The minute the door closed, a murmur of conversation hit the bar and I looked up to Colt to see he was staring at the door.
I grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. “You okay?”
He looked down at me and gave my hand a tug, bringing me closer. “This happens from time to time.”
“It does?”
“You okay, dude?” Morrie asked from behind the bar.
“Yeah, Morrie,” Colt replied to my brother but his eyes were on my mother. I looked to her and she still appeared fit to be tied.
“She knows you got trouble, she even said it, and she still waltzes in here –” Mom groused.
“Jackie, darlin’, leave it be,” Dad cut her off.
“Jackie, you know this isn’t a big deal,” Colt told Mom but he was lying, if it wasn’t a big deal, his hand would not nearly have broken mine. Twenty-eight years he’d been separated from his parents and that time had not diminished their power over his emotions.
Mom gave Colt a good long look, then her neck snapped around and she looked at Dee. “Delilah, make me a G and T and use a heavy hand.”
“I’ve never done a G and T,” Dee whispered to Morrie as Mom bellied up to the bar.
“Ain’t hard, babe,” Morrie said, turning toward the back wall filled with mirror-backed shelves of liquor and Dee’s eyes came to Colt and me.
“I don’t even know what a G and T is.”
“Gin and tonic, Dee,” I told her.
She nodded, lifted a hand and muttered, “Got it. I can do that, heavy hand,” and she turned to Morrie.
I looked back at Colt and prompted, “This happens from time to time?”
His hand came to my hip and brought me even closer as he leaned his back into the bar. “Last few years, every once in awhile. She’s been tryin’ to dry out.”
This was news.
“Tryin’?” I asked.
“She falls off the wagon a lot,” I nodded and he continued. “She’d come to the house.”
I put my hand to his chest and whispered, “Sorry, babe.”
“She usually needs money.”
“You give it to her?”
“Did in the beginning, or Melanie did. Melanie left, I kept up a coupla times, then quit.”
My eyes slid to the side, Mom was about five stools down, two of those taken by patrons who were pretending, badly, not to listen, but Mom also had Mom Hearing so I shifted to Colt’s side, my back to Mom and the customers and whispered low, “Mom know about this?”
“Nope,” Colt answered.
“She didn’t ask for money this time.”
“Nope.”
I got closer. “You really okay?”
“Nope.”
I dropped his hand, lifted mine, slid my fingers around his ear before they glided down to curl around his neck and I murmured, “Baby.”
He bent his head so his face was closer to mine and he murmured back, “Better now.”
God, I loved him.
To communicate this, I went up on my toes, touched my nose briefly to his and then rocked back.
“You gonna see your Dad?” I asked.
“My Dad’s standin’ in this room,” Colt answered and my chest got tight, not in a bad way, just that I was glad he found a good replacement.
“Colt –”
“Ma’s annoyin’ but I can handle it. The man whose seed made me doesn’t exist in my world.”
“Colt –”
“Beat the shit outta Ma, beat me, killed two kids, he doesn’t exist.”
I gave his neck a squeeze and for his sake, let it go. “Okay, baby.”
Colt looked to the door then back to me. “She loves you, you know.”
“What?”
“Ma, even when I was with ‘em and she was drunk, she used to talk about you all the time. Said you reminded her of her.” I fought my lip curling but he caught it and his arms slid around me pulling me close. “She used to be somethin’, Feb, would get smashed and show me pictures. You wouldn’t believe it unless you saw it but, honest to God, she used to be somethin’.”
More evidence that I’d made the right decision to pull my shit together before it was too late.
I nodded and said, “This sucks, we were havin’ a good day.”
“Yeah,” he agreed.
I smiled at him. “But day’s not done and tomorrow’s Sunday.”
Colt smiled back and repeated, “Yeah.”
“Don’t worry about Costa’s tonight. Come here, Dee’s on, Jessie’s watchin’ the kids. We’ll have family night at J&J’s.”
“Sounds good.”
I pressed into him and said, “I’ll pick a better song, one we can dance to.”
“I don’t dance, honey.”
This was true, he didn’t. He preferred to watch when I did it. I knew he could move though, because he would dance to a slow song. He was a great lead, his h*ps would sway, taking mine with them, and he had fantastic rhythm. If I’d had any experience at the time, I would have realized this prophesied good things to come.
Thinking about it, I said, “We’ll put some music on when we get home.”
He grinned and said, “Anything you want, baby, but when we dance at home, we’ll be horizontal.”
I grinned back and replied, “That works for me.”
* * * * *
Colt went to the Station to find out what was happening with the robbery investigation and I took over letting Dee shadow me at the bar. Making drinks and making change wasn’t rocket science but we were relatively busy and when it got busy you had to have a good memory and be able to multitask.
I saw George Markham, the head honcho of Markham and Sons Funeral Home, walk in still wearing a suit from funeral duties. He slid in beside Joe-Bob, caught Dad’s eye and Dad moved down to his end of the bar.
There were two funeral homes in town but most folk chose Markham and Sons. This was mostly because it was on the main drag. Therefore, if you had a funeral to host, you’d get maximum attention from people driving by, counting the mourners standing outside chatting or having a smoke. The location of Markham and Sons allowed the all-important assessment of the post-mortem popularity of the deceased.
Amy was quiet but young and well-liked and just the young part would draw people out because that kind of tragedy had a way of doing that. She was a bank teller so a lot of people knew her even though they didn’t really know her. When Colt and I walked through the milling crowd outside Amy’s viewing, she had to hit three and a half out of five on the popularity scale. This was saying something considering Colt told me Amy had no real friends left when she died.
I grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. “You okay?”
He looked down at me and gave my hand a tug, bringing me closer. “This happens from time to time.”
“It does?”
“You okay, dude?” Morrie asked from behind the bar.
“Yeah, Morrie,” Colt replied to my brother but his eyes were on my mother. I looked to her and she still appeared fit to be tied.
“She knows you got trouble, she even said it, and she still waltzes in here –” Mom groused.
“Jackie, darlin’, leave it be,” Dad cut her off.
“Jackie, you know this isn’t a big deal,” Colt told Mom but he was lying, if it wasn’t a big deal, his hand would not nearly have broken mine. Twenty-eight years he’d been separated from his parents and that time had not diminished their power over his emotions.
Mom gave Colt a good long look, then her neck snapped around and she looked at Dee. “Delilah, make me a G and T and use a heavy hand.”
“I’ve never done a G and T,” Dee whispered to Morrie as Mom bellied up to the bar.
“Ain’t hard, babe,” Morrie said, turning toward the back wall filled with mirror-backed shelves of liquor and Dee’s eyes came to Colt and me.
“I don’t even know what a G and T is.”
“Gin and tonic, Dee,” I told her.
She nodded, lifted a hand and muttered, “Got it. I can do that, heavy hand,” and she turned to Morrie.
I looked back at Colt and prompted, “This happens from time to time?”
His hand came to my hip and brought me even closer as he leaned his back into the bar. “Last few years, every once in awhile. She’s been tryin’ to dry out.”
This was news.
“Tryin’?” I asked.
“She falls off the wagon a lot,” I nodded and he continued. “She’d come to the house.”
I put my hand to his chest and whispered, “Sorry, babe.”
“She usually needs money.”
“You give it to her?”
“Did in the beginning, or Melanie did. Melanie left, I kept up a coupla times, then quit.”
My eyes slid to the side, Mom was about five stools down, two of those taken by patrons who were pretending, badly, not to listen, but Mom also had Mom Hearing so I shifted to Colt’s side, my back to Mom and the customers and whispered low, “Mom know about this?”
“Nope,” Colt answered.
“She didn’t ask for money this time.”
“Nope.”
I got closer. “You really okay?”
“Nope.”
I dropped his hand, lifted mine, slid my fingers around his ear before they glided down to curl around his neck and I murmured, “Baby.”
He bent his head so his face was closer to mine and he murmured back, “Better now.”
God, I loved him.
To communicate this, I went up on my toes, touched my nose briefly to his and then rocked back.
“You gonna see your Dad?” I asked.
“My Dad’s standin’ in this room,” Colt answered and my chest got tight, not in a bad way, just that I was glad he found a good replacement.
“Colt –”
“Ma’s annoyin’ but I can handle it. The man whose seed made me doesn’t exist in my world.”
“Colt –”
“Beat the shit outta Ma, beat me, killed two kids, he doesn’t exist.”
I gave his neck a squeeze and for his sake, let it go. “Okay, baby.”
Colt looked to the door then back to me. “She loves you, you know.”
“What?”
“Ma, even when I was with ‘em and she was drunk, she used to talk about you all the time. Said you reminded her of her.” I fought my lip curling but he caught it and his arms slid around me pulling me close. “She used to be somethin’, Feb, would get smashed and show me pictures. You wouldn’t believe it unless you saw it but, honest to God, she used to be somethin’.”
More evidence that I’d made the right decision to pull my shit together before it was too late.
I nodded and said, “This sucks, we were havin’ a good day.”
“Yeah,” he agreed.
I smiled at him. “But day’s not done and tomorrow’s Sunday.”
Colt smiled back and repeated, “Yeah.”
“Don’t worry about Costa’s tonight. Come here, Dee’s on, Jessie’s watchin’ the kids. We’ll have family night at J&J’s.”
“Sounds good.”
I pressed into him and said, “I’ll pick a better song, one we can dance to.”
“I don’t dance, honey.”
This was true, he didn’t. He preferred to watch when I did it. I knew he could move though, because he would dance to a slow song. He was a great lead, his h*ps would sway, taking mine with them, and he had fantastic rhythm. If I’d had any experience at the time, I would have realized this prophesied good things to come.
Thinking about it, I said, “We’ll put some music on when we get home.”
He grinned and said, “Anything you want, baby, but when we dance at home, we’ll be horizontal.”
I grinned back and replied, “That works for me.”
* * * * *
Colt went to the Station to find out what was happening with the robbery investigation and I took over letting Dee shadow me at the bar. Making drinks and making change wasn’t rocket science but we were relatively busy and when it got busy you had to have a good memory and be able to multitask.
I saw George Markham, the head honcho of Markham and Sons Funeral Home, walk in still wearing a suit from funeral duties. He slid in beside Joe-Bob, caught Dad’s eye and Dad moved down to his end of the bar.
There were two funeral homes in town but most folk chose Markham and Sons. This was mostly because it was on the main drag. Therefore, if you had a funeral to host, you’d get maximum attention from people driving by, counting the mourners standing outside chatting or having a smoke. The location of Markham and Sons allowed the all-important assessment of the post-mortem popularity of the deceased.
Amy was quiet but young and well-liked and just the young part would draw people out because that kind of tragedy had a way of doing that. She was a bank teller so a lot of people knew her even though they didn’t really know her. When Colt and I walked through the milling crowd outside Amy’s viewing, she had to hit three and a half out of five on the popularity scale. This was saying something considering Colt told me Amy had no real friends left when she died.
