We Were Right About Magic

Remembering Westland {romance}

Jacob hadn't wanted a lot out of life—maybe a place to call his own, a nice family and a little time to make art. He certainly wasn't one of those people with drive and ambition, destined for big things. He was okay with a small life, as long as it was a happy one, but apparently, even that was too much to ask.

He was forty-three now, and still hadn't really settled in anywhere. He changed apartments each time another job fell through, and he did so on his own. One by one he had watched every relationship he had go sour and the small dreams he was after collapse in on themselves. Now, after twenty-five miserable years on his own, he was doing the one thing he had always sworn to himself he would never do—he was going back to stay with his parents.

He was embarrassed as he drove into the old town. There was no one in the world with dreams small enough for Westland, not even Jacob himself. It had once been a farming town, full of men taming wild land to their own advantage, but a few years of drought and recession had hit the town hard. Not many people remained, and even fewer were happy to be there. The houses were run-down and many were abandoned. They were cheap at least, which was enough to trap what little population they still had. If you could survive the featureless landscape of the town, you could at least do so cheaply, and most of the people left in town simply didn't have the money for anywhere else. Now, Jacob thought, that probably included him.

He had mostly come to terms with moving back in with his parents, but it still stung his ego enough that he wasn't ready to go straight there. Westland had exactly one bar, and he easily remembered where it was. He had spent half his time in high school handing around the place, flashing a fake ID that none of the bartenders bother to checky. He headed there now, hoping he had enough money left to buy a couple of drinks at least.

The bar was exactly as he remembered it, which somehow made him feel worse. If he thought back to the last time he was in this bar and compared it to now, all it did was remind him of the ways in which things had gone so wrong. He almost turned his back, but he didn't think he could go home sober. He was sure his dad had a whole lecture planned about the merits of farming as a career.

"I'll take whatever's cheap," he said, collapsing on the first stool with a sigh. Everything in the place was cheap, but it was a popular request so he wasn't questioned. The bartender slid a single shot glass his way. The candid liquid lightly rose and fell from side to side for a moment and reflected the dull humming lights from the bar back at Jacob, who couldn't bring his eyes to look anywhere else. It felt as though the weight of the world took a taunting perch atop his shoulders and he had no choice but to succumb to it's will.

"What is this stuff?" he asked the bartender without looking up.

"You don't want to know."

Jacob nodded and took the shot. It burned his throat as it went down, and he nearly coughed in surprise. He'd had alcohol plenty of times, but not like this. The alcohol content wasn't so much a problem as the acrid flavor that invaded his nose and mouth. He shook his head to try and clear it, the after taste was bitter like vinegar. Jacob finally looked up at the bartender for the first time. He had been meaning to ask for another drink, but his words caught in his throat. He knew the girl behind the counter.

"Maddie?" he asked, surprised to see her in an apron. Really he was just surprised to see her at all.

She shot a forced smile at him. "Actually, I go by Madison now."

"Right," Jacob repeated. "Madison. It's good to see you."

"I guess," Madison said, reaching behind her and pouring him another drink. "This isn't exactly the scenario I would have preferred if I was going to see you again."