down my glass. "Well, I'm sure that my life could have ended up differently, if I made some different choices!" I insisted.
He looked at me. "Like what?"
"Well..." I sat back, my eyes looking off to one side as I thought back. "I went to college, but I never really pursued anything with my degree. Maybe, if I'd actually gone to work instead of coming back to watch over the family property, I might have made something of myself."
"What was your degree in?" he asked, taking a sip of beer.
"Um... entrepreneurship." I narrowed my eyes at Lance, waiting to see if he was going to laugh at me, but the man kept his face still and composed. "I always wanted to start my own company, and the Monteclaires used to own several businesses."
"So why didn't you?" he asked, after I fell quiet for a minute.
I shrugged. "I planned to. But just after I graduated, I came back here to look after my dad before he passed away. And once he died, I inherited the house and the land, and I've got enough savings to live off of the returns as long as I don't spend too much. I couldn't really bring myself to leave all of it behind to jump into something new."
After a second, I shook off the cobwebs of memory clinging to me. "So yeah, maybe I'd be a billionaire business owner if I'd kept going," I joked briskly. "But what about you? What's a path that you left behind?"
Lance frowned with introspection, and I leaned forward, trying to not make my interest too obvious. Despite that we got into long conversations most evenings, I still felt like I knew very little about his past. Lance kept his lips tightly zipped, most of the time.
"I could have put down roots," he finally said, still frowning a little. "I sometimes do think about what would have happened if I did that."
"Roots? Like, staying in one place?" I didn't even know where he was originally from.
He nodded. "My dad owned a welding shop - fixing cars, mostly, but he worked on anything that folks brought in. My older brother inherited the shop, but I could have stayed, could have worked there, probably been a partner. Would've been enough to pay for a house, probably."
"Is that where you learned to fix things?" I asked.
Another nod. "Yeah, I liked the mechanical aspect, building and fixing things with my hands. Liked that, but didn't like dealing with the customers. And I always kept an eye on the horizon, too. Think that's why I left."
"What if you had stayed?" I inquired gently. "Where do you think you'd be?"
It took a few seconds before Lance answered. "Maybe have a family," he mused quietly. "Get a house, get hitched, settle down. Get a kid, a boat, maybe, just take it easy. Be a part of the community."
After he fell silent, we both sat there quietly for a few minutes, finishing our drinks.
Finally, I set down my wine glass with a clink on the table. "Well, glad we know what we gave up," I announced brightly. "You could have been a dull, boring dad, and I could have been a mean, cutthroat billionaire businesswoman. Glad we both dodged those bullets!"
I had to look hard to see it, but I caught a smile dance briefly across his features. "Close call," he agreed.
I stood up. "And now, I think another glass of wine is in order."
Chapter eleven
That wasn't our last conversation about destiny, although most nights we kept the topic less serious. Bit by bit, just from proximity, we opened up to each other.
By a month later, I was used to emerging from my bedroom each morning to find Lance shirtless in the kitchen, cooking up breakfast. "Just something thrown together," he'd always defend the food, as if he needed to make some sort of excuse.
I never complained, of course. Most of the time, my mouth was too full of delicious food and hot coffee to even think of voicing any objections. Besides, this was better than I'd eaten in ages!
After breakfast, we'd often part ways. Lance would head out into town to get supplies for whatever project he was working on that day, or else he'd just go
He looked at me. "Like what?"
"Well..." I sat back, my eyes looking off to one side as I thought back. "I went to college, but I never really pursued anything with my degree. Maybe, if I'd actually gone to work instead of coming back to watch over the family property, I might have made something of myself."
"What was your degree in?" he asked, taking a sip of beer.
"Um... entrepreneurship." I narrowed my eyes at Lance, waiting to see if he was going to laugh at me, but the man kept his face still and composed. "I always wanted to start my own company, and the Monteclaires used to own several businesses."
"So why didn't you?" he asked, after I fell quiet for a minute.
I shrugged. "I planned to. But just after I graduated, I came back here to look after my dad before he passed away. And once he died, I inherited the house and the land, and I've got enough savings to live off of the returns as long as I don't spend too much. I couldn't really bring myself to leave all of it behind to jump into something new."
After a second, I shook off the cobwebs of memory clinging to me. "So yeah, maybe I'd be a billionaire business owner if I'd kept going," I joked briskly. "But what about you? What's a path that you left behind?"
Lance frowned with introspection, and I leaned forward, trying to not make my interest too obvious. Despite that we got into long conversations most evenings, I still felt like I knew very little about his past. Lance kept his lips tightly zipped, most of the time.
"I could have put down roots," he finally said, still frowning a little. "I sometimes do think about what would have happened if I did that."
"Roots? Like, staying in one place?" I didn't even know where he was originally from.
He nodded. "My dad owned a welding shop - fixing cars, mostly, but he worked on anything that folks brought in. My older brother inherited the shop, but I could have stayed, could have worked there, probably been a partner. Would've been enough to pay for a house, probably."
"Is that where you learned to fix things?" I asked.
Another nod. "Yeah, I liked the mechanical aspect, building and fixing things with my hands. Liked that, but didn't like dealing with the customers. And I always kept an eye on the horizon, too. Think that's why I left."
"What if you had stayed?" I inquired gently. "Where do you think you'd be?"
It took a few seconds before Lance answered. "Maybe have a family," he mused quietly. "Get a house, get hitched, settle down. Get a kid, a boat, maybe, just take it easy. Be a part of the community."
After he fell silent, we both sat there quietly for a few minutes, finishing our drinks.
Finally, I set down my wine glass with a clink on the table. "Well, glad we know what we gave up," I announced brightly. "You could have been a dull, boring dad, and I could have been a mean, cutthroat billionaire businesswoman. Glad we both dodged those bullets!"
I had to look hard to see it, but I caught a smile dance briefly across his features. "Close call," he agreed.
I stood up. "And now, I think another glass of wine is in order."
Chapter eleven
That wasn't our last conversation about destiny, although most nights we kept the topic less serious. Bit by bit, just from proximity, we opened up to each other.
By a month later, I was used to emerging from my bedroom each morning to find Lance shirtless in the kitchen, cooking up breakfast. "Just something thrown together," he'd always defend the food, as if he needed to make some sort of excuse.
I never complained, of course. Most of the time, my mouth was too full of delicious food and hot coffee to even think of voicing any objections. Besides, this was better than I'd eaten in ages!
After breakfast, we'd often part ways. Lance would head out into town to get supplies for whatever project he was working on that day, or else he'd just go
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