Selfish
“I guess I’m too selfish to be a good lover.” He said.
Margaret moved toward Bud Robert and smiled.
“Join the crowd.” Margaret said.
“Did someone mention shellfish?” She pointed to the gathering where a familiar pickup with sagging overloaded springs pulled into the parking lot behind the Mercy Bar & Cafe. Howard sat behind the wheel and waved at Bud Robert who looked at his watch.
“Thirty hours.
Get any sleep?”
“Never.” Howard answered. “I’m not dead yet.”
Gordon unhooked the bungies, rolled back the tarp and grinned.
crab, oysters and clams in a bed full of dripping ice beckoned. The charcoal in the barrel stoves were red hot and waiting. The beer taps flowed into laughing neighbors red cups.
Work at the farm could wait.
“Then” Bud Robert smiled and squeezed Margaret with a big hug. “Let’s go and be shellfish together.”
EXCERPT: MERCY MONTANA