Truth or Beard(54)

“Everything is temporary, Duane. This,” he gestured to our surroundings, “this is temporary. Even mountains fall. Nothing lasts forever. You got a chance at happiness, even for a week, a month, a year? You grab it and you hold on to it for as long as it lasts.”

“Exactly.” Beau nodded vehemently; now he was frowning, looking as serious as I’d ever seen him. “You have a chance to be with her, even for a short time? You take it. Because when she leaves, you’ll still have that.”

I shook my head, not liking the cast of their words. “You want me to settle? That’s fucking pathetic.”

“No. I want you to seize.” Cletus dropped his hand on my shoulder and gave me a little shake. “You seize that woman. You make her yours.”

I examined Cletus as he spoke. I liked the words seize and make. Those were action words I could appreciate, words that made me re-think my earlier conclusions. I glanced between my brothers and actually allowed myself to consider the possibility of taking what I could get from Jess, for as long as I could get it.

She didn’t want to stay in Green Valley, nothing could keep her here. Fine. I could accept that. It was her life. But…

I wasn’t going to beg. No fucking way. I wasn’t even willing to ask nicely at this point. I didn’t rate on her list of priorities, and why should I? If she wanted no strings with me—and it was clear she was beyond interested in an arrangement that included the physical—what was keeping me from setting my own terms and pushing her outside of her comfort zone? Defining the timetable? Taking a bit of her pride and heart and spirit before she left?

Some unrealistic and idealistic dream from my adolescence?

She was here. I was here. We were adults. Mutual want, hot and desperate, existed between us. Why was I denying myself taking what I could?

Fuck that shit.

Cletus gave my shoulder another shake, pulling me from my internal pep talk. His next sentiment echoed my thoughts, solidified them.

“You take happiness, Duane. You conquer it.”

“That’s right. Conquer it.” Beau pointed at me and swiped his hand through the air with violent emphasis.

“And, when or if the time comes for her to leave,” Cletus shrugged, “you be the one to walk away first, with no regrets, because you captured that flag. You seized the day.”

***

Half of my bad mood and unnecessary wood chopping was because of Jessica.

… Actually, more like seventy-five percent.

The rest was because of Dirty Dave and Repo’s visit, and what I’d found on the thumb drive they’d given me. But I had to wait for Cletus to wander off before I could spill the story to Beau.

Beau and Cletus helped me place the newly chopped wood into the shed. We decided to grab dinner at Genie’s bar—Cletus liked her chicken wings—as they filled me in on their trip to Nashville and Cletus rambled for an hour about how he’d helped the district law enforcement office unjam their mail sorter. And then he paid a call to all the local police stations to assist with mail sorter maintenance.

He was very proud of his work with mail sorters. He’d been doing it for years, pro bono, and had a strange affection for the machines.

“They’re like the pre-Internet Internet, connecting the world and directing traffic.”

He was a nut.

It took both Beau and I several attempts to steer the conversation back on track. Turns out the car they’d set out to claim, a 1963 Mustang, was in better shape than we’d thought. As well, the junkyard owner had another Mustang about the same age, in much worse shape that we could strip for parts.

They were able to rent a vehicle carrier and load it up with a few other prospects as well. All in all, it was a productive trip.

On the drive back from dinner, Beau pointed out that one of us was going to have to negotiate a price with Jessica for her Ford F-350. We were bringing in enough vintage body work that it also made sense to buy a large carrier as well.

“Should we talk to Drew first, do you think?” I glanced over my shoulder at Beau, who was riding in the back of Cletus’s piece-of-shit Geo Prizm.

“I don’t think we can wait that long.” Beau shook his head. “It’s the middle of November now. He’s not getting back from the trek in the Appalachians until right before Christmas.”

“When does Jethro get back again?” I asked.

“After Thanksgiving I thought,” answered Beau.

“Drew won’t care about the purchases. We have the capital and he’s been in favor of all our investments so far,” Cletus chimed in. “The man is a Ph.D. biologist and a federal game warden. I’m sure Drew has things on his mind other than our purchase of a vehicle carrier. Besides, he likes being a fully silent partner and trusts me to make important decisions.”