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How good are you at asking for help?

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CHAPTER FOUR Jake started thinking about Unc when he woke up. The familiar fog was there, the rushing throb of a headache that beat in time with his heart. He was so used to it by now that he only noticed when it was gone. He kept on thinking as he puttered around the trailer, moving from the queen size bed under the curved roof on one end to the full size sofa under the picture window on the other. Thirty feet or so, but the different space didn’t offer any clarity. He hated Sundays. Amanda kept the bar closed on Sunday. She said she needed a day off. And laughed when Jake asked for a key so he could go in and drink by himself. Told him he could drink at home, which he did, but it wasn’t the same. Nothing was. He could hear the cars on the road from here. The street wasn’t busy, just enough traffic to remind him he wasn’t alone. Hell, maybe he missed the sound of construction across the street. The damned real estate development had been go...
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