Instead of being embarrassed or looking to me to make things better like most chicks would, my wife winked at the waitress. “I was kind of hoping you would.” She set the check down on the table and left but she could have been naked skipping through the place and I wouldn’t have noticed. I was too busy staring at the swollen lipped little vixen that was my wife as she took a sip of her beer. “Holy shit, I’m getting hard again,” I said.
Dre covered her mouth to prevent spitting her beer onto the table. She laughed as she wiped the dribble on her chin with a napkin. “The things you say,” she said, a blush creeping up her cheeks.
“Does it bother you?” I asked. “The way I talk. The things I say.”
She shook her head. “No. I think the way your mind works is incredible. Hilarious at times, but still incredible. It’s unexpected.” She pressed her lips together and toyed with the edge of the label of her beer. “You’re just you, and there’s no one else like you.”
I coughed and glowered at the bottle in my hand as if it was the beer’s fault, and not my emotions, I was choking on. “I think the way you look. The things you do. The way you are with Bo. With me. God fucking damn it, Doc. You’re the incredible one.”
She inhaled sharply.
“Now eat while you can because I have a surprise for you,” I told her.
“Another surprise?” she asked, eagerly picking up her crab-cracker. She stuck her tongue out of the side of her mouth and concentrated on breaking the hard shell of the crab.
I took a sip of my beer and leaned over my plate. Her eyes met mine.
“You’ve got a lifetime of surprises coming your way, Doc.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Dre
My next surprise turned out to be Ray and Thia who were kind enough to organize a bachelorette for me. They’d both become great friends in recent months.
They took me to a bar called Hansen’s where we played pool, drank pitchers of warm beer (everyone except Ray), danced to the music from the live band, and talked about all things wife/woman/mother/life while pretending like we didn’t know that Wolf and Rev, who were standing on opposite corners of the room, were sent to keep an eye on us.
After our second pitcher of beer, I excused myself to use the restroom.
I was in a stall doing my business when I heard the door open. A wave of loud music from the band came bursting in then swiftly disappeared as the door was shut again. I didn’t think anything of it until I heard the door being locked. Footsteps slowly clacked across the uneven tile. “Ray?” I asked. “Thia?”
No answer.
I really wished the stall was the kind you could see under but no such luck, the door went all the way to the floor.
Fear turned to panic as the footsteps stopped just outside the stall.
I pulled up my panties and pulled down my dress assessing where I could go or what I could use as a weapon, but there was nothing. I was about to just push open the stall hoping to hit whoever was standing behind it and make my escape when a loud knock came at the bathroom door. “Why the fuck is this locked?” A female voice slurred, followed by more knocking. “Open up we gotta pee,” another girl shouted.
The footsteps retreated. I heard the door being unlocked followed by both the music and the chatting girls stumbling their way in.
I slowly unlatched the door and when I emerged there were only two girls in the bathroom. One was fixing her lipstick. The other was peeing in the sink with her red panties down around her ankles.
“Was there anyone else just in here?” I asked.
“No, but we thought the door was locked, but I think it was just jammed, we got it open.”
“And there was no one else in here?” I asked. “Are you sure?”
Did I imagine the footsteps?
“No one but us and our fine selves,” the one girl answered, hopping off the sink and pulling up her panties. “Wait, were you waiting for someone so you could like hook-up in the bathroom?” The other girl asked, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “That’s so slutty, I fucking love it.”
I left them behind in the bathroom. The only explanation for what I experienced was a left over side effect from when Preppy’s mom had someone attempt to kidnap me. Fear in its most basic form running amok.
She’s dead. There’s nothing to fear. I reminded myself.
Plus, there was a very important day coming up, so of course I was a little on edge.
Logically, there was no way someone could have been in the bathroom, unlocked the door and left, without those two girls not seeing them. By the time I’d made it back to the pool table to join Ray and Thia, I’d convinced myself that it was all a misunderstanding and I’d let my imagination and fear take over.
It was my bachelorette party after all. I was going to make the best of it.
Ray handed me a shot and I took it without asking what was in it. The clear liquid burned my throat on the way down. No sooner than I set the glass down on a nearby table did a pair of masculine hands grabbed me around the waist from behind. I shrieked, but the voice only laughed. He released me and I twirled around to find myself face to face with Brandon!
I shrieked again, this time in delight instead of fear. I jumped into his arms and gave him a hug that bordered on strangling. “Hey, doll face,” he said, setting me back on the floor.
“I can’t believe you’re here!” I said.
“These girls over here called me and told me that it would be a major life travesty if you didn’t have your bestest friend in the entire world here for your bachelorette.” Ray and Thia paused their game of pool. “So here I am! You have them to thank.”
“Thank you so much guys,” I said, leaning against Brandon. I’d missed him in recent months. A few phone calls a week wasn’t the same as having him nearby all the time.
“Don’t thank us,” Ray said, lining up her shot.
“Yeah, I don’t even know what he’s talking about,” Thia added with a wink.
“I’m glad they let a boy crash your party, especially since they just tossed one out,” Brandon said with a wink, tossing down his own shot and wincing with one eye shut.
“What? Who?”
“Oh, he means Kevin,” Thia said, sinking the corner shot she’d been aiming for. “He showed up just as you went to the bathroom. Tried to crash our party so we gave him the boot. No boys allowed...” she looked to Brandon, “unless that boy likes other boys.”
Thia looked to Wolf and Rev who were scanning the crowd. “Or unless you’ve been hired to be here for security,” she amended.
They all clinked their beer bottles together. “Hey, is everything okay?” Brandon asked me with a nudge. I couldn’t help the sinking feeling in my stomach.
“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine,” I said, because it was. It’s not like Kevin would make his presence known to a bunch of potential witnesses and then try to assault me in the bathroom.
Right?
I plastered a smile on my face. The rest of the night was spent laughing, playing pool, dancing, drinking, and singing off key at the top of our lungs. At no point did I think of that incident again because I was having a great time.
It wasn’t even lingering in the back of my mind at all. Not even a little bit. Since it couldn’t have happened, it didn’t need to be thought about.
Not when the bar shut down and we all said our goodbye’s. Not when Wolf drove me home. Not when I turned the key in the lock. Not when I pushed open the door. Not when I slowly walked passed Kevin’s shut door before checking in on Bo. Not even when I curled in bed next to Preppy and wrapped myself around his big warm sleeping body.
Nope.
Not at all.
Besides, even if I did have any fears or lingering concerns, they’d have to wait. Tomorrow was already booked solid.
Tomorrow, I marry my husband.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Preppy
“You picked a creepy-ass place for this shindig, Prep,” Bear grumbled
. “Was the county morgue all booked up or something?”
“It’s not my fault your as unsentimental as you are a bad dresser,” I said, flicking my cigarette. “This place is sweet and utter perfection. Don’t be pissed at me because Thia made you adult today and wear a shirt.”
“Okay, girls, calm it down over there,” King said, his arm around Ray’s shoulders.
“Ti said you told her I HAD to wear one,” Bear spat, pulling on the sleeves of the dress shirt he had put on under his cut.
“You got played, motherfucka!” I sang in a high-pitched voice.
Thia gave Bear a knowing wave from where she stood over by the front gate. “This thing’s itchy as fuck, I’m taking it off,” he said, pulling off his cut to remove his shirt just as Thia came walking up to us.
“Too fucking late, Beary Boo Boo,” I teased.
“Fuck,” he groaned, shrugging his cut back in place. “It’s a good thing I’m your best man or this thing would be off already.”
“I thought I was your best man?” King asked.
I didn’t get a chance to tell them that neither of them were my best man because just then Thia passed Bear and came up to me instead. “Can I talk to you for a second?” she asked, her pinkish-red hair, which was usually unruly and sticking out in every direction, had been tamed into a pile of curls pinned to the top of her head.
“Uh, sure,” I responded, following her around to a quiet corner. “You know, I don’t think we’ve ever talked more than a handful of times,” I pointed out. “And I could use some new ammo against Bear every so often.”
“Talking would be nice,” Thia said. She reached into the pocket on her dress. “I wanted to give you something,” she handed me a folded piece of paper.
“Ti, I’m getting married today. It’s a little too late for love notes, don’t you think?” I asked, turning the paper over in my hand. Thia giggled and we both glanced over to Bear who was watching us with his arms crossed over his chest and a hard look on his face.
“Do you know how Grace was always hiding things?” Thia asked, rocking from her heels to her toes.
“Yeah,” I said. “I remember that anytime she needed cash she’d be digging something up or hunting in the back of the freezer. She’d have things taped to the backs of picture frames and cereal boxes.”
“Well, since we’ve moved into her house I’ve found a lot of things like that. A twenty-dollar bill here and there. A coupon for free entrance to the swap meet. A ledger to a bank account that no longer exists.” Thia pointed to the page I’d begun to unfold. Samuel was written across the top in familiar handwriting. “This was taped to a truss in the attic. I found it while I was cleaning it out. I thought that you might want it today, so you can have a piece of her with you.”
I glanced down at Grace’s handwriting, running my fingers over her words. “Thanks, Ti,” I said, not able to take my appreciation any further with words because I was amazed at what I was holding.
“I’ll leave you alone.” Thia turned away.
“No, please. Stay,” I said.
“I’m not gonna hold you while you cry,” Thia teased. “But I’ll stay.”
“Deal,” I said, turning my attention to Grace’s words, written in neat cursive.
My Dearest Samuel,
This might just be a crazy letter coming from an even crazier old woman, but I feel in my heart I have to write it anyway. You may never read this, but I can’t NOT write it.
In case you didn’t already know, you’re dead. Or at least that’s what I’ve been told by numerous individuals who all make me want to run them over with Edmond’s old truck. So that’s what I’ve believed all these months. That you’re gone. I believed it when I held your blood-stained shirt at the hospital. I believed it when we lowered your casket into the ground.
I’ve mourned you. Every single day I’ve mourned you, my dear boy.
But something is missing and at first I thought it was a normal feeling of loss. Loss of light that always surrounded you. The color in my life. But it’s more than that. A lot more.
Because when I get on my knees at night and pray, I close my eyes and pray I don’t feel like you’re on the other side like my Edmond.
I haven’t brought this up to anyone, and I know it’s impossible, but my hope is that this is all either a nightmare or I am indeed crazy.
If I am crazy then I wish to save sanity for those who want or need it more, because I don’t want to live in a world where I don’t have hope that you aren’t out there somewhere.
Heart beating, warm skin.
I have hope. And because I have hope, I still have you.
It’s the little things I miss about you. Like correcting you even though I loved every word that comes out of your smart mouth, even the bad ones. Even when I was scowling at you on the outside, my heart was always smiling on the inside. Because you, Samuel, are a rare one. Someone who is as smart as they are cunning. Ever since the day King brought you to the house, just a skinny wrinkled-shirt boy, I loved you.
I hope she does too.
And my hope is that when you do come back, you go to whoever it is I’ve seen the flashes of sadness for in your eyes, and you hold onto her and never ever let her go. You’re a good person my Samuel, even if you’ve never thought you were.
Come back to us and share your burdens with your brothers. With your family. Let them be there for you like you’ve always been there for us. Let HER be there for you.
Whoever she is.
You are hard headed. The most stubborn young man I’ve ever met in my entire life and that says a lot considering I know Abel and Brantley and I’ve lived a long life and have met many, many people. None as unique as you. None as flawed as you. None as passionate and wild and enthusiastic about life as you. There is NO substitute for Samuel Clearwater and there never will be.
Life is colorless without you.
I love you, son.
I miss you more than words.
If ANYONE on this planet could avoid death somehow, I know it’s you. So come back. Come back to your family. I may not be here when you get back, but I’ll be watching you turn the world bright again.
If I’m wrong. If you are there on the other side when I get there, just know that I’ll be angrier than you’ve ever seen me in your life so consider this your only warning to get a head start.
I love you, Samuel.
My son.
Always & Forever
In this life & the next,
Mama Grace
I didn’t say a word when I was done reading, I just wrapped Thia in a hug. She was right. Now in a way Grace was with me. I felt more complete now. More at ease with her not being there.
“You’re welcome,” she said into my chest. Bear was already stomping over to us. I released her and tucked the note into my pocket.
“You know, I never really got to thank you either. For taking Chop out. I feel like a bitch that I didn’t get a chance to do it myself or see it go down but I’m glad the fucker’s dead, so thank you,” I said.
“Eh, it was no biggie,” Thia replied. “Had to protect this brute over here.”
Bear reached us and draped an arm over Thia’s shoulders.
“You can’t seriously be jealous of a hug,” I said, rolling my eyes at Bear. “I mean, I’m not jealous when you talk to Dre and you’ve had your dick in her.”
Bear grimaced.
Preppy: The Life & Death of Samuel Clearwater, Part Three Page 13