liked him. Well, maybe he shouldn’t go that far. She enjoyed him. Whatever the husband had done must have been so devious she was afraid that lurking beneath the surface of every good guy was a monster. Why else was the idea of even a cup of coffee such a terrible notion?
But Dakota was patient. He spent the month of April settling into the world of trash hauling. The first couple of weeks he hung on the side of the truck and picked up scattered refuse while a man named Lawrence drove and dumped the buckets. Lawrence was forty-seven but looked much older. His hair was going white; he had a wife and six kids. When he talked about his wife, everything came with an appreciative laugh and a headshake. “Ooh-wee, Benita made some of the best taco pie this man ever had!” Or, “Damn me, that woman got her fist on those boys o’ mine and they don’t dare talk back at their mama!” In short, Lawrence had a good, normal, happy life with all the usual problems. Dakota wanted to work with Lawrence forever. But he really wanted to drive. “You get to do that soon enough, boy,” Lawrence said.
April was full of rain and flowers. Hauling trash in the rain was just the same but wetter. But as the days passed, Dakota thought Sid might be softening up toward him, just a little bit.