Free Heartwood by L.G. Pace III

about what had happened.
    “Dude. That’s messed up. You’re coming home with me tonight,” he’d insisted.
    “N...no...” I stammered. I’d never been so grateful and embarrassed in my life.
    “Don’t fucking argue with me, Joe,” he’d demanded. The truth is, I didn’t want to argue. As tough as I thought I was, I’d never been on my own and it had been utterly terrifying.
    Molly’s family welcomed me with open arms when I’d been a lost, scared eighteen year old. Neither Betty nor Chet pressed me for details, they just welcomed me in and told Molly to set an extra plate at the table.
    I wasn’t there long. The twins were ready to move out. Mac and Mason already had jobs lined up on a construction crew. Unlike me, the Hildebrandt twins had known with certainty what they wanted to do for a living since junior high. Mac said he’d talk to their boss about getting me on the crew. The two of them even had a place lined up to rent, after jonesing for a party pad our entire senior year. A friend of their dads was willing to rent them a house. It was a ramshackled shanty, but he gave them a great deal as long as they fixed some things up for him and didn’t cause trouble. It just so happened they had an extra room for me.
    “Joe. You okay, baby? Too much sun?” Molly’s voice pulled me out of my memories and back to the situation at hand. I realized she was watching me pensively. She knew when it came to my mom and dad I could get a little unpredictable. I took a moment and tried to manage my own expectations. While I understood it was customary for parents to show support like turning up for the event I’d organized, I figured mom was just here to hold the babies, and my father was here to get his face in the paper. I had no issue with their motivations, but I was in the middle of something and didn’t have time for the awkward meet and greet.
    “I’ll talk to them after. What was the deal with Stacy and Sanchez?” I asked, ready to hop off the topic of my odd relationship with my parents.
    “Oh.” Molly swallowed a drink of her water hurriedly. “Well...Sanchez was offered the head chef position in New Orleans.”
    I made a sweep at the wood with the instrument. “Again?”
    She frowned. “Yes. Only this time Stacy’s pushing him to take it.”
    “What?” I stopped and sat my tool on the table, taking off my gloves and my protective eye gear. Her tone of voice told me there was a possibility that it could happen.
    “They’re ready for the next step, Joe. Sanch doesn’t want to move away, but Stacy’s ready to start a family and Emmanuel’s offering him a huge salary. I made them a counter offer, but I just think Sanchez needs something more. He’s in the same place I am with Wrapgasmic. He’s mastered it and it runs itself. He’s ready for a change. Stacy too.” Molly’s conflicted eyes drifted to the side as if she were imagining life without her original team. “They’ve been fighting about it for about a month.”
    “Babe, why didn’t you tell me?” I took a step closer to her, bumping my legs against the table that stood between us.
    “No sense in us both worrying about it.” She pursed her lips and drew them to the side, crossing her arms over her chest.
    “Actually, yes there is.” I reached across the table and brushed her hair out of her eyes. “I’m about to be your husband. I’m supposed to ease your burdens. I can’t do that if you won’t share them with me.”
    “I know.” She leaned forward and brushed her lips over mine. “I just figured we’d cross that bridge when we got to it.”
    “Hey! Break it up, Short shit!” Mac barked from the judges’ platform. “Quit distracting Joe. He’s only got two and a half hours left and he’s trying to represent.”
     

     
    Just as they announced ten minutes left on the clock, I put my tool down and removed my gloves. I walked around the table critically, looking for any imbalance or imperfections. I’d