Tucker:

It feels really fucking good to be back “home.” It’s like the throbbing in my temples has finally quit and we can go back to being Molly and Tucker in our most natural states. I am itching to get back up on the mountain and see the guys, even though I know how Molly feels about them at this current point. I don’t blame her. She has a lot invested in them.

I guess I do, too. They saved my life and gave me a home when I had nothing. The least I can do is help them do some trail cleanup or go catch some fish.

I’m ready to get back to work, too. Word has gotten out about my little side business, and I have jobs lined up every day this week. The pay is nice, especially since it’s straight cash, and the feeling of being able to provide a decent income for the two of us, or at least contribute and spoil my girl a little bit, makes me feel proud. It makes me feel like a man, and not just some empty shell wandering around trying to figure out my place in the world.

Which is why I’m kind of irritated.

Molly keeps going on about this doctor’s appointment I have this week. She keeps hounding me about helping her do research into my past. I keep trying to explain to her that it doesn’t matter. Everything important is right in front of me. I have her, I have work, we have friends, we have a home, I don’t understand why she can’t just let it drop. Sure, I had some moments while we were away, but I’m blaming it on the car ride. I hadn’t been in a car since my accident. The closer we got to Creede, the more those little fragments of memories started to fade, and I’m really beginning to think it was just my imagination at work or maybe some sort of desperation to feel a certain way so I could fit in with the people around us there.

We drop off the rental car and walk back to Molly’s bus at the campground, rolling our luggage behind us.

“I can’t wait to see Dolly,” she says. “I bet she’s going to be so mad at me for leaving her.”

“What the fuck?” she shouts, tossing her suitcase to the ground and taking off into a sprint across the lot. The little dog is tied up out in front of the bus, a piece of rope attached to her collar. Dolly is nervously pacing back and forth on the short line, and as soon as she sees Molly her ears perk up and her tail starts wagging.

“You have no water, you have no food, and it’s hot as hell outside. Who the hell did this to you, girl?” she cries out, untying the knotted rope and scooping up the little pinscher. “CHERYL!” she screams, pulling on the locked bus door.

“Maybe she’s not here,” I suggest. I doubt it’s any consolation. I can see how pissed off she is.

“I can hear the TV,” she says. “CHERYL! Open the door!”

The door swings open and a cloud of pot smoke rolls out.

“Why is my dog tied up outside?”

“I didn’t want her to get a secondhand buzz,” Cheryl giggles. “Plus, she kept biting Moss.”

Molly looks like she’s about to flip out. I can see her whole body quivering as she stands there, hugging her dog to her chest.

“Tucker,” she says in a soft but stern voice. “Can you do something?”

Before I have the chance to say anything, Moss pokes his head around the corner, a shit-eating grin across his face.

“Hey, buddy,” he booms. “You’re home early!”

Dolly immediately starts snarling and snapping.

“No we’re not,” Molly says. “We’re actually kind of late. What the fuck are you doing in my house?”

“What’s your deal?” Cheryl asks. “I ran into him when I was out walking Dolly yesterday. I didn’t think you’d care if I had friends over. It’s not like we trashed the place.”

“Sure,” Molly says quietly. “I’m sorry, I’m being rude. Let me get you paid so you can get on your way.”

She walks up the steps and onto the bus. I hear her prying open all the windows and filling Dolly’s water dish as she mutters to herself. I know why she’s mad, but I don’t know what she wants me to do about it.

“It’s good to see you, Tucker,” Moss says to me, pulling me in for a big bear hug. “We miss you up at camp.”

“No doubt,” I say. “I’m gonna try to make it up this week sometime. I have a couple jobs lined up, but it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Look at you go,” he laughs. “Didn’t take you long to turn domesticated on us. I had high hopes for you, man. Didn’t think you were the type to be pussy-whipped.”

“Speaking of, where’s your girl?” I stab back. If he wants to bust my balls about finding a chick and settling down, then I can at least call him out in front of his side piece.

“We’re just friends,” Cheryl giggles, shooting me a wink. “And if he doesn’t care, then I don’t care.”

Molly returns with an envelope and hands it to Cheryl. She doesn’t say a word, and the tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. The girl is pissed and it’s radiating from her.

“Nice place you got here, Molly,” Moss says. “I can see why you like staying here so much Tucker. That bed’s pretty comfy, if you know what I’m saying.”

She turns and walks back in the bus and slams the door.

“God, when did she stop being fun?” Cheryl whines.

“Well, you kind of violated her space and her trust. And you know how much she cares about her dog. I’ll smooth things out. We just drove for twelve hours, so neither one of us is really in any sort of mood to deal with this shit. You guys better get out of here.”

“Why don’t you come with?” Moss suggests, fishing a joint out of his pocket. “Let the old lady throw her tantrum in privacy. You need to show her what’s up.”

“Hell no,” I tell him. “I’m not trying to get my ass kicked.”

He laughs disgustedly, like he’s looking down his nose at me. “Have it your way. I’d cut off my nuts before I let some broad walk all over me like that.”

And that’s why we are two different people. I’d never leave Molly behind when she was upset like this just to protect my ego and show her what a “man” I am.

The two leave, and I feel absolutely awful. I know how Molly feels about Moss. To see her ‘best friend’ cozied up with him probably doesn’t help.

“What can I do for you?” I ask as I join her inside. “You want help unpacking?”

“I want you to burn these fucking sheets,” she groans.

She pulls a plastic bin filled with linens out from under her bed. I see her face turn bright red and it looks like she’s about to burst into tears. She grabs the case that she keeps her gun and valuables in and throws it across the room.

“What’s wrong?” I ask her.

“My fucking gun is missing.”