We are back with Rick "Breaker" Winslow from 'Break My Heart". He's trying to get his head around being in the kissing booth. Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales.
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He woke up early the next morning. Panic set in. He had three months until the carnival. Maybe he could sell his house and move? The phone rang early. It was Dani.
“Well, well, the kissing fool.”
“Oh my God is this all over town already?”
“Of course. It’s a small place, Rick.”
“I know, I know, but can’t a guy have a minute to try and wiggle out of this?”
“With my face, no one will sign up.”
“Are you kidding? Jory told me she’s already sold fifty tickets.”
“Did you buy any?”
There was a moment of silence.
“More than one?”
He laughed. “You can have those for free. Come over. Any time.”
He heard her embarrassed laugh. “This is for charity.” She hoped he wouldn’t unearth the truth.
“It would be charitable for you to stop by now.”
“Can’t blame me for trying.”
“I’ll see you Saturday.”
“You are coming to the chicken barbecue, aren’t you? It’s the annual one for the firehouse.”
“Carnivals, barbecues –all for the fire house? Can’t anyone afford to pay for anything in this town?”
“They’re fun. Just an excuse to get together. In a month, there’ll be a pancake breakfast, too.”
“Don’t tell me. Let me guess. To benefit the firehouse.”
She laughed. “Yep.”
“Do I have to go to all these things? Can’t I just send a check instead?”
“No! You have to go. Everyone does. People’ll wonder why you’re not there.”
“And I care about that, how?”
“You’re living in this town. Don’t piss people off unless you need to.”
“I need to.”
“Stop being a baby. Grow up, Rick. You’re pity party, temper tantrum is getting old. Get your butt to the barbecue. I’ll be there and so will most of the town.”
“If you’re going, I’ll go.”
“You’ve got to get over all this. Get back to life. Most people have crap to deal with in their lives…”
“Not like mine.”
“I’ll grant you, yours is much bigger. But still, you’re alive, healthy, rich – more than most people can say. Make a life for yourself and stop moping. You’re wasting time.”
He was silent.
“I’ll think about it.”
“I’ll see you at the barbecue. Gotta go.”
She hung up.
Rick filled his mug with fresh coffee and strolled outside on the deck, with Oliver trotting close behind. He grinned as he eased down on the rocker and watched the birds at the feeder. Ollie curled up in his bed and kept an eye on his master.
“Well, Ollie. We’re making progress. She wants us to come to the barbecue.” He glanced at the dog, who sneezed.
“Oh, wait! She bought ten of those awful kissing booth tickets. Guess she wants me to kiss her. You know, old fellow, I think that can be arranged. And I don’t have to wait for the carnival, either.” Rick downed the last of his beverage and took the pug on his morning walk.