“Don’t worry, Mom,” he said, holding back his laugh. “I’ll pick up the yellow onions. How much do you need?”
“Just a box to hold us over,” she said with a sigh, her ire sputtering out.
“Okay. I’ll see you soon.” He stepped out of his car and hurried inside the market. The sooner he delivered the onions, the sooner his parents would stop bickering.
He scanned the small market and found the person he was looking for. “Betty, please tell me you have an extra box of yellow onions in the back. I would hate to clean out your perfect display.”
“An entire box?” The proud owner of Nature Mart hurried to the back of the store. “I’m sure we have one. Let me check to make sure.”
“I appreciate it.”
A minute later, she came out carrying a box of yellow onions.
“Whoa. Let me take that off your hands.” Jack supported the bottom of the box to bear the brunt of the weight.
“You’re so gallant.” Betty chuckled, relinquishing her hold on the box of onions. “But I could carry three of these at once if I had to.”
“I believe you. You’re the fittest thirty-year-old I know.” Jack grinned, putting down the onions at the register.
“Bite your tongue, boy.” Betty, who wasn’t a day under sixty, smiled coyly at him. “Or I might not charge you for the onions.”
He left the store—after paying for the onions—and made his way to the brewery. The back door to the kitchen was propped open with a box of red onions, so he walked in without having to juggle the yellow onions in his arms.
“You got them?” His mom rushed toward him and expertly inspected the onions while he still held the box. “These look good. Thank you, Jack.”
“You’re welcome.” He put the box down by the sink and glanced around the spotless kitchen. “Where’s Dad?”
“Your dad needs a hobby,” she said, not answering his question. She must have kicked him out for getting in her way. His parents loved each other, but they also loved to bicker.
“Do you need help with anything?” With the onion crisis averted, he needed something else to keep him busy.
“Not right now.” She gave him a warm smile and a pat on the cheek. “Go and do what you came in to do.”
And he was deftly dismissed from her domain. Jack at one point had tried to learn his way around the kitchen, wondering if he could someday inherit it from his mom. But the brief experiment was disastrous, and he was forever banned from using the fryer. He was lucky his mom didn’t forbid him from entering the kitchen altogether.
There was a light at the corner of the dining hall that flickered. He should take a look at that. He grabbed his toolbox from the broom closet and headed to inspect the problem. The wiring for the light was connected with eight other lights in that area, so if it was an electrical issue, he was going to have to study a lot of YouTube videos to learn how to fix it. The prospect lifted his spirits as he tinkered with the light. But his hopes were soon dashed when it turned out to be a faulty light bulb.
He glumly returned his toolbox to its dark corner and trudged back into the hall. His shift didn’t begin for another couple of hours, and his afternoon seemed to stretch out endlessly in front of him. He dragged his fingers through his hair and pondered which hat to put on next.
“You’re in early,” Alex said, coming out of the brewing area.
“Brother o’ mine,” Jack bellowed with relief, earning him a mildly alarmed look from his twin.
“Jack…” His brother finished approaching him with careful, measured steps. “How are you doing?”
“How am I doing?” He scoffed to cover up his embarrassment for his over-the-top greeting. “Dude, we live in the same house and work at the same place. You’re acting as though we haven’t seen each other for days.”
“Riiight,” Alex said, scrutinizing Jack like he was a peculiar insect. “Did you have a nice day hanging out with your beloved numbers?”
“Of course.” Jack still enjoyed accounting days even though they weren’t as exciting or rewarding as they’d been. But Alex hated math with a passion, and Jack’s love of numbers bewildered him. “How about you? Did the brewing go well?”
“Yeah. Everything went smoothly.” Enthusiasm lit up his brother’s eyes. “But with a new recipe, you just don’t know how it’ll all come together until the tasting. I guess that’s part of what makes brewing exciting.”
Alex was born to be a brewer. Just like their younger sister, Tara. They were talented and passionate about what they did. Jack squelched the burst of envy inside him, but not before it made him feel small and bitter. How could he feel envious of his brother and sister? He wasn’t in a healthy place. He needed to pour his pent-up drive and ambition into a goal of his own, and the job in Los Angeles would provide him with that goal.
“Is Tara still in the back?” he asked, glancing past his brother’s shoulder. This batch was Alex’s recipe, but they usually lent a hand to whoever was at the helm for the particular brew.
“She’s out with Seth.” Alex went behind the bar and poured himself a glass of water. “Something about a wedding venue they’ve been dying to see.”
