The Landlord

Chapter 7

The waitress was swiftly writing this down. "Yeah, that's fine."

"Great, thank you."

When she left, I looked back to Blake. He was staring blankly at me with raised eyebrows, stunned. "Wow. I know I shouldn't be, but I'm surprised you're one of those people."

"I'm surprised nobody has come over to talk to you since we sat down."

His pretty blue eyes softened. "I'm sorry, you need to remember, that's how everyone is. Believe it or not, you'll get used to it."

"Doubt it," I chuckled. "Is this the only restaurant around?"

"It's the closest. Plus, I own half of it. There is a few more down the main road of coming into town, but that's it for at least 20 miles—"

"You own half?"

He took a sip of his beer and nodded, almost proudly. "Yeah. My buddy opened this a few years ago, but didn't have enough money, so we went in on it together. Unlike the gas station or marina, I don't generally work here or monitor it often."

"Is there anything else you have business in? And why so much?"

His stubbly cheeks rose with a nice smile. Like he was happy to hear me ask. "So, I moved here with my uncle. His name was Rick; he was highly respected and helped me get on my feet. He owned a good chuck of these establishments. He was smart, he knew the dynamics of living in a small town where convenience was desired. I always had an interest in it, so I started working for him and moved my way up. I love being able to provide services for people. It just feels good."

It was strange how automatically interested I was to know more. Know more about his life, this story, him in general. "Is your uncle still in town? Do you still work for him?"

He looked down to his beer. "He actually died about three years back from lung cancer. He never married or had kids. Living out here, I was all he had. He left everything to me."

Poor guy. That had to have been a lot thrown at him. "That's a shame."

He nodded back up to me and smiled. "He smoked Marlboro because no place had his preferred brand."

Uncle Rick sure was a compromising fellow. "Nope, I couldn't give Pall Malls up out of convenience. Not even for something else."

"Yeah, you're stubborn," Blake smirked.

"So, with all the business stuff he left for you, it's only you? The rest of your family doesn't help?"

"Well, they don't live here in Vermont. My parents actually live a few hours south east on the coast. Which is fine," he said, sipping at his beer and leaving it at that. "What about your family?"

"What about them?"

He smiled. "Is that a 'don't ask' kind of question too? I figured that one would be safe."

I sighed. Well... if I didn't talk, eating dinner would just be awkward. "There's not much to know. My dad and older sister live an hour south of here in Wilksberg. We grew up middle-class, comfortable, nice. My mom isn't really in the picture as much. She left dad when I was about 12 and doesn't bother with us." Which that also was fine. My mother was stuck-up and too good for us. I don't know why everyone always said we were so alike.

"That's hard. Not having a mother figure in your life."

I shrugged. "My dad remarried when I was 14. I call my step-mom my mom. Just out of habit though; we aren't close. She was and still is often away on business trips. So, dad took care of us girls."