Page 45 of The Long Way Found
Nothing from Jack. Fine. He’d noticed Jack’s Jeep wasn’t in the hotel parking lot when he drove by. Whatever.
He wasn’t sure whether to send a text or let the day unfold. He was still shy about seeming to expect constant contact already.
Fuck it, he thought, not letting himself off the hook. I’m almost 40 years old. I can want it without expecting it.
He texted Jack: “Morning. Gonna make it out to campus?”
After 15 minutes, Luke had moved on, pleasantly uninvested in whether he got a text back right away.
“Been here since 5. Crazy morning with some power lines down. But we’re getting things back up and running.”
That was practically a novel, to Luke’s surprise.
Don’t pile on; just be present, he thought before replying simply, “Good luck! At The Ridge all day in case you need anything.”
Good, he thought. That felt… good.
CHAPTER 15
JACK
Jack’s day began with a call from Hallicks at 5.
“Got a little problem that doesn’t exactly fall under your job description for history, military science, or the wrestling team,” Hallicks said. “But it would be a big help to us if you could guide logistics for restoring the downed power lines from the storm.”
“Of course. I was just leaving. How bad is it?”
“Not bad, I must say. We are, of course, fully prepared for a little snow,” Hallicks said. “But my maintenance ops director is out with COVID, and his assistant is in Mexico on vacation, so… we could sure use a smart leader on site.”
It took about an hour to get there, twice as long as usual. Hallicks texted him the address of the campus power facility and the name of the man in charge.
Mo Macy was the first out-of-shape character Jack had seen in Calder Ridge, where most folks lived active lifestyles and stayed trim and fit. The plant manager moved slowly but was friendly and seemed capable. He explained the situation well to Jack and asked for advice on managing resources and prioritizing tasks. Jack found it no different from leading anyone through any mission.
Investigate, assess, prioritize, execute.
That system always worked, in combat, office politics, and power grids.
Why isn’t it working so well on personal fronts, too?
With the lights back on by three, Jack had already rescheduled a couple of appointments that afternoon to look at rental properties. He bumped them to the morning and made sure Hallicks understood he wouldn’t be back until after lunch.
“You saved the day, Jack! Come in whenever you like tomorrow,” Hallicks replied, patting Jack on the shoulder and merrily shuffling off to his next emergency. “Let me know if you need help finding a place. We have resources for that.”
Jack made a note of that, but he was curious to learn more about the area by meeting people and seeing homes all over Calder Ridge—not relying on university housing for graduate teaching assistants or something on that level. He’d hold that in reserve.
The first place he saw Tuesday morning was a little ranch-style house that might’ve been OK elsewhere. But Jack didn’t want to live on the corner of Main Street and Highway 1.
Next, an apartment downtown was too old-fashioned, with condensation on the windows from the steam heat and a Brady Bunch-style kitchen.
“One more strike to go,” he said as he drove to the next place, a two-bedroom, 1,200-square-foot house on a quiet cul-de-sac in a pleasant, ordinary subdivision between the hotel and the old high school. It had covered parking, a generous deck overlooking a creek and offering mountain views, and no neighbors who shared a wall, ceiling, or floor.
The rental agent, a handsome woman about his age in a beige dress suit, happily gave him a copy of the lease and said he could move in as soon as he signed.
Funny, Jack noted. She was perfectly cordial but hadn’t asked a single question about him, hadn’t flirted, and hadn’t strayed from “strictly business” even once. He admired that efficiency.
Jack stood in the empty living room, looking out at the deck and the creek beyond. Mountain views. Quiet. Space.
I hope Luke likes the place, he thought.
