Free Riversong by Tess Thompson Page B

“You look familiar.” He came over to where she stood, putting his hands in his pockets and staring at her. “Lee Tucker?”
    She nodded. “Zac.”
    “I haven't seen you since that one party on senior skip day. That was some party! What I remember of it anyway.” He chuckled and rubbed his hand on his back pocket. “Some weird shit went down that day.”
    A trickle of sweat made its way down Lee's back. “It's been a long time.”
    “What've you been up to?”
    “I've been in Seattle.”
    “That right? You visiting?”
    “My mother died last year so I'm here to take care of some things.”
    “Bummer.” He stared at her and his eyes blazed. “You married?”
    Lee adjusted her sweater over her stomach. “No.”
    “I married Lindsey. You remember her?”
    “Sure.”
    “We got divorced after a couple of years. She turned out to be a crazy bitch.”
    “That's too bad.”
    “I'm the manager here. Temporarily. I'm just helping my dad out for a few months and then I'm moving south, to the beach.”
    “Great.”
    He moved closer. “Well, you look different. I'm impressed.”
    “Oh, thanks.” Lee clasped her hands together to control the shaking. “I should go.”
    “Stay, have a beer with me. We can talk about the old days. Man, it seems like yesterday.”
    Lee tried to sound polite. “The time does go quickly.”
    A man's voice called for Zac. He stiffened and rolled his eyes. “Great. My dad's here.”
    A man in his sixties strode through the front door. He was a rustic kind of handsome, cowboy hat, straight spine, forearm muscles bulging behind the rolled up sleeves of his dress shirt. He pulled his cowboy hat from his head and the room seemed to both shrink and fill with electricity. He gripped Lee in a handshake that bobbed her arm up and down. “Welcome back, Lee Tucker. Ray says you're looking for some work?” His voice was low and centered deep in his chest.
    Zac glared at the floor and mumbled. “We don't have any work for her here.”
    Mike pulled a chair out for Lee. “Sit. You hungry?” Mike raised his eyebrows at Zac. “Make us some lunch, bud. I could eat a horse. Not that we serve horse here, Lee. We're a bunch of hicks, but we won't feed you horse. Might taste like it, though. Can't find a decent cook to save our lives.”
    Zac, face dark, glowered at Mike and turned his gaze on Lee. “There's nothing wrong with our cook.”
    “It'd be darn hard for us to know since nobody orders any food, now wouldn't it?”
    Lee fingered the collar on her blouse and tried to sound light-hearted. “I'm not hungry anyway. My neighbor brought me a pie and I've practically eaten the whole thing.”
    Mike nodded, slapping the table. “Nothing better than pie.” He waved Zac towards the kitchen. “I don't have all day.”
    Zac left for the kitchen without commenting. Mike seemed to relax the second Zac was out of sight. He scooted his chair into the table, metal clanking on the wood floor. “I was real sorry about your mother. I didn't know her too good but your grandfather bought lumber from my father way back when.” Mike's eyes, the same blue as a hazy summer sky, scrutinized her like he was looking for something important in her face.
    “I never knew him.”
    “Broke my heart when they were killed. I was already working at the mill by then, learning how to run it from my dad and I was in awe of your grandfather. I never met a man who seemed to love life more.” He paused and Lee saw a flicker of sadness behind his eyes. “My buddies say I'm getting sentimental in my old age, but it gets to where half the people you used to know are dead. Awful good to see his granddaughter in the flesh though, all grown and beautiful.”
    “That's kind of you. Thank you.” A feeling of muted discomfort and a faint embarrassment washed over her. It was strange to learn about her grandfather from a complete stranger when she knew almost nothing from her own mother.
    Mike shifted in his chair. “Let's talk