Sunnyside Christmas

by Jacie Floyd

  Rocking some basketball shorts and t-shirt that showed off his muscles, Liam was helping a couple of guys in the weight room. With a jerk of his head, he nodded her toward his office.

  A boy that looked so much like Caleb it nearly broke her heart perched on Liam’s chair, playing tug-of-war with Shelby for a knotted rope. At her entrance, the dog made an enthusiastic beeline in her direction. The mini-Caleb looked up and observed her from behind Liam’s desk.

  While greeting Shelby with head rubs, she smiled at the boy. “You must be Adam. I’m Jillian, and I hope you’re hungry.” She held up the bag of food. “I’m here with lunch.”

  “Nice to meet you,” he said, fidgeting in his chair. “What did you bring to eat?”

  “Mexican food from a local place that makes such good burritos you’ll be hooked for life. I am.”

  They divvied up the food and popped open their sodas. She sat in the visitor’s chair across from him, and they dug in like old friends.

  “Uncle Liam said you were his girlfriend in high school.” Adam dipped a quesadilla section in salsa. “So you’ve known him a long time.”

  “Since first grade.”

  “Did you know my dad, too?”

  She should have expected that question. “Your dad, your grandparents, your aunt Missy. The whole family.”

  “My dad died before I was born. The only people I know who knew him are Uncle Liam and my mom. Talking about him makes them sad though. Does it make you sad?”

  “Thinking of him makes me more nostalgic than sad.” She took a second to douse a taco with hot sauce. “What makes me sad is that he died without getting to know you.”

  “Can you tell me anything about him?”

  “I’ll tell you what I remember.” She bit into her taco with a satisfying crunch, then wiped her chin as sauce dribbled down it. “He was older than me, and I didn’t hang out with him that much.”

  “He was older than my mom, too.”

  “Yes, but her family lived down the road from the Bowmans, so she saw him a lot more than I did. My only connection to Caleb was through Liam.”

  “Last night he said Dad was a good athlete, and they were pretty competitive.”

  “That’s one way of describing it.” She forked up a bite of beans and rice. “They were always trying to see who could run the fastest or jump the highest. They built tree forts, raced go-karts, and shot hoops incessantly. Their cousin Jimbo was right there with them. The three of them were inseparable, roaming around the farm.”

  The child consumed a taco in silence for a moment. “I’m not very good at any of that stuff they did.”

  “Well, I get the feeling kids don’t play outside as much as they used to. And you live in the city. If it’s just you and your mom, she probably doesn’t encourage your competitive nature. There’s no one urging you on. And you haven’t gotten your full growth yet.”

  Shaking his head, he shrugged. “I’m one of the shortest in my class.”

  “Don’t tell Liam I said so, but I was taller than he was through elementary school. He was about your age when he started growing. We were the same height in seventh grade and when eighth grade started, he was half a foot taller. That’s when he really started to excel in sports, too.”

  “What about my dad? How tall was he?”

  “They were close to the same height the last time I saw them together.”

  “When was that?”

  “New Year’s Eve before he joined the Army. There was a party at my father’s lake house. Some of the guys had been drinking, and Caleb came out to give them a ride home.” After their friend Josh’s death a few months before, they’d been particularly sensitive about making sure everyone got home safely.

  “Had Uncle Liam been drinking?”

  “No.” Not much. “But some of our friends were definitely under the influence. Liam had ridden with me, and my car was a little two-seater, so Liam called his brother to get the others home.”

  “Did they get in trouble for drinking?”

  “They would have if they’d been caught, but sometimes teenagers push their boundaries.” She wouldn’t lie to a little kid, but no point in providing all the gory details either. “Maybe in St. Louis there’s more to do, but in small towns like Sunnyside, activities are limited.”

  “What’s going on in here?” Liam came in, dragging a chair behind him. “Are you two eating all the tacos?”

  “We saved you some, Uncle Liam.”

  Shelby greeted him with a wagging tail. He sat down and started unwrapping food while the dog settled at his feet. “How are they?”

  “Good,” Adam said around a mouthful of queso.

  “I guess you introduced yourselves.”

  “Yeah, and you were right. She’s really pretty.”

  Liam pulled back in horror. “I didn’t say she was pretty. I said she was pretty annoying.”

  “Yeah, right.” Adam rolled his eyes, unwrapped a burrito, and made a show of studying it before he looked up at Liam. “One thing I really want to know is, why don’t I have grandparents?”

  “We’ve talked about this before, buddy.” Liam patted the boy’s back, then stole one of his chips. “Your grandmother died when Aunt Missy was little, and your grandfather took off before she was born. I’ve only heard from him a couple of times since.”

  “No, I mean, where are Mom’s parents? Jillian said they used to live down the road from you. Where do they live now?”

  Jillian and Liam exchanged a long look. She could see him struggling to locate an acceptable answer. “They still live there,” Liam finally said.

  Adam’s eyes lit up. “Can I meet them?”

  “That would be your mom’s decision. We’ll ask her when she calls.”

  “I’m going to text her.”

  “You know she’s not getting texts where she is. We’ll have to wait until we talk to her.”

  “Why don’t I already know them? St. Louis isn’t that far from Sunnyside.”

  “They had a disagreement when she was young. She moved away, and they didn’t approve of that decision.”

  “So they don’t know about me?”

  “I’m not sure. My grandparents got along with them when Caleb and I were younger, but by the time we were teenagers, the Watkins’s disapproved of everything we did, and the two families stopped talking.”

  “Why?”

  “Your mom’s parents were extremely religious. They were strict with her about everything from the way she dressed to what time she went to bed, and who she associated with. Since Caleb and I didn’t go to her church, they didn’t want her to hang out with us anymore.”

  “Is that why she left?”

  “Partly.”

  “They sound mean.”

  Jillian thought so, but she didn’t want to prejudice him against them before he met them. “What they might call protective and strict, other people might call mean or controlling.”

  “They might want to meet me,” Adam said stubbornly.

  “They might,” Liam agreed, “but I’m not one of their favorite people. If you’re with me, that might be a strike against you.”

  He turned imploring eyes toward Jillian. “What about you? Are you one of their favorite people?”

  Although it was hard to refuse that sweet face, but she wasn’t about to get in the middle of this story a second time. “I’m afraid they don’t care for me either.”

  “And we wouldn’t want to drag Jillian into our family business if she was, would we?”

  “I guess not.”

  “I’m sure this will all work out,” Jillian said, not sure of any such thing. Liam had a holy mess on his hands here. She was a little surprised Leah hadn’t expected something like this. Surely she knew her son, and that he would be curious about his relatives. Maybe that was her plan all along. For Liam to handle it. Not Jillian’s problem. She balled up her food wrappers and stood. “I’ve got to get going. I’ll see you boys later.”

  Liam gr
abbed her hand and her pulse raced. “Want to join us for dinner?”

  She smiled down at him. “Are you asking me if I’ll make dinner?”

  “I don’t expect you to cook. I thought you might like to see the farm again. I’ll pick something up.”

  “You’re going to die from malnutrition before you’re forty, you know that?”

  “It’s my way of living on the edge.”

  He always had, but seeing him interact with Adam, made him seem almost domesticated. As much as she wanted to see him again, she didn’t want to get too attached. To either one of them. “I have plans for tonight.” That might or might not include him, but that wouldn’t be determined until later. “Maybe tomorrow.”

  “We’ll plan on it.”

  She stretched her mouth in a fake frown, realizing she was being a pushover. “Okay. I’ll make dinner at my house and bring it out to heat up.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Discreetly dressed in black, Jillian slipped in through The Kitty Cat’s back door. Afraid of running into someone she knew, her heart pounded as she slinked past the stairs, pool room and kitchen down the long hallway.

  After making it into the club undetected, she stopped to get her bearings in the dim light. The girls had decorated since she’d been here last, just as Liza said they would.

  Each of the nude sculptures sported Santa hats, strings of lights or garland draped in strategic places. Two tacky-as-hell, raunchy and sexist Christmas trees had been erected; one for the boys and one for the girls.

  On the male version, the ornaments consisted of mini beer mugs, model cars, miniature cowboy boots, humping reindeer, handcuffs, and packets of condoms. There were even Santas in thongs mooning the room. The female tree featured plastic martinis, red kissy lips, festive do-me heels, fornicating elves, and naked grannies with sagging breasts. Garland for both trees had been made with wine corks, peanut shells, and pull tabs.

  Hilarious if you had a juvenile sense of humor. Or had been drinking. Or both.

  Apparently, the dancers and musicians were taking a break. The stage was bare except for the fireman poles and an odd collection of props. Construction workers, farmers, salesmen, and other assorted male customers sat around tables near the stage, knocking back beverages. Some of them alone, others in groups.

  The number of women scattered throughout the room surprised her. They were drinking, having a good time, and pretending to be at ease in this sexist environment. Girl’s night out. Walking on what passed for the wild side in Sunnyside.

  Shadowy booths in the back had black curtains that could be closed on three sides. Some of the booths contained male/female couples, and a few others contained single men. Individual men, she should say. Who knew if they were single or not.

  The idea of checking out the dancers and the club during business hours like Liam had suggested had sounded better when Rachel had planned to join her. But when she’d had to back out, Jillian should have backed out, too. But she was here, and she was curious. Gathering her courage, she tried to make her way to an empty booth without drawing unwanted attention. But that was easier said than done. Her butt was pinched twice as she passed a rowdy group.

  After Jillian took a seat, a busty waitress in too much makeup and a tight, low-cut bustier, snug short skirt, and fishnet stockings came over. The name tag pinned to one of her boobs said “Tara.” Jillian had met the woman on Sunday when she’d looked more like a tired, stressed-out mom than a hooker ready for sex.

  “What can I get you, hon?” The waitress handed her a menu.

  If Tyrell was on duty, Jillian might order something to eat. But for now, she wasn’t sure she wanted to stay long enough for an order to come up. She obstructed the view of her face with her hand across her forehead. “White wine, please.”

  “Hey, Jillian!” The waitress donned a bright smile. “Come to see the show? You’re in for a treat. Betsy and Lacey are bringing back their Naughty and Nice routine. It’s more like dinner theatre than a strip show.”

  May as well remind Tara that Jillian’s interest in the place was strictly business. “I’m just here to check everything out.”

  “Everyone will be so tickled.”

  That’s what she was afraid of. “I’d rather they didn’t know.”

  “Mum’s the word, but if it’s Liam you’re trying to dodge…” The waitress looked around for her boss. “There’s not much goes on here that he doesn’t know about. He’s got cameras everywhere.”

  “He told me.” In fact, she was counting on it. If he didn’t already have her under surveillance, she didn’t think much of his security system.

  “Be right back with your drink.” Tara strutted away in high-heels that did amazing things for her ass. Not that Jillian normally noticed such things.

  She slumped down and tried to blend in while taking in her surroundings. Gradually, other eyes turned her way. Men were accessing both her appearance and her presence and arriving at their own conclusions. She had every right to be here, and they had no right to judge. Except for that patriarchal, sexist, chauvinistic right most of them believed they were born with.

  About a minute later, an obnoxious guy with slicked back hair, tight shirt, and naked lady tattoos on his forearms sidled up. “Looking for company?”

  She pretended to think about it, then shook her head. “No.”

  “It might be a cliché,” he said, “but I have to ask what a classy girl like you is doing in a place like this.”

  Doubting if he knew anything about classy girls, she picked up the menu and squinted to read it in the dim light. “I heard the food was good.”

  He gave a disbelieving snort. “Lots of places have better food. A pretty girl like you doesn’t come to a dive like this for dinner.”

  Jillian smiled. “She does if her big, bad-ass boyfriend’s the cook.”

  The guy raised his hands and stepped back. “Fair enough. I’ll be over there if you change your mind.”

  Jillian would happily join Tyrell in the kitchen before she changed her mind about that guy. Returning her attention to the menu, another shadow fell across her table. An eager looking thirty-ish guy in a brown sport coat, open-necked shirt, and khaki pants hovered at her side. He looked like a non-threatening salesman-type with a receding hairline. She might have been willing to let him down easy, but the wedding ring on his left hand turned her off.

  “May I join you?” he asked.

  “No.” As he ignored her response and slid into the far side of the booth, she decided to toy with him a bit. “Not your kind.”

  He stopped mid-slide and smirked. “What kind are you looking for?”

  “The kind without a penis,” she purred.

  He chuckled and continued into the booth. “You’re not gay, are you? That’s really a waste.”

  “Maybe so,” she said. “But I love to come and watch the dancers. Or, you know, watch the dancers and come.” She added a little shimmy and squirm to the innuendo. “Some of them are really hot. With incredible bodies. And mouth-watering moves.” She fanned her face with her hand.

  His face went a little slack-jawed, and he swallowed. “Have you ever tried sex with a guy?”

  “I experimented with both sexes before I made my choice.” She tucked the tip of her index finger between her lips and gave a little suck. Removing it, she tapped him on the chin with the moist tip and leaned in. “In my experience, men are unsatisfying, selfish pigs.”

  He took a big gulp on his drink. “Maybe I could change your mind.”

  “Maybe.” After a long considering look, she shook her head with exaggerated regret. “But sorry, I have a strict no-sex with married men policy.”

  “What difference does that make? You don’t think any of the strippers are married?”

  “I don’t care if they are. Mostly I’m just here to watch, drool and fantasize, but if it ever went any further with one of them, and her husband wanted to join in? That’s fine with me. As long as they both know and a
gree.” She flicked her fingers in a shooing motion. “So it’s time for you to move along.”

  Finishing his drink, he slammed the glass down hard enough for the ice cubes to rattle. “You’re a real bitch, aren’t you?”

  “That’s right, that’s me. Making a nuisance of myself by hitting on a guy who’s not interested.” The musicians were returning to the stage. The twang of the guitars filled the room. “Looks like the show’s about to start. You don’t want to miss that.”

  With a sneer he turned away, bumping into Liam who was waiting beside her booth with the glass of wine she’d ordered. “Don’t waste your time, Liam,” the guy said. “She’s either a dike or a cock-teaser, but I gave it my best shot, and she’s not interested.”

  “I’m not worried, Larry.” Liam sat the wine in front of her, scooted in and slung his arm along the back of the booth with a brief proprietary shoulder squeeze. “She’s here to interview for a job, not to suck my dick.”

  Larry shrugged. “If you’re lucky, she’ll do both.”

  Every muscle in Liam’s body tensed, but he smiled and reached out like he meant to high-five the jerk, but contrary to his normal high-level coordination, his aim was off, or he flipped his hand wrong, or something about the gesture misfired. The wineglass flew across the table, splashing wine on Larry’s pants.

  “Sorry about that.” Liam gestured for a waitress as Larry sputtered and cursed. “Your drinks are on the house for tonight.”

  Tara hurried over to swipe the dampness off the crotch of his pants with a towel and enough attention that Larry soon forgot about Jillian. The waitress slipped her arm around his waist, leaned into him, and guided him back to his table with promises of a fresh scotch and anything else he wanted coming right up.

  “You all right?” Liam said into Jillian’s ear.

  “Sure, jerks like that are the same everywhere. I wasn’t asking for it, but I gave as good as I got.”

  “Better. You gave better than you got.”

  She grimaced. “You heard that?”

  “Some of it.”

  “You’re not mad that I gave one of your customers a hard time?”