Page 7 of Micah

Those three words became a lifeline.

I got it.

He handled the bills.

The mortgage.

The things I couldn't because I was trying to build something better for both of us.

At least...

That's what I believed.

So when our parents were gone and Patrick suggested we leave Newark behind...

I didn't hesitate.

First it was Florida. Then North Carolina. Now we’re back in the Garden State. Dry Creek, New Jersey.

Population tiny.

Traffic almost nonexistent.

More pickup trucks than people, it seems.

It’s the kind of place where strangers wave from passing cars.

I'd never seen so much open sky in my life.

Patrick had this dream.

A neighborhood bar.

Cold beer.

Good food.

Local crowd.

He said we could finally stop struggling.

Stop surviving.

Start living.

It sounded wonderful.

I poured everything I had into this dream.

Every dollar I'd saved.

Every hour I'd worked.

Every ounce of faith I had left.

The Watering Hole is now my entire life.

Long days.