Shark Bite

by K L Montgomery

  The memory paints a smile on my face, and I even feel a tiny tear stinging at the corner of my eye. If I can’t recall a happy story from childhood without crying, there’d be no freaking way I could tell someone my parents died in a car accident without me getting to say goodbye and avoid bawling my eyes out.

  “Earth to Megan,” Walt says, leaning toward me. At the same time, the server sets our salad plates in front of us, and I have a moment to recuperate. “Where’d you go just now?”

  I wait for the server to be out of earshot. “Sorry. I had this silly memory from childhood—did you know Shark and I were best friends when we were little?”

  He bites his lip and stares at me. “No. Wow, I did not know that.”

  I laugh and nod. “We didn’t either until recently.”

  “What do you mean?” His eyebrows arch with a healthy dose of skepticism.

  “Well, we only knew each other from around ages five to eight. Our parents were friends, and we hung out all the time, especially on the beach. Then he moved away. When I met him a couple of years ago, I didn’t realize it was him. He’d changed a little…”

  “Yeah, hard to imagine Shark as a kid when he’s so…”

  “Tattooed and bearded?” I laugh. “Well, he did shave off the beard this summer, I guess. But he had it when I first met him a couple years ago. I had almost forgotten about that little boy I used to play with on the beach.”

  “How did you figure it out? Let me guess, he also didn’t go by Shark.” He chuckles as he grabs another piece of bread from the basket. “He didn’t recognize you either?”

  “No, apparently not.” I stab at a tomato in my salad and chew it up before continuing the story. “My parents saw the photo of him with Matt and the Beach Buddies kids in the paper after your first game a couple of weeks ago. They recognized him when I said his name was Shannon.”

  “Oh, yes, Shanny-boy,” Walt says with a laugh. “I always give him a hard time about his name—he does not look like a Shannon!”

  “I dug out some photos from my old family albums and showed them to him,” I continue. “He was kind of indifferent. It was weird.”

  “I think he has a strained relationship with his family,” Walt explains. “He hasn’t said much about them—it’s the impression I’ve gotten when he’s spoken of the carriage company.”

  Things are quiet for a few moments while we both work on our salads. “So you met him a couple of years ago and had no idea he was your childhood friend?”

  “Yeah. Weird, huh? I met him at the cast party for a musical I was in with my best friend Lindy. Shark is friends with Meric—well, you met them at the game the other day and then again at the carnival planning meeting. Shark and I…”

  Wait, what am I doing? I can’t tell him that.

  “You what?” he asks, lifting his eyes from his salad plate to stare at me expectantly.

  “Oh, we have kind of a love/hate relationship is all.”

  “Interesting,” Walt decides. “Very interesting.”

  And that is the end of our discussion of Shark.

  11

  “What’s up, man?” Meric greets me, slapping my back. “You look tired.”

  “Gee, thanks, bro.” I huff out an exasperated breath and look my buddy in the eye. “We can’t all be low maintenance accountants.”

  His grin is one of a settled, contented dad-to-be. “Let me buy you a beer; that’ll help make up for it.”

  I follow him toward the bar. “Where are Jason and Ryan?”

  “They both cancelled. I guess Hannah made Jason feel guilty for having a guy’s night, and who knows, Ryan probably had a date or something,” Meric guesses as he lifts himself onto one of the barstools.

  “But Lindy let you out of the house. You gotta good woman.” I give him a playful punch on the arm.

  “That I do. And I know I won’t be able to get away as often after the baby comes, so I better enjoy my freedom now.”

  I chuckle. “That’s when you’ll need to come hang out with the guys the most!”

  We both order a beer, Meric with his pansy craft shit and me with a Guinness. “Work really sucked today, so sorry if I don’t seem my usual warm and cheerful self.”

  Meric almost bursts into laughter. “Yeah, you’re usually so warm and cheerful.”

  I smirk at my own joke. I can make fun of myself from time to time. “Yeah, had one die on me today.”

  He puts his hand on my shoulder. “Sorry, man. That sucks.”

  “Yeah, at least you don’t have to worry about your clients dying on you.” I shake my head. I’m going to need more than one beer, that much is certain.

  “How’s your rugby season going? Sorry we didn’t make it to your game last week. Lindy had a school thing,” he apologizes.

  I wave him off. “No need to come to every game, but we appreciate your support when we can get it.”

  “This carnival is shaping up to be pretty great! Wow, that Megan is a firecracker, isn’t she?”

  Hearing her name reminds me she’s out with Walt tonight. I don’t mean to cringe, but I do. I can’t help it. The thought of her with him is ripping my heart into shreds, and no matter how hard I’ve tried to deny it, there it is. Yeah, I know I gave him my blessing. If anyone else is going to have her, it should be him.

  What am I doing? Talking about her like she’s a prize to be won. That’s what an asshole I am. She should choose whatever man suits her best. I just know I’m not him.

  “Yeah, Megan is something else.” The bartender slides a frosty mug over to me, and I’ve never been happier to put my lips on a glass than I am now when I take a long swig.

  “Whoa, slow down, man. We’ve got all night.” Meric laughs and slaps my back. He holds his mug up and offers a toast, “To friendship, beautiful ladies, and the last dying days of summer.”

  I clink my mug with his and set it down, half-empty, on the bar top. “That was mighty poetic for an accountant.”

  “Well, you know I have my artistic side,” Meric reminds me.

  He doesn’t have to remind me. He was a total ham in that musical I saw him in a couple years ago, and the dude can really sing. It’s no wonder Lindy fell for him, though she is pretty damn talented too. I can only imagine their kid will be on Broadway by the time he or she is ten or fifteen.

  I try to take a more measured sip this time, but end up downing the rest, so I signal the bartender for another. Meric is pacing himself. He rarely drinks more than one or two when we go out. It’s weird. I thought we were getting the whole group together. A shame Jason and Ryan couldn’t make it.

  “So I wanted to ask you about something Megan told me,” Meric says, his eyes locking onto mine.

  “What’s that?”

  “Is it true you guys hooked up?”

  It’s a good thing I didn’t just take a drink, or I might have choked on it. “What the hell, man? Why would she tell you that?”

  “She assumed I knew—and seemed surprised when I told her you weren’t the type of guy to kiss and tell.”

  I scrub my hand down my face. I miss my beard. I had to shave it off for my new job—though I told everyone it was just for the summer. I can’t grow it back as long as I work for this company. They like all their paramedics and EMTs clean-cut.

  “So it’s true, then?” Meric presses.

  I’m ready to change the subject and have already done it in my mind, but I humor my buddy with an answer. “Yeah, but that was two years ago now.”

  “And there wasn’t…you know…something worth pursuing there?”

  “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.” I gratefully accept the fresh beer from the bartender.

  “She told me you guys knew each other when you were younger…”

  I let Meric’s words hang in the air while I down half of the second beer. I can’t believe he’s bringing this up. I’ve known Meric for a long time, and I can’t imagine it was his idea to harass me about this. It must have been Lind
y who put him up to it.

  “Look, even if I did want something more with her, it’s too late. My buddy Walt is out on a date with her right now.”

  “What?” Meric’s brows lift almost to his hairline. “Why, man? Why didn’t you tell him you had a history with her?”

  I shrug. This is none of Meric’s business, and I have half a mind to tell him just that, but I also feel like he was probably put up to this. “It doesn’t matter, okay? Walt is a much better match for her than I am anyway.”

  “Why would you say that? Because he’s a vet?”

  I can feel the anger start to bubble up in my veins. I’m afraid any words that come out through my seething jaw are going to be poison-tipped and expletive in nature. Meric doesn’t deserve that.

  He surveys my expression, and it doesn’t take him long to realize I’m about to blow up. “Sorry, man. I didn’t mean to hit a sore spot.”

  Sore spot? Thinking about Megan with Walt tonight is like a gut punch. But every word I spoke is true. She’s better off with him.

  “So, how’s the EMT gig working out? Still glad you switched careers?” Meric wisely changes the subject.

  It’s not my favorite topic either, but it’s better than talking about Megan. “It’s okay. I miss the bicycle shop sometimes, but I wasn’t cut out to run a business.”

  “Yeah, it’s not for everyone,” Meric agrees. “I know you’re doing good work. And if not for that bicycle shop, I wouldn’t have met you, since you hooked me up when I first moved to town.”

  I have to chuckle at that. It was fate that brought us together. He had just moved to town, and I was trying to get my business off the ground. Meric was self-employed too, so we leaned on each other. And we were both single, so we’d go out for beers and blow off some steam. Never could convince him to join my rugby team, though. He says he’s a lover, not a fighter.

  “Do you ever talk to the guy you sold it to?” Meric’s shoulders have relaxed. He seems to be glad we’ve moved away from our previous topic. He was definitely given a mission by his wife to grill me about Megan. I wonder what Megan said to them about me…about us.

  But I’m not going to think about that now, damn it.

  “Eh, I drop in there from time to time. It doesn’t feel like mine anymore, you know?”

  He nods. “Yeah, I hear you.”

  We sit in silence for a few moments watching a couple of younger guys shoot pool. I’m glad I came out tonight. I’m sure if I’d sat at home knowing Megan was out with Walt, I would have just brooded and felt like shit. At least I’m not doing that. My therapist always says the right kinds of distractions are like magic.

  I’m going to need a lot of those types of distractions if Megan and Walt become a couple.

  The dew is sparkling on the fields when I make my way to my dad and stepmom’s house, kicking up dust on their road as my truck tires spin over the gravel. My stepmom invited me for Sunday brunch, and I haven’t been out since I asked my dad about sponsoring my team, so I figure I better go. My brother was an asshole about doing it, but I finally got a check in the mail this week. I don’t know why, but that felt like a victory to me.

  I pull my truck up to the barn, out of the way of the other vehicles, and head toward the door. My stepmom has a bunch of flowers on the porch, and though the house is old, she’s made it look as homey and welcoming as possible. I think her kids help out with some stuff around here. I should probably do more. She’s always been kind to me. And now that I don’t speak to my own mother, she’s really the closest thing I have to a maternal figure.

  “Shay, it’s so good to see you!” She hugs me as soon as I enter the house and suck in the aroma of eggs, bacon and pancakes. My stomach is rumbling as I follow her into the kitchen.

  “Hey, Kathy, smells great in here!” I wrap my arms around her waist, thanking god I got a Hungarian stepmom who loves to cook.

  “Well, here, pile up a plate and have a seat. You want coffee?” She gestures toward a stack of plates on the counter.

  “Where is everyone?” I grab a plate and make my way toward the stove, where the steam is rising from mounds of fluffy yellow eggs, a pile of crispy bacon, and a stack of golden-brown pancakes with blueberries in them.

  “They’ll be here after bit,” she says, immediately raising my suspicion. She would never serve cold food to anyone.

  I turn around from the stove to face her, the heavy plate feeling like a brick in my hand. “What’s going on?”

  “Sit down, Shay. I’ll get you some coffee.” Her voice grows stern, a tone I rarely hear from her, at least not directed toward me.

  I take a seat at the wooden farmhouse table that has benches on the two long sides and chairs on the ends. I sit on one of the benches, a place of deference to the heads of the table. Though my stomach is growling, I’m not diving in until she sits down and tells me what the hell is going on.

  It feels like it takes an hour for her to settle herself in at one of the chairs. She scoots a mug of coffee over to me and points toward the creamer and sugar. “Here, help yourself.”

  “I’m good. I drink it black.” I take a sip, letting the hot liquid scald my tongue. I have a feeling I’m going to need my tongue out of commission for a while to make it through this meeting, or whatever it is.

  I’ve never sat in the kitchen alone with Kathy before. My dad, my brother, or one of Kathy’s kids has always been here too. It feels weird, and though she’s always been warm and friendly with me, I feel tension rising off her.

  “Shay, I need to tell you about something.” She clears her throat and stares at me with her pale blue eyes.

  “Just spit it out, okay?” I cram a strip of bacon in my mouth and chew, waiting for her to fill the awkward silence.

  “Okay, then.” She glances down at her mug of coffee—the fact that she didn’t fill a plate for herself is unnerving—and then back up to me. “Your father is selling this place and dissolving the company.”

  “What?” My heart starts to beat like a drum inside me, revving up the tempo until I hear my pulse in my ears. “Why would he do that?”

  She reaches for my hand and covers it with her own. “He wants to move out west. It’s always been his dream, since he was a little boy.”

  She’s not wrong. I remember him talking about the time he spent out west as a kid and young adult. He always wanted to take Declan and me out there, but it just never happened. Actually, I found out later he did take Declan out there on vacation after I was out of the picture. Knowing how special the place was only made it sting that much more to know I wasn’t invited.

  “So, Declan will just take over, then, right? I mean, he pretty much already has.”

  Her face cracks into a tiny wisp of a smile as she shakes her head and looks down again, seemingly gathering up the strength to tell me the rest of the news. “Your brother is going with him.”

  “What?” I struggle to keep my mouth from gaping open, so much so, that I stuff some eggs in it for good measure, but they taste like rubber in my mouth as I chew. And it’s not Kathy’s fault, because her eggs are usually great. It’s that they’re tainted by this news that has suddenly come to light.

  “What about the—”

  “He wants to sell this place and dissolve the company. And I know it’s been in your family for generations. I think it’s a mistake.”

  My eyes widen as I stare at her. “You do?”

  Her eyes trail over my tattoo-covered forearms, looking at all the symbols and animals inked onto my skin. She seems particularly mesmerized by a dragon I got for my thirty-fifth birthday a little over a year ago now.

  “I’m staying here, Shay,” she tells me, the resolve in her voice making it lower, gravelly.

  My eyes flash to hers, taking in the sincerity there, the truth. “You guys are separating?”

  Finally. They’ve been at each other’s throats for a decade now, and Kathy doesn’t deserve it. She’s a nice woman.

  “He wants to sell
the whole thing and buy me out instead of letting me buy out his half of the business,” she tells me. “Believe it or not, we didn’t have a prenup, so I’m entitled to it. He’d rather have a complete stranger run this place rather than me.”

  Kathy is probably ten years younger than my dad. She’s sturdy and fit, and she works harder than anyone else I know. I’m sure she’s running this place right alongside Declan.

  “He didn’t even tell you,” she continues, her jaw set square and firm. “This place is your birthright—as much as your brother’s. And he didn’t even tell you he was gonna sell it.”

  She’s right. And it’s yet another stab in the back inflicted by my own father. “Where is he now?”

  “He’s at Dec’s. They’re drawing up the listing with the realtor.”

  “He’s selling the business, or he’s selling the land, house, and barn?”

  “The business is over, Shay. He says no one wants it. He wants to donate the carriages to the historical society and sell the horses and other livestock. Or maybe the new owner will want them.”

  “That’s not true—people love these stupid carriages!” I think about Return Day and all the weddings we’ve chauffeured brides and grooms from the church to the reception. I think about how little kids’ faces will light up at the carnival when they see the horses.

  “I’m well aware. He’s an asshole; we both know that. But I think you should have a chance to buy him out so we can run this place together.”

  So now the truth of why I’m here finally comes out.

  My spine tingles with a weird vision of me running Kelly Carriage Company with a wife by my side and some kids running around. And when I try to get a closer look at that wife, she looks like Megan.

  That image scares me. It scares the hell out of me.

  Yet I also wonder what if…?

  “What do you think?” She stares at me and pats my hand again. “I know you just started the EMT thing, so I can run it alone for a while; that’s no problem. My kids might be willing to help out too on the weekends. That’s when most of our business is. The rest of the time it’s just feeding the animals and taking care of the property. I’ve already been doing all that. Declan only handles the business side of things.”