When It Rains It Pours

Garrett Walker’s headlights cut through the darkness as his truck rumbled and rattled through the back roads of Ash Hollow. The digital clock on the dashboard read 1:43 a.m. Garrett could remember a simpler time when 143 meant "I love you" in beeper code, but love was not exactly the sentiment Lindsay would be feeling when he finally rolled up to the house. His stomach knotted just a little at the thought of what was waiting for him once he got home.

Lindsay was definitely going to be pissed.

But maybe, she’d be asleep. He rolled down the window, halfway to let in the damp North Carolina air that was laced with the scent of honeysuckle and traces of summer rain.

Leaning his elbow against the door, he let the wind toy with his hair, as though it could somehow whisk away the weariness in his eyes and the floaty feeling in his head. He wasn’t drunk exactly, just a little loose. Buzzed enough to where the night lost its edge, and now that he was alone without the noise and distraction of the bar, his mind was less guarded against intrusive thoughts. His brain started whispering nagging truths that he didn’t ask for. The anticipation of Lindsay’s disappointment, and how much work was going to inevitably suck tomorrow, circled his brain like fish in a glass bowl. He rolled his neck side to side in an attempt to loosen the muscles that tightened slightly at the idea of dragging ass through another shift, plagued by headache and potential sunburn.

Installing roofing trusses wasn’t exactly rocket science. Show up when needed, line it up, nail it in, make sure all is secure, then rinse and repeat. Day in and day out. Same job, different roof. As the familiar road stretched out before him, his mind wandered back to when he’d stumbled into this pattern of easy paychecks and predictable routines.

Once upon a time, when he was fresh out of trade school, he dreamed of starting his own business refurbishing old houses. Renovating forgotten spaces and reinvigorating them with new life. A second chance at becoming some couple’s happily ever after. That dream had quickly taken a backseat, upstaged by the lure of easy money, annual raises, and cookouts at the boss’s house, so now, the dream of becoming the next HGTV Cowboy had been shoved into the junk drawer of his mind, along with the dreams of becoming a dinosaur hunter or the next Spiderman.

Garrett let out a sigh as he turned the truck down the familiar stretch of road that led to the house he and Lindsay shared. The knot in his stomach twisted just a little tighter. He was way beyond the point of trying to convince her that he had only met the boys for just one beer. In all honesty, he hadn’t really meant to stay out this late. The original plan had been to meet his boys at Shooter’s for a couple of beers, but that had quickly evolved into multiple rounds of darts, pool games, and reliving the same old tales of high school glory that had somehow become the new fish stories. The touchdowns were bigger, the crowds were wilder, and Bubba's swearing that made it to third base with the captain of the cheer team. The truth was, when faced with spending the evening at home with her or going out, Garrett just didn’t feel that there was anything there for him besides that crushing disappointment that he wasn’t living up to her expectations and that somehow they had grown into two completely different people.

Turning into the driveway, he killed the lights. Slowly rolling to a stop, he stared up at the house looming in front of him.

The lights were on.

She was awake.

She was waiting for him.

It hadn’t always been like this between them. He and Lindsay used to have fun. They used to be in love. Believe it or not, they used to enjoy each other’s company. She would laugh at his dumb jokes and silly impressions. They were an unstoppable force at pool, and they loved taking spontaneous adventures just to find new places to watch the sunset.

But lately?

Lately, Lindsay seemed to always be mad at him. Whether he went out, whether he stayed in, whether he remembered to pick up the coffee creamer or laundry detergent she had texted him about, it just seemed that Garrett could never win or get it right.

They had been having the same tired fights for months. Lindsay was hell-bent on more. Whether it was making more money, going for a graduate degree, or leveling up within her company, her ambition was relentless. She was always planning and pushing, and he knew she wanted him to push too.

There was also the question concerning the direction of their relationship and where it was headed. Lindsay made no secret of the fact that she wanted to get married and have kids - in the not-so-distant future. She would occasionally drop casually loaded comments about engagement rings and biological clocks. It wasn’t that Garrett didn’t want these things, too; it was just that lately everything felt squeezed and a bit forced. He felt stuck, like someone had hit pause on his life and then lost the remote.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Opening the truck door, he stepped out into the night, the gravel crunching under his worn work boots. As he made his way up to the porch, the motion-sensor light came on, signaling his return. He could already imagine how this was going to play out, and he really didn’t have the fight in him tonight. The lectures, the yelling, the eye rolls, the silent treatment - all of it made his stomach turn. He dug his keys out of his pocket, unlocked the door, and stepped into the quiet house to face the woman that he wasn’t sure he could ever make happy anymore.