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“How much stuff do you have, man?”
I grabbed the last box from the front porch and closed the door. “You think this is a lot?”
Macon flopped down on the sofa and kicked his feet up on the coffee table. “We’ve been bringing boxes and furniture in for the last hour.”
“I think you mean I have been bringing in boxes for the last hour.” I set the box on the kitchen table and leaned back to stretch my back. “Ten minutes after you got here, you got a phone call and paced in the front yard for twenty minutes while you talked.”
“I’m a doctor, bro. The hospital called.”
“Sure.” I had heard bits and pieces of Macon’s phone call, and he wasn’t talking to anyone from the hospital. I was pretty sure he was working on his fantasy football league. “You pick the Packers or the Bears?”
Macon opened his mouth to answer but caught himself. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“I hope you picked the Packers, brother.” I wandered into the kitchen and grabbed two beers. “And you’re free to go, or you can stay for a beer if you want.”
“Beer me,” Macon called. “I’m not on call.”
I popped the tops and walked back to the living room. I handed him a beer but didn’t let it go. “Then why the hell was the hospital calling you?”
His jaw dropped, and he tipped his head to the side. “I’m just really committed to my job, and they know I will help even when I’m not on call.”
I let go of the beer and sat down next to him. “It’s been almost ten years, and you’re still full of shit, Macon.”
Macon shrugged. “It’s nice when some things don’t change.”
“I think it would be okay if you changed for the better would be good.”
“Come on,” he laughed. “We can’t all be Wilder Presley.”
“Do people actually want that?” I asked.
“You got no idea, man. The girls loved you, the mamas loved you, and even the damn teachers loved you.” Macon shook his head and took a sip of his beer. “Captain of the football team, and you had straight fucking As.”
“That was years ago, Macon, and it wasn’t as good as you’re saying.” Sure, high school had been a fun time where most everyone liked me, but that didn’t mean it was straight-up easy. “I worked my ass off for those As, I was nice to all my teachers, I respected all the mamas, and you can’t be mad at me for the face god gave me.” I shrugged and kicked my feet up on the coffee table. “He just knew what he was doing when he made me.”
“My god,” Macon drawled, “You were being modest, and then you just blew it out of the water.”
I flipped him off. “I was being sarcastic, asshole.” I splayed out my arm. “As you can see, I don’t exactly have women beating down my door these days.”
“Give it,” Macon laughed. “Once my ex-wife looks at you, you’ll have to go into hiding.”
I sneered and shook my head. “I’ll pass, bro.”
“I want you to pass, too, but I also want someone to take her off my hands, so I don’t have to make alimony payments anymore.”
I whistled low. “I will most certainly pass now. I’m not looking to be divorced and paying alimony before I turn thirty.”
“You sure do know how to make a friend feel good, Wilder.”
I chuckled and shook my head. “You know I’m just saying what you already know.”
Macon sighed and leaned his head back. “You got any food?”
“You haul any in or see me bring in any?” I drawled.
Macon shook his head.
“Then the answer is no; I don’t have any food.” I might have a few packets of taco sauce and ketchup in my truck, but that was about it.
“You been to the diner yet?”
“Yesterday.”
“You meet Leanne?”
My lips flattened. “The waitress?”
Macon nodded. “Yeah. Did she wait on you?”
“She did, but she’s not really my type.”
“What, a waitress?”
I could have cared less that she was a waitress. I just knew that she wasn’t someone I could be interested in. I leveled my glare at Macon. “You really think I care what a chick does for a living?
Macon shrugged. “I don’t know. Things might have changed with you in ten years. You ran off to the city to make a life and fortune, and now you’re back. Did you do both?”
“Do both?” I asked.
“Did you make a life and fortune?” he clarified.
I leaned back and pursed my lips. “I made a life for myself there, and I definitely came back with way more than I had left with.”
“Then why are you back?”
That was the question I knew everyone was going to ask me.
Why did I decide to come back to Adams from the large, bustling Chicago?
I didn’t like it anymore. After more than nine years, I felt like the city was taking more from me than I was it. I had made my way in Chicago, and it was time to come home.
“It felt like it was time.”
“Wilder,” Macon drawled. “Time for what? To be isolated from the world and drive more than thirty minutes to get some decent takeout?”
“Chicken Biscuit go out of business?” That was one of the top places I missed in Chicago.
Macon shook his head. “Nah, it’s still open. Charlie is poised to take it over from his dad one of these days.”
“The chicken empire will be handed off to Charlie, huh?” I shook my head and took a sip of my beer. “Time really did march on.”
“Like you didn’t drive around town and check things out.”
“I didn’t. I dropped the U-Haul at the curb yesterday, ran to the diner for breakfast, and then I passed out at mom and dads.”
Macon set his beer on the table and jumped up. “Then I think we should drive around, and you can see how stuck in time Adams is.”
“You serious?” I asked.
Macon nodded. “Let’s go, bro. You can take a trip down memory lane, and maybe we can grab some chicken for dinner.
I had dreams about the biscuits from Chicken Biscuit. Macon didn’t have to say anything more. “Deal.”
*
