Page 17 of Santa of the Creek

“The mayor has plans?”

“My brother was born with a phone to his ear and a spreadsheet in front of him.”

“And you?”

“What about me?”

“You don’t have any political ambitions?”

Dean makes a noise in the back of his throat. It sounds bitter. “Heck no. My life took a different road.”

I regard him for a long while, not sure what to make of that cryptic comment. “What do you want to do, Dean?”

He gives a shrug. “If I knew that, Echo, I wouldn’t be nearly forty and still in Collier’s Creek.”

Chapter Four

Dean

Echo doesn’t know it but that’s the most honest I’ve been with anyone in years. I’ve lost count of the number of people that have asked me that question, because beside my politically ambitious brother, I’ve got to look like an anomaly. The useless brother, the one without a job, no drive, no ambition.

“Hey.”

I jump at the tap on my arm and focus on Echo. “Huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re thinking about, but it didn’t look happy. Not everyone has to be the next governor. From what I hear, you volunteer with kids and old people.”

“Among other things,” I agree.

“Then you’re making a difference in our community.” He pauses. “I guess you don’t have to work?”

I lick my lips. It’s not easy to talk about. “No, I…uh…was in an accident that wasn’t my fault. I got a payout. A generous one. I couldn’t work for a long while, then someone suggested I volunteer as a way of getting back into the world. I ended up withlots of volunteer posts. I have the time, and I like working with the folk in town.”

Echo nods as if he understands, and I’m relieved he doesn’t judge me. We sit in silence for a while but it’s not uncomfortable. I don’t normally tell people about the accident or the payout. There’s something about this man that makes me want to beg him for a belly rub.

“I guess you have a lot of drunk people baring their soul to you at the bar.”

Echo chuckles. “Oh, man, you have no idea. But I kind of like the fact they have someone to talk to. Not everyone has someone they can go home to.”

“No,” I murmur.

“Do you?” Echo asks.

“You know I don’t.”

He gives me a wry smile. “I’m sorry, I was trying to be diplomatic.”

“No need.” But I like the fact he tried. Most people know me too well to bother.

“What about you? Is there anyone in your life?” I’m sure he’s gay from the comments about my eyes, but I don’t want to presume. That’s the quickest way to get a punch in the face from a straight man. Ask me how I know.

“Not so far. I work anti-social hours. It doesn’t give me time to hook-up.”

“You should go to Gilligan’s when you get the chance,” I suggest.

“I’ve heard of it but to be honest, I spend all my time in bars. I don’t want to spend my off time in another one, especially as I don’t drink alcohol. It’s not fun watching other people get liquored up.”

I nod. That made sense.