Winter Solstice in St. Nacho's (St. Nacho's #5) - Z.A. Maxfield Page 0,53

she said “St. Nacho’s” as the locals call the town, sits on an “immense source of spiritual power” and “people can only see St. Nacho’s if the town wants them here.”

I laughed because I thought she was joking. It turns out she was totally serious. I don’t know if I like her in spite of the weird or because of it. I just know she’s going to be one of my favorite people ever.

Unfortunately, Minerva doesn’t have any job openings at her place, and my other choices are limited because I don’t want a job anywhere they serve alcohol. She’s going to help me look, starting with some pie place that might need dishwashers. I’ll take anything—minimum wage, or odd jobs, or gig work because I have no work history whatsoever.

It’s my first night here.

I’m trying not to get emotional about it.

Dinner was tasty, and we had a little meeting afterward where everyone introduced themselves and we talked. They’re into twelve step here big time, but I knew that going in.

When I talked to Echo the first time, I thought twelve step was a bunch of mumbo jumbo, but now it makes more sense. I thought I had to believe in the Christian God my biodad believes in, but I learned I could picture my own higher power. That made it easier. Sometimes I picture Luke’s mom—someone patient and kind, someone who doesn’t hold every single mistake against you.

Mrs. Greaves doesn’t know everything about me, but I believe if I sat her down and shared my entire past—even the gross things—she’d only be sad and hope for the best in the future.

I know she’d be kind because Luke is kind. It’s obvious he got that from his parents. They welcomed me into their shop and into their lives when I needed them, and they’ve never let me down once.

Don’t know why I ever walked away.

A thousand thoughts are swirling in my head. Some are exciting. Some are terrifying. I’m having a hell of a lot of trouble sleeping, despite taking the trazodone and two melatonin that usually help me drop off eventually.

It’s this emotional discomfort—anxiety, fear of the future, regret for the past, longing for Luke—that I used to escape through drugs. One kiss of the needle and I’d fall into a blank, black void.

I’m going to be up all night and then I’ll have to go to breakfast and wash dishes and hit the pavement as if nothing’s wrong. I have no other choice.

Sobriety sucks, but I won’t go back. Putting off my problems got me here. I’m trying something new because I want to go somewhere different.

Grr. I talk like a fucking poster these days, and I hate it.

I want Luke. I want to hear his voice. See his smile. I want this to be that wretched awful motel where he held my hand and covered me with thick blankets, and I knew he’d be there when I woke up.

I want Luke.

I want Luke.

I want Luke…

Tug

Leaving Tug at his new place wasn’t the most delightful thing I’ve ever done. On a scale of one to ten, ten being the best, driving away from the sober house was about a negative eleven.

Still, I’m not one to waste a day off. Five days in a row sounded like absolute heaven.

Except the first thing I did when I got to the Inn at Morro Bay was sleep. Oh, I know I was supposed to be enjoying my vacation, so I left the windows open so I could hear the waves and lay down “just for a few minutes.”

The next thing I knew it was time for dinner.

I’m no stranger to traveling alone. I Yelp’d a few restaurants with good recommendations and picked one with local seafood specialties. The view from a table by the wide glass windows was awesome, and I got there just as the sun was about to set. I ordered a pan-seared scallop appetizer and blackened fish tacos along with a glass of white wine, which turned into two, then three as dinner wore on. While I ate, I got the whole nature is beautiful show—shifting colors, fast moving clouds. It was brilliant.

After an absolutely perfect meal, the freshest fish, and the nicest, flirtiest waiter later, and all that wine, I reached peak relaxation.

My only problem was that with every sip, with every bite, with each new dish and interaction, I could only imagine how much more fun it would have been with Tug there to share it.