Chapter 13: Market Day

The recording clicked off.

Nobody in the yard moved.

The roses sagged in Dustin's hand.

"That's out of context," he said.

Patty spat a sunflower shell into the gravel. "What context makes that better, Dustin?"

He looked at Hayes on the tailgate, at the two Moss men by the trailer, at Patty.

Then he set the roses down on the hood of my truck, very carefully.

"You'll regret playing that," he said.

"I regret a lot of things. Not that."

He drove out with his window up.

Patty picked up the roses and put them in the burn barrel.

I thought that was the end of the roses.

It wasn't.

On Wednesday morning I drove to the shop and nearly put the truck in the ditch.

There was a billboard on County Road 9, half a mile from my gate.

It was the photo from our engagement announcement. Me and Dustin on the dock, my head on his shoulder.

Under it, in white letters four feet tall: NADINE, I'M SORRY. COME HOME. D.

I pulled over and sat on the shoulder with the engine running.

Patty pulled in behind me and leaned out her window.

"Who rents a billboard?" I said.

"A man with your parents' money, kid."

The texts started again by lunch, but nicer this time.

"Aw, he's trying."

"That's real love. Give him a chance."

Hayes read them over my shoulder at his shop that night with his bandaged hands held up.

"Give him a chance to what?" he said. "Set another dock on fire?"

"They think it's romantic."

"A billboard's not romantic. A billboard's a sign you've run out of people to ask."

On Saturday, Patty made me go to the farmers market.

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