The Best of Forevers

by Hargrove, A. M.

  “Yes, but it’s easier when you say it. The reality is—”

  “What you make it.” His eyes bore into me. “Only you can decide how you’ll accept the way you want to be treated. If you put up with being insulted, then people will continue to insult you. If you stop them, they won’t do it.”

  We’re at the end of the bar closest to the entrance when a horrific noise has me whipping my head around then ducking. A car crashes through the front of the building causing the windows to explode, showering us in glass fragments. Jeb shoves the stool I’m on so hard I go flying and land on my hip, bruising the hell out of it. I have no idea where he ends up. All I know is a car sits half in the building and someone has to be injured.

  “Jeb? You okay?”

  “Yeah,” he groans.

  “Where are you?”

  “Over here.” I can hear glass and metal crunching.

  “Don’t move,” I say.

  “Why? You want me to stay under this debris?” he says, sitting up. He shakes himself off as I grab my phone and hit 911.

  Then I tiptoe to the car, because the truth is I’m a chicken shit and scared of what I’ll see inside. But when I hear the moan, I scramble to open the door. Only it’s stuck.

  “Jeb, can you help me?”

  “Don’t think so.” Glancing at him, he’s cradling his arm, which is bent at an awkward angle.

  “Aw, shit.”

  “I’m fine. Nothing serious,” he says.

  “Yeah, right,” I mumble. He looks like he’s going to need major help with that. A short while later, the place swarms with police, firemen, and EMTs. The EMTs handle Jeb, placing him onto a gurney and attending to his wounds. One of his legs is cut, and his arm is definitely broken. By pushing me out of the way, he took the brunt of everything. And thank God he did because that car ended up pretty damn close to where I had been sitting.

  It turns out the driver was intoxicated. In fact, he’s still so inebriated he has no idea where he is. His injuries are minimal, scratches and bruises, but he is very lucky. Someone could’ve been killed.

  When I look at the damage to the building, I want to cry, but the fact that both Jeb and I are going to be fine helps.

  The EMTs insist I get checked out at the hospital because of the way I landed on my hip. The say if I don’t and have trouble in the future, I won’t have any recourse, or something to that effect. Jeb agrees, so I ride to the hospital with them.

  The news is good—as I suspected my hip is only bruised. Jeb, on the other hand, has to have surgery on his arm. He fusses over me and tells me to go home. But I won’t leave him. I’d worry to death. So I wait several hours in the surgery waiting room until the procedure is over and he’s moved to a room. Delores has called already, panicked, because when she showed up for work, she saw all the yellow police tape as well as the mess out front. After my explanation, she calms down a bit and asks what she can do.

  “Nothing really. I contacted the owner and landlord last night while the police were there. But I do need to call the employees to let them know we’ll be closed until further notice.”

  “I can take care of that for you. Then you can follow up later today or tomorrow.”

  “That would be great. Their names and numbers are on the kitchen wall by the shelf. And Delores, can you put a Temporarily Closed sign on the door?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “Thanks so much.”

  I’m sitting in Jeb’s room staring out the window when I hear a smart-ass comment. “If you keep sitting here all day, you’re gonna grow roots.”

  “Welcome back, sleepy head.”

  “Yeah, you’d be one too if you’d felt like you were hit in the head with a hammer. Damn, those drugs they give you.”

  “But aren’t you glad they have them?” I ask.

  “I dunno. Zaps the energy out of you. Hey, before I forget, I need someone to go and let my dog out.”

  “Shit. I’ll need your keys. Where are they?”

  He shakes his head. “Not you. Just give me my phone and I’ll take care of it. I have people.”

  “Ha. You have people, do you?”

  His good hand lifts up. “Oh, Special, I have lots and lots of people.”

  “Good. Call them in because we’ll need them to get to work. A Special Place needs fixing up.”

  His hand flies back and forth in the air. You’d think he was swatting gnats. “No problemo. I got it handled.”

  “Jeez. What did they give you? Crack?”

  “I dunno, but it’s some good shit.” Then he clicks his fingers. “Can you please hand me my phone?”

  The nurse in the ER gave me a big plastic bag with his stuff so I rifle through it until I find his cell. “Here you go.”

  He looks at it, squints his eyes, and then taps something. “Yeah, it’s me. I’m in the hospital. Broke my arm.” Pause. “Can you check on Jasper? He needs to go out.” Pause. “Great. Thanks. A car crashed through the front window of A Special Place.” Pause. “No shit. It’s why I have a broken arm.” Pause. “I know. Very lucky.” Pause. “Thanks, man.”

  Jeb looks at me and says, “He’s gonna take Jasper to his place.”

  “That’s excellent. Who is he?”

  “My buddy, Marvin.”

  “Good to know. I have absolutely no clue who Marvin is.”

  He frowns. “No? I thought you all had met. Are you sure?”

  “Positive. But that’s okay as long as Jasper’s good, which by the way, I had no idea you even had a dog.” I scoot the chair closer to his bed as he watches me. “Which brings me to something else. Now that I think of it, I know very little about you, Jeb Hutchinson, while you know almost everything about me. Why is that?”

  He shrugs with his good arm. “No idea. You like to talk a lot and I don’t?” Yeah, that could not be further from the truth.

  “Hmm, don’t think so. But tell me, now that we’re on the subject. I want to know a little more about you. Like what you did before you met me.”

  “Ah, that’s easy. I was retired.”

  “Retired? From what? You’re too young to be retired.” He’s only in his forties.

  “Not from the military.”

  “That’s right. I did know you were in the military—the Army, right?”

  “Yep, I was a Night Stalker.”

  “What the hell is that? The military’s version of a vampire?” His eyelids are at half-mast so I doubt I’ll get a straight answer from him.

  He blinks so slowly it looks like slow motion. My mouth curves up.

  “No, sugar, it’s actually the nickname for SOAR.” His speech is slow too.

  “SOAR. Am I supposed to know what that is?”

  His brow creases. “Probably not, now that you mention it. It stands for Special Operations Aviation Regiment.”

  “Oh.” I have no idea what that means. He lies there with a satisfied grin as though he’s shared the biggest secret in the world. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Anything at all.”

  “What is Special Operations Aviation Regiment? Is that some super secret society that works on airplanes or something?”

  Jeb points his finger at me and chuckles. “You’re pretty funny, you know that?”

  Me? Funny? Well, maybe on occasion. Currently, I’m not trying to be.

  “No, really. I’m trying to figure this SOAR thing out. Did you all sneak around the base at night and work on engines? Were you ninja engine repairmen?”

  “Ha-ha!” He slaps his leg. “I can’t wait to tell Marvin you said that.” Then he crooks a finger at me, motioning for me to scoot even closer toward the bed. I inch my chair in a bit. If I get any closer, I’ll be lying on the damn bed too. He leans toward me and whispers, “I was Special Ops.”

  My mouth hangs open as the pieces fall into place. Special Operations Aviation Regiment—a.k.a. Night Stalker. Well, I’ll be damned. Jeb was the real deal. He was a badass Special Ops military dude, the kind you see in the mo
vies. No wonder he knows all kinds of shit.

  That finger of his comes at me again. “You’re getting me now, aren’t you, sugar?”

  “I sure am. But where did this sugar crap come from?”

  He pouts. “You don’t like me calling you sugar?”

  “No, I don’t like you calling me sugar. You’ve never called me sugar. Ever. Until today.”

  “Oh. I was thinking I sort of liked that name for you. You act all tough and all, but you’re actually really sweet. And kind.” He jabs his pointer at me a third time. “You need to give that Wyndham kid a chance. He’s a good kid, Spesh.”

  Pushing my chair back a little, I ask, “And how would you know that?”

  “I just do. Okay?”

  He probably did more than a little internet searching on Weston than he said. Knowing what I do now, he probably asked a friend of his to do a background check or something. God, I hope not.

  “Whatever. We’re too different. Anyway, let’s not talk about this now. You need to sleep, and I need to talk to the landlord again so I can figure out what to do about the bar. We left things hanging last night.”

  Sitting up, he reaches over and grabs my arm. “You haven’t slept all night. Go home and get some rest, Spesh. The bar will be there tomorrow. One day won’t kill you.”

  “I know.” We lock gazes for a second and I add, “Jeb, I’m really glad you’re going to be okay. Thanks for shoving me out of the way. You saved me, you know.”

  He shrugs like it’s all in day’s work. I lean over and kiss his cheek. “I’ll call you later this afternoon.”

  “Get some rest, sugar.”

  I flip him off as I walk out.

  Chapter 16

  Weston

  Special won’t answer her phone or any of my texts. I don’t know how many times I’ve called, but it’s probably embarrassing. Disappointment grows inside of me. For the first time in, hell, I don’t know how long, I’ve found someone who I actually enjoy being around—someone who isn’t solely focused on who I am or how much my bank account holds. And now she won’t give me the time of day.

  The doctor pays a visit and lets me know I’ll be able to leave tomorrow.

  “But absolutely no work for the rest of the week. You can resume your normal activities next week. And by normal, I mean eight hours of work a day. No more, am I clear?”

  “Yes, doctor,” I say like an obedient kid.

  She smiles. “You had a very close call. If you had delayed getting here any longer, it could’ve been much worse. How’s your pain today?”

  “Better.”

  “Good. I’ll switch you to an oral pain med. We’ll see how you respond, and if you do well, I’ll send you home on that.”

  “Sounds fine,” I say.

  “I’ll be by in the morning to check on you before signing your discharge orders.”

  “Thanks.”

  The day drags by and my father shows up around seven. It’s a wonder he bothered at all. But as soon as he opens his mouth, reality sinks in. “Quinn, how soon are you coming back to work? There are several things waiting on you, and two projects are at a standstill while you’re lying around in here.”

  So much for fatherly concern. Most people would be hurt by his stern words, but I’m beyond those emotions.

  “The doctor was in earlier. Looks like I’ll be released tomorrow if she thinks I’m up to it. But she said no work until Monday.”

  “Yeah, well, I hardly doubt you coming in and sitting on your ass is considered work.”

  It’s not that I mind going to work. What I mind is his callous disregard for me. “May I remind you that said ass is why I ended up here in the first place?”

  Stormy gray eyes meet mine. “And may I remind you that your carelessness is what caused said ass to get injured and land you in here, forcing me to push back some major deadlines? Your reckless actions are now resulting in some unhappy clients.”

  Those little dots in the ceiling tiles are becoming very familiar to me. “Father, I hardly see how a week will—”

  “And that is one of your serious drawbacks, Quinn. You don’t have the foresight to look ahead far enough to see anything.”

  This is a no win argument. I’m surprised he hasn’t had my computer delivered here by now. “I’ll be in as soon as I can get out of here.”

  “Good answer.” He marches out the door and it’s a relief to see him leave. I’m not sure how much longer I can work for the man. How many times have I asked myself why he and my mother—two of the most uncaring people in the world—ever procreated?

  Blowing out a breath, I think how nice it would be to expunge all the toxicity from my life. Unfortunately, it’s not possible. As my brain spins, my phone buzzes. I almost ignore it, but then I remember I haven’t talked to Special.

  “Special?”

  “Weston? You don’t sound too well. Are you okay?” Special asks.

  “I’ve been better,” I reply, thinking about my father.

  “Has your fever returned?”

  “No, it’s not that. It’s … never mind. Hey, I tried to call you.”

  “Yeah, something happened last night.”

  I scoot up higher in the bed because her voice sounds weird.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, it’s fine. Jeb’s in the hospital. I’m actually getting ready to head that way now. I’ll stop by after I see him.”

  “What happened?”

  I hear a long sigh before she says, “I’ll explain when I get there.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you later.”

  Later ends up being much later. As in several hours. When she knocks and walks in, she looks like she’s about to keel over. “Christ, you look like shit.”

  “And here I was just about to tell you how much better you look.”

  After I hit the power button on the TV remote, I thank her. “I’m sure I still look like hell.”

  She squints and says, “No, honestly, your coloring is great. You look so much better.”

  “The doctor said if I’m up to it, I’ll be released tomorrow.”

  Special’s eyes light up. “That’s excellent news!”

  “I suppose it is. But tell me what happened to Jeb.”

  The light vanishes from her eyes. “Oh, it was a crazy thing, really. We were cleaning up the bar, and it was late. Suddenly, the glass in front of the building exploded.” Then she continues to explain how this drunk driver drove his car into the place.

  “Jesus, you both could’ve been killed. You should sue his ass. He’s a menace to society. That’s what Uber and taxis are for.”

  “He didn’t mean it,” she says.

  “Special! What if Cody had been standing next to you and didn’t get out of the way in time? That guy never should’ve been behind the wheel.”

  She’s sitting in the chair next to the bed and drops her head into her hands. “Oh, God, don’t say that. It was awful as it is. They took him to jail. He only had a couple of scratches.”

  “Sue him, Special. He needs to be taught a serious lesson.” I am adamant about this.

  When she lifts her head, her cheeks glisten. “No, don’t cry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  She balls up her fists and rubs her eyes. “I’m so tired. And I wasn’t crying.” Her defensive attitude makes me want to laugh, but the serious tone prevents me.

  “Yes, you were. Your cheeks were wet. Crying’s not a bad thing. You don’t have to hide it.”

  Two lines form between her eyes, and she aims her pointer finger at me. “I think I should know if I’ve been crying or not. My eyes are burning because I’m exhausted. They’re watering. I’m not some frail, whining excuse of a woman, like whatever her name was who was here to visit you. She probably cries at the drop of a hat.”

  I hold up a hand. “Whoa, sorry. It wasn’t meant as an insult. And, just so you know, you’re right, Evelyn is whiny. And she’s a big pain in my ass.” I’d hoped my comment about Evelyn wou
ld get a chuckle from her, but it doesn’t. She only rubs her forehead as if she has a headache.

  “Are all your friends like her?” she asks.

  It takes me a while to answer her because I have to think about it. “No, actually, I don’t associate much with the people I grew up. My father doesn’t like it, but I won’t let him dictate to me what I do away from work.”

  She pulls her lower lip in as she studies me.

  “You don’t believe me?” I ask.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “But you don’t exactly trust me, do you?”

  She scowls. “Let’s just say my experience with your kind hasn’t been the best.”

  “My kind?”

  Air explodes from her chest. “Rich, spoiled people who treat others like shit.”

  “Okayyy. Can we take a step back for a second? Did I say something to offend you?”

  Large eyes that remind me of a frightened doe stare back at me. Then she sighs as though the burdens of a million people rest on her shoulders. “That was completely unfair of me. I apologize. This has not been a very good day, and here I am complaining while you’re still sick in the hospital.”

  “I’m fine. Just a bit tired. But you should go home and rest.”

  She rubs her eyes again. “Is there anything you need while I’m here?”

  “There is. I need you to go home and sleep. When was the last time you slept?”

  She shrugs. “No idea. I’ve lost track.”

  “Go. Text me when you wake up.”

  She struggles to stand, and that’s when I notice her favoring her left side.

  “What happened? You’re limping.”

  “Oh, it’s nothing. Jeb shoved me away, like I told you, and I crash-landed on my left hip. I had it checked and it’s fine. Only bruised.”

  Satisfied she’s not injured, I say, “Put some ice on it when you go to bed.”

  She gives me a nod and a little wave as she leaves.

  “Hey, Special.”