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Even though I had no intention of backing down from his advance, my mother reaches out a hand to his arm, stopping him with barely any effort. All posturing and no follow through, now that he knows he would lose.

“Now, now, Warren, don’t upset your father like that. We just wanted to say hello.”

Typical mom, take his side and blame me. Fuck these people and their twisted idea of a family.

“Me? Be upsetting? Never,” I mock. Mom scowls and Isaac sneers. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a bottle of wine to find to drink with my friends before I leave this fucked up town forever.”

I turn my back on them but don’t leave. I do still need to find that white wine for Bambi and I was here first. I don’t even know why they’re in the wine isle. My father only drinks beer and hard liquor.

After a moment of tense silence, I hear their feet stomp off behind me. If I ever needed a reminder of why I was leaving I just got it.

I manage to find the bottle I’m looking for, pay for it and leave. Thankfully my parents are gone by the time I walk out to my truck.

Tonight, will be me and Bambi, tomorrow will be my last day here with my real friends and then I’m gone. There’s too much history and hate in this place overshadowing any good that may come. My friends made it better but sometimes that’s just not enough.

Chapter 9: Raelyn

I keep it oiled

“Ooh,Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, good choice.” I set the book on the counter along with the three other books Mr. Nelson picked out. “Will you be renting or purchasing?”

All the books he chose are from our used section so he can do either.

“I would like to buyTwenty Thousand Leaguesand rent the others please.”

“Of course.”

I ring him up and give him a date to return the rental books by, reminding him they must be in the same, or close to the same, condition when he returns them, or he will have to purchase them. The books go in his canvas tote and he sets off, wrapping his thick scarf around his wind beaten neck and grey beard, before stepping out the front door.

The doorbell chimes and I smile and wave as he exits, a cold gust of wind making its way inside through the temporary opening. The cold only reminds me Warren will be leaving soon. Really soon. Like one day from now, soon. I don’t let the inevitable heartbreak dampen my smile. My customers don’t need to know I’m pining over him. If I didn’t smile, they would ask why, and then I’d have to lie and I’m not the best liar.

“I’m done with the stocking,” Lauren calls out as she approaches the register.

It’s made from a section of the original bank teller counter, with an ornately carved window frame, where there would once have been bars or glass, but have since been removed. Only the wood frame remains now, allowing for more personable check outs.

Lauren leans on the counter, her dark red hair spilling in long curls over her shoulders. There’s a lot of redheads and gingers in Alaska. Not sure why, but there are. Many tourists ask if we’re related because of it. Unfortunately, the only family I have left is Gigi, and her red hair has long since turned white. But it feels like Lauren could be family. She’s worked here since high school, nearly as long as I have. I don’t have to ask her to do things or scold her for not doing her job, she just knows what needs to be done and does it. She really is the best employee. I hope she never leaves. Thankfully she’s said there’s as much chance of her leaving as me, so I think it’s safe to say she’s sticking around. Lauren also works as a bartender on the weekends to make more money. Especially in the slow season.

We may be a fishing town, but that doesn’t mean we don’t get our fair share of tourists. Summer months are busy, and winter is slow. Stockpiling nuts like a squirrel is habit.

“Great, I’ll close out the register. You can head home. Mr. Nelson was our last customer.”

“Great.”

Lauren walks to the door and flips the open sign to closed, locks the door and pulls the shade down on the window.

“See you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight,” I call to her bouncing red curls as she heads to the back office to grab her things and leave out the back door.

There’s a small parking area behind the store where she parks her car. There’s also a small one car garage where I keepmine parked. If I were to leave it outside the thing would rust into pieces before I drove the dang thing. Pretty sure I’ve spent more money maintaining my bicycle than my car. Probably not a good idea but the bike gets more use.

I follow in Lauren’s path, turning off lights and carrying the cash register tray to put in the safe for tomorrow. Like many things in my life the register is an antique, used mainly for aesthetics. We still enter everything into the tablet kept behind the counter, which we also use for credit card payments. The register is only used for the minimal cash transactions_and its satisfyingca-chingsound_so it’s more of a guilty pleasure than anything. Plus, it matches the counter.

It's not long into my nightly routine of locking up and checking the store before I hear a knock on the back door. My heart races and my mouth goes instantly dry knowing who’s on the other side of that knock.

Warren stands outside grinning and holding up a bottle of my favorite white wine, when I open the door.

“Hey there. Thought I’d bring something special for tonight.”