JAMIESON
Now that we’ve settled the lawyers, switched to the new firm, situated the roles for each of us, and thankfully, mine is only temporary until Wyatt is well, things are getting back to normal in the lives of myself and my remaining family.
Tomorrow we’re laying our mother to rest. Tonight is her cremation. I don’t mean disrespect, but after Petra, mother gave zero attention to me. I was shunned. They no longer trusted me to take care of anything. Bet it would burn her ass to know it was me that saved us from the evil lawyers they left to care for Crown Industries and us. I’m not bitter, I’m just not sure what other feelings to have toward her.
Moving out to live with my Aunt Janie, mother never visited. I was basically ignored, and anytime I came home, I felt like a stranger. I wanted her love, like I had before the accident. Lifting my shirt, looking at that tiny scar, it reminds me of all the things that I lost when Petra died. It wasn’t just her, there was my family, the care I felt from them, and a part of me died. The conversations we had, the times we did the things we knew we shouldn’t, and that we were particularly pleased we got away with, it was always together. After? I learned how to be alone.
I guess that’s why I’m so good at snowboarding; it’s a single sport. I don’t rely on anyone. I don’t have to do anything that I don’t want to do. It’s me and the snow.
Fuck, I miss it.
I’m experiencing the reverse winter blues. I miss the winter, the cold, and the sharp, biting winds. If it weren’t for the air conditioning cranked in my hotel room, the hospital, and the car, I’d have melted like a fucking snowman in June. Speaking of, here I am, back in the cold car, driving to Powder Kings to check on the final inspection from the building department. If all is good, I’ll have the costs of those destroyed boards and merchandise reimbursed by insurance. With Doll at the helm, Wyatt on the mend, and Carli gone, I can’t wait to get back to what truly makes me, me.
Everything in the hotel, hospital, and even the freckles on my cock remind me of her. For a guy that normally has sex multiple times a week, my hand is definitely strengthening. Carli messed me. I can’t look at another girl without thinking of what’s missing. The long hair, the sass, the fire, the shoes, even. Carli is one of a kind and...I let her go. I didn’t stop her, or go with her. I could have, but I didn’t.
It’s not like I don’t have the coin to join, what with Powder Kings my board company, sponsors, my own money—that I’ve amassed, thanks to Aunt Janie—and to all the Crown worth that I’ve inherited, I’ve got enough that I should’ve just gone. But I didn’t. I won’t desert them. Wyatt and China deserve more from me.
And Carli?
She’s a tick I can’t shake. Not very romantic, but Carli is something that I can’t get out of my system. Try as I might, my cock rises to the occasion unbidden almost hourly. Shaking off the thoughts of her, the feel of her and her voice, I pull up and park at Powder Kings. There’s a steady influx of customers coming and going, and it makes me wonder why. It’s never this fucking busy.
Locking up and strutting through the crowds, I hear my name a few times. Smiling, I acknowledge a few as I pass. Stepping through the doors, I see the desk kid I met before, and Gruber. The two are selling the damaged boards and merchandise with a massive sign behind their head that says, ‘Cold as Ice Fire Sale.’
“Hey!” I yell over the din.
Seeing me, grinning wide, Gruber shouts back, “Hang on, Whiskey.” Watching him hand over the merchandise to someone, he skooches out from behind the counter.
“You see this? Pretty amazing, huh?”
“What the fuck is going on?” I ask him, just as a group of teenage girls giggle loudly, attempting to garner my attention. Ignoring them is increasingly hard, as they try to take pictures beside me, like I’m Shaq or something. I move away from them, further into the store, away from the cash desk.
“The insurance called two days ago, said that the cash was already deposited. I asked what we should be doing with the stuff. You know, boxing it up to send away or something, and he said to sell it, toss it, it didn’t matter. So, I made up the sign with the store next door and did a bunch of quick fire sale promos on Instagram, Snapchat, and Facebook. This?” He waves his hands around the crowd. “Is all because of that. Pretty awesome, if I do say so myself.”
He’s pleased as punch, and I can’t see any reason not to love it. “Fuckin’ smart, Gruber. How’re the sales going?”
“Actually, that’s the best part. Most of the damaged goods were gone yesterday. All these people are buying new equipment. I’ve already gone to deposit close to fifteen grand, and it’s only two o’clock.”
Holy shit! “You’re fucking with me?”
He laughs. “Nah, not a lie. This is all just fucking gravy.”
Now I’m smiling. “Wow. Nice marketing, man. Keep up the good work.” As I’m saying this, my phone vibrates. “Hang on,” I tell Gru, grabbing my phone out. It’s not a number I know so I answer. “Yeah, go ahead.”
“Mr. Crown? Mr. Jamieson Crown?”
That’s never a good sign. “Yeah, this is he. Who is this?”
“This is Mr. Johns from Weber Crematorium. We’ve had a…well, I’m not quite sure how to tell you this?”
“Spit it out. It’s not like she can get up and walk away. What’s wrong?”
Huffing into the phone, he sounds stressed. “Mr. Crown, we’ve had an accident here.”
“What kind of accident could you have at a crematorium, Mr. Johns?” I’m thinking he’s mixed her ashes with someone’s dog, or that they burned her wrong.
“Well, sir, she was the last into the system. And, um, the crematorium is now...on fire.”
“Isn’t that the whole point of a place that burns things? A fire?”
“Yes, sir. That would be true, but normally, we don’t set the building on fire and burn the remaining clients at the same time.”
Fuck me! My mother couldn’t just go, could she? Had to take a building with her.
Now, I’m the one huffing.
“I guess Marca Crown just had to have one last hurrah. Nothing like a party to send you off, Mother, right?”