Chapter Eighteen: Dean

 

On the way to the jewelry store, Paul makes small talk. He talks about the snow, and I talk about how I’m liking Valoid so far. Before I know it, he’s idling in front of Keller’s Jewelry.

“I hate to kick you out in the middle of a conversation,” he starts, throwing the car into park, “but I have a lot more to plow. You be alright from here?”

“Absolutely. You saved me so much time. Thanks.”

I reach for my wallet, but Paul holds up his hand.

“Save your money, son. No need.”

“You sure?”

He nods. “Absolutely.”

Thanking him again, I waste no time letting him get back to work.

The second I step foot in the jewelry store, I know I’m completely out of my element. I must’ve been on some high after waking up with Iz in my arms this morning. Now that I’m awake, I realize how dumb of an idea this is.

I’ve never been to a jewelry store. And I’ve definitely never gotten a girl jewelry before. I’m way out of my element. I should just leave. This is a terrible idea.

“Can I help you?” a middle-aged woman asks, coming to my side.

“I…I’m honestly not sure what I’m looking for.”

“Well, maybe I can help you? Is this a Valentine’s Day gift?”

I nod.

“For your girlfriend?”

“Kinda.” I have no reason, but I want to tell this woman all about my feelings for Iz. Working at a jewelry store, she’s had to have seen hundreds of couples. Maybe she can help. “We only just met. I…I think I want her to be my girlfriend. I like her. A lot. But we haven’t known each other very long, and this is all new for me.”

A smile spreads across her face as a touch of pink reaches her cheeks.

“Young love. I know just the thing.”

 

An hour later, I have the gift tucked safely in my back pocket. Naomi assures me this is perfect for Iz and will match her warm skin tone, something she learned after I shared every detail about how she looks. Even with Naomi’s assurance, I still have butterflies. This one thing could ruin everything. Or it could be just what I need. There’s no way of knowing until I give it to her, which I’m not ready to do. Not yet.

How do you even give a girl jewelry? When do I give it to her? With dinner? As soon as I get back? God, this is a mistake.

Too late to back out now, I double-check the black box is still in my back pocket before heading through town toward the cabin when an old man, hunched over and moving at a snail’s pace, comes outside with a shovel in hand. He grips the handle, leaning in to clear an area in front of his storefront. With a good conscience, I can’t let him shovel his sidewalk. He can barely hold it without the weight of the snow.

“Lemme help you with that!” I run over before he has the chance to throw out his back or break a hip.

“Oh, thank you, young man,” he says, handing the shovel to me.

The man lingers for a moment, watching as I move pile after pile of snow. I can’t tell if it’s because it’s cold or because he’s old, but I can see his body shake as he watches me work.

“Why don’t you head inside and warm up. I’ll drop off your shovel when I’m finished.”

“I think that’s a wonderful plan. It’s too cold out here for an old man like me. Nice and warm inside.”

“You’re lucky. The cabin I’m staying at has been out of power since last night.”

“Oh, you’re at Meyer’s Place?” I shrug, unsure who Meyers is. “Out on Dupas Lane?”

“That sounds familiar.”

“I didn’t think I recognized you, but with this ‘Ol brain, who knows anymore. Don’t you worry about that. I’ll give Meyers a ring and let him know. Probably just needs to head out and switch a breaker or something.”

Before I can protest his help, the old man goes back inside the diner. Knowing he won’t freeze to death out here, I get to work clearing the area. I work as fast as I can to get back to Buttercup without rushing and doing a shit job. I may be a lowlife, but if there’s one thing I hate, it’s a piss-poor job. Thankfully, the area isn’t very large and takes no time at all. Wiping my snot on the sleeve of my jacket, I head into the diner to drop off the shovel.

“Everything’s all cleared off, sir. Want me to put any salt down for you before I go?”

I have no plans to stick around, eager to get back, but the old man calls me over to the counter.

“Don’t bother,” he says, tossing his hands up. “Can I get you a coffee or hot chocolate or something to warm you up?”

I’m about to refuse, but then I think about my numb fingers. If I ever want to work as a chef again, losing my fingers to frostbite isn’t the path I should take. “That sounds great. A hot chocolate?”

“Coming right up—”

“My name’s Dean, sir. Dean Kennedy.”

“Comin’ right up, Dean.”

The bells above the door jingle and I turn to see Paul walk in.

“I thought I told you not to shovel that sidewalk of yours, Jerry. I was just coming over to do that for you,” Paul says, taking his jacket off and hanging it on the rack beside the door. “Nice to see you again, Dean.”

“Likewise.”

“I didn’t shovel a goddamn thing,” Jerry says, holding my mug of hot chocolate. “Dean here did it for me. Have you met Dean yet?”

“I have. I gave him a ride into town.” Jerry hands Paul a cup of coffee before he takes the seat next to me. “Ahh. Went with the hot chocolate, huh? Good choice. It’s the best hot chocolate in the world.”

I know it’s too hot to drink, but I’m too excited to wait. Hot chocolate is hands down my favorite winter drink, especially when it’s topped with tiny marshmallows like it is now. I take a sip, not caring about the bite on my tongue from the heat, and am immediately overwhelmed by the rich creaminess of the beverage.

“You’re not wrong. This is hands down the best hot chocolate I’ve ever had,” I say, not exaggerating in the slightest.

“Don’t bother asking what makes it so good,” Paul says to my left. “That hot chocolate has been a family secret for a hundred years.”

“Oh, no need to flatter an old man like me,” Jerry says to himself, so I just smile in response.

Now that my body’s no longer frozen, the bulge of the jewelry box digging into my ass gets annoying. I pull it out and put it on the counter, touching it every few seconds to make sure it’s still there.

“Say, Dean. What are you up to tonight?” Paul asks.

Whatever it takes to get Buttercup to fall for me.

“I don’t think I have anything planned.”

“Really? A handsome, young man like you isn’t out on a date tonight?” Jerry pipes in. “Seems like you do. Young men don’t just walk around with jewelry every day,” Jerry continues, pointing to the box in front of me.

By my guess, Jerry’s probably in his late eighties. What little hair he has left is completely white. His face sags, making his ears look slightly too big for his face. He may have the wrinkles of an older man, but the brightness in his gray eyes makes him look young and vibrant still. His aged appearance and say-anything attitude make me think of my grandfather. They share the same carefree mentality that Gramps had until the day he died. Even prostate and liver cancer couldn’t slow him down.

“Don’t mind Jerry. He can be straightforward. Older generation, I suppose.” Paul says quiet enough that only I can hear.

“That’s alright,” I say back. “It’s kinda refreshing.”

Paul smiles, then turns his body ever so slightly to include Jerry in the conversation again.

“Anyway, we’re having our annual Valentine’s Day dance at the community center tonight. It’s nothing fancy…just in the gym of the town’s old high school. But you’re welcome to join us. We’re trying to spread the word as much as possible so those visiting us know what’s going on and know they’re invited.”

“Way back when our town used to be called Valentine Bluffs,” Jerry interrupts.

“Yes, about forty-five years ago. They chanced it from Valentine Bluffs to Valoid, but we still celebrate our town’s history by throwing a Valentine’s Day dance each year. You’re welcome to join. I can give you the information.”

This could be perfect for my plan. Dancing with Buttercup on Valentine’s Day…how can you top that? And it would give me an excuse to give her the bracelet. Could tell her I thought this would be a better accessory than those flower wrist things…something like that. What better first date?

“Yeah, that sounds cool, actually. I’ll try to be there.”

Paul hands me a flyer for the dance, and I wonder if he’s the mayor or something.

Sipping my hot chocolate and trying to savor it, I listen to Jerry and Paul bicker back and forth, chiming in now and then. I’m having a great time being here with the two of them, but the longer I’m here, the more I think about Buttercup. I told her I’d be back soon, and now it’s past noon.

“Well, I guess I should head back now. I’ve got a long walk ahead of me.”

“Don’t tell me you walked all the way here from Meyer’s place,” Jerry says, bewildered.

“Paul actually picked me up on the way in.”

“And I’d be happy to take you back, too.”

Paul gets up from his seat and heads to the door, grabbing his coat on the way.

“You don’t have to do that,” I say to him. I’d hate to have him cut his time with Jerry short on my account.

“I don’t have to, but I want to. Think of it as a thank you for helping Jerry here. He lost his wife last year, and it’s been really rough on him. Having a new face to talk to helped, I’m sure.”

“You sure you don’t want to stay?”

“I’ll be back over before the dance. That’s how he and his wife met, so I’ll keep him occupied while the dance is going on.”

I’m quiet for a minute, silently thinking over my options. I easily could walk back. It’s only a couple of miles. I usually run more than that every day.

“Plus, if I drive you, you’ll get back to your girl faster.”

Your girl, I repeat. My girl.

“As long as it’s not out of your way or anything.”

Paul shakes his head. “Not a problem at all. Most of the roads are snow free now anyway, so it’ll take faster than this morning.”

We say our goodbyes to Jerry, and I’m about to follow Paul out the door when something catches the corner of my eye.

“Hey, Jerry?”

“Whatcha need, Dean?”

“Where’d you get those flowers?” I ask, pointing to the vivid red roses on the window display.

“They’re all yours.”

I smile.

“Thanks, Jerry. Iz is gonna love these.”

I hope.

A few minutes of driving later and we’re idling in front of the cabin.

“Thanks again for the ride,” I say, shaking Paul’s hand.

“Of course. If there’s anything else I can do for you while you’re in Valoid, just let me know.”

“Know anyone who’s hiring?” I ask.

I have a couple grand saved up so I could pay cash for a cheap apartment until I get work, but the sooner I find a job, the better.

Paul’s face lights up.

“Are you good with technology? We’re just about to open our own tech startup on the other side of town. I wish I could get more into detail with you, but I’m not nearly smart enough to understand what they’re doing. There’s some robotics involved and some AI, maybe? I’m happy to pass on your info to the director, though”

“Ah, not a tech guy. I’m more of a standing job kinda guy. Used to work as a kitchen assistant. I had a job lined up, but that fell through last minute on the owner’s part. That’s okay. Just figured I’d ask.”

“Kitchen? You’re a chef?”

“Have been for the past eight years. The plan was to be the executive chef at a new restaurant down south.”

“Well, that’s perfect! Jerry’s been looking for a chef. Since the two of you hit it off, I doubt he’d have any reservations. I’ll let Jerry know.”

“That would be great. Thanks, Paul.”

“No problem. See you around then?”

“You bet.”

Maybe this fresh start in Valoid is exactly what I need. New town, new girl, new job…how could things get better than this?