by Cindy Miles
I felt tears gather in my eyes, and I angrily brushed them away. “When?”
“When your father returns next week. And Memory? Bring him with you. He deserves nothing less. He’s your biggest champion.”
I sighed, and my eyes focused on the light reaching over the tops of the trees like long golden fingers. My dad’s face flashed before me, and I knew Dr. Cates was right. “All right,” I said quietly. “I’ll come in.”
“I’ll have Haylie schedule your scan for Thursday at four. Can you get out of class and here by then?”
My mind ran through my schedule. “Yes, sir.”
“Okay, kiddo. Hang in there,” Dr. Cates said. “I’m in this fight with you. Got it?”
A smile touched my lips, despite how drained my heart felt. Dr. Cates was a remarkable and caring man. “Got it.”
“I’ll see you next Thursday.”
We ended the call, and I could do nothing but sit where I was and stare out across the field and paddock as the sun’s rays eased over the winter-dead grass. Captain Gregg trotted up the steps. I’d let him out earlier, and he’d gone off on his daily exploration. But he sensed something was wrong. I would swear the dog was really a human. He eased beside me and laid his head on my knee.
“I know, boy,” I said, rubbing his soft ears. “I’m trying here, yeah?” I let the last tears fall, swiped them from my cheeks, and stood. I inhaled. Exhaled. Got mad. I hopped down from the porch, leaping over two steps to land on the ground.
“Fuck this,” I said, and anger boiled inside of me. “Fuck tears, and…fuck this!” I strode to the workshop, Captain Gregg keeping with my fast pace, and poured every ounce of pain, fright, and fear into my work.
I had a handful of days before Dad came home.
I wasn’t about to spend them wallowing in self-pity. Or goddamn fear.
By the time Claire and the others pulled down the lane I’d knocked out more than half of the windcatcher’s brazed parts. Once I heard Crisco’s truck—with the loud duel exhaust—I turned the gas tanks off and shut everything down, flipped the lights, and started toward the house.
I’d feverishly worked the anger and fear right out of me.
So when my friends came flying down the lane, hanging out of the windows and hollering playful obscenities, I was ready for them. Ready for a laugh. Ready to bury the fear until I had to face it again next week.
“Hey!” I yelled back, and started jogging toward them. Crisco swung out of his truck, bent over and caught me at the waist, slinging my big self over his lanky shoulders. “Crisco!” I laughed.
“Oh my sweet lord, girl!” Crisco yelled and pretended he was choking. I smacked him on the backside. “Yeow!”
“Hey, Mem,” Sugar said, grinning. “Sweet duds.”
“Did you just say the word duds?” Bentley teased.
“Okay, you immature juveniles,” Claire stated, prancing before us and jogging up the porch steps. “Memory, what’s for lunch?”
I glanced at her as I hung over Crisco’s shoulders. “Chicken salad and chips.”
“Oh my god, I’m starved,” Brie stated.
“What’s new?” Conner added, and he winked at me.
We all piled into the kitchen, and Claire went straight for the fridge. “What is this?” she asked, pulling out the covered dish Jace had left the night before. She looked at me.
A sly smile lifted my lips. “Well,” I said, heading to the pantry to retrieve the bag of BBQ chips. “Someone made supper for me last night.”
Claire set it back in the fridge, closed the door, and turned to me. “Spill the beans, girl.” Her eyes widened. “Oh. It was Jace Beaumont!”
Crisco gave me a shove. “Jace Beaumont, Jace Shmeaumont.”
“Can I have some of it?” Conner said, opening the fridge. “It looks pretty damn good.”
“It was good and it’s all for me,” I stated. “Grab that big bowl of chicken salad and stop being so jealous.” I threw them all a coy smile. “He made it.”
“Shut up!” Sugar exclaimed.
“We’re…just friends though,” I added. “He insisted.”
“Is he gay?” Bentley asked.
Brie threw an apple at him, which thankfully, he caught. “Just because a guy can cook and doesn’t want to jump Memory’s bones doesn’t mean he’s gay, freak.” She looked at me. “I think it’s super sexy. And super coy. He wants you. I can tell.”
“I can cook,” Crisco added. He looked around at all of us. Nodding.
We all burst out laughing.
We set the preparation of lunch into motion and, like a well-oiled machine, we all claimed a job until the table was set with paper plates, napkins, sandwiches, and drinks. We sat, laughing, passing the bag of chips around and eating, and ribbing each other. My best pals for four years. And as I listened and watched, my heart sank, and I had to fight to keep the tell-tale signs of how much I already missed them from my expression.
“Rucker’s tonight, Mem Thibs,” Bentley announced. “And don’t be lame.”
“I am never lame,” I retorted with a mock frown. “I’ll be there.”
“Hey, is it your turn already to be the double deuce?” Brie asked with an innocent face.
“Me?” I replied. “I just was the double deuce last weekend!” I gave a sly grin. “But since I like to be in total control, I’ll do it again. Losers. Be here at eight, girls. Fellas, you’re on your own.”
“Yes!” Sugar exclaimed. “First round’s on me, suckas!”
By the time the girls pulled up at the house, I’d banished my fears, purged my sorrows, and had decided it was a waste of life to worry about either. I was twenty-two, not too shabby looking, and I wanted to have fun. Despite the winter’s chill, this was still Texas after all, and I’d pulled out a relatively short floral gauzy skirt that showed off a minimum of say, eighty percent of my legs. Paired with a black ribbed tank and a vintage denim vest, and my beloved pair of Old Gringo’s that I’d saved for and purchased years ago, I was ready for some Rucker’s with friends. I’d straightened my hair, pulling my long bangs back in a clip. A few strands had escaped and lay wispy around my face. I never wore too much makeup because my eyes were so large, it almost made them look overly gawdy. So I’d spiked my lashes with some mascara, added some lip gloss, and was done.
“You slut,” Sugar said grinning as she bound up the porch. She had on a pair of tight dark jeans that showed off her shapely legs, and a snug lavender sweater. Her long hair hung loose and wavy. “Love the vintage vest.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Wow, did your boobs grow some more, Sugar Booger? They’re huge!”
We all laughed and Claire, dressed in a long-sleeved geometric shaped mini dress and tall black boots, pushed her little pixie hair behind her ear. “Both of you have enormous knockers!” She smoothed the front of her dress down. “I must’ve been at the end of that line.”
“Shotgun!” Brie yelled out. “Let’s go, huh? Stop fondling each other.”
I grinned and grabbed my bag and keys and Brie, wearing black leggings, tall brown boots and a creamy vintage lacy top, jumped in the front seat beside me. Her signature messy hippy hair was pulled into a floppy bun. “Buckle up, sassy,” I said. And off we went. I’d even put the doors back on my Jeep, just for them.
It took us not quite ten minutes to pull into Rucker’s parking lot, and to our surprise, it was packed. I pushed the gear into neutral, killed the engine, and yanked the emergency brake. “When did Rucker’s become so pop?” I asked.
“Hell if I know,” Brie said. “Come on, the guys are already here.”
Rucker’s was absolutely booming as we all walked single file into the dim interior. The moment my ears registered the song playing, I turned and squealed at the same time Claire did. We didn’t wait for anyone or anything. Queen was rockin’ and so were we. We half-walked, half-danced our way through, hands in the air, as we all sang along to “Killer Queen.” I noticed a rather large crowd in the back, but didn�
��t really take much notice. Probably someone figured Rucker’s was just as good a place as any for a get-together. I hoped it didn’t become habit, though.
Rucker’s was our place.
Crisco rose above the crowd, waving his lanky arm, and we all shimmied and squealed our way to the table they’d claimed. “Did you ask them to play that?” I asked Crisco.
“Not me,” he leaned close and said. Then he moved around to Sugar and claimed the chair next to her. “We’re waiting on our first round, darlin’!”
Sugar flagged a waiter and placed an order of tequila shots around the table—except for me. “She’s the double deuce!” Sugar exclaimed. “Bring her a pop!”
We laughed and talked, and when Rucker’s—known for its vintage authenticity, including music—started playing “I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing,” several couples moved to the center of the room and started dancing. That’s when I noticed Claire, Bentley and Brie looking past me. Rather, behind me. Claire’s mouth dropped open. Brie just smiled. Bentley wiggled his dark brows and gave me a nod, and when I looked over my shoulder, my heart dropped. Jace’s gaze was locked onto mine, and he held out his hand. He said nothing; his eyes, though, sparkled beneath the low lights, and his mouth tipped up crooked on one side, and he inclined his head toward the dance floor.
“What are you smiling so big for?” he asked.
I couldn’t take my eyes off his. “I swear I don’t know,” I answered. “My face has a mind of its own lately.”
Again, he inclined his head.
I let him lead the way, and when we wedged into the small crowd on the dance floor, his eyes moved over me. “You look nice,” he said, his mouth still curving. His hand eased to the small of my back and, despite it being a modest move, I still felt a chill when he did it.
“Thanks,” I answered, placing my hand on his shoulder. We moved to the song, and I was surprised that his steps were easy, light. “You move nice,” I offered.
He shrugged, but was still grinning. “I practiced a lot as a teenager.” He turned me then, and we moved together easily, effortlessly, and he smelled so damn good. “I saw you come in,” Jace said close to my ear. “You really like Queen, don’t you?”
I smiled up at him, our faces close, and I noticed how soft his eyes had gone. “Almost as much as I like Aerosmith,” I answered. Then I cocked my head. “Are we still…friends?”
Jace Beaumont swung me around, his legs pressed against mine, his hand holding my body close. His eyes, though—those smoky, expressive sage eyes grew liquid in the soft light of the bar. “About that,” he said.
And again, I shivered.
Jace simply smiled. Then he dipped me, old-fashioned style, and with our faces close, he held in a laugh. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”
And right then, I knew I was in trouble.
“Hey bro, you got an affliction or somethin’?”
Jace and I both turned to find that Brax and Olivia had joined us on the floor, and Brax’s harsh features looked even harsher in the shadowy light of Rucker’s. But he grinned. “You know, hangin’ upside down like that?”
Just then, someone slammed into us, and Jace steadied me to keep me from falling. When we righted, a face I recognized was there. Drunk as hell and even more obnoxious.
“Memory likes to dance a certain way,” Kirby Porter said as he pushed between Jace and I and gave me a drunken smirk. His eyes were glazed as he tried to focus in the low light of Rucker’s. “Don’t ya, Thibs—”
Kirby was no longer there. Jace had grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him out of the way. Which was, in fact, extremely curious to me. Jace was…standing up for me? Yeah, Crisco and Bentley and Conner had stood up for me in the past, but I’d never had a date defend my honor before. Usually, I just blew off the rudeness. Or went all Ragin’ Cajun on them. This was different. I liked it.
“What the fuck, dude,” Kirby growled, and pushed back between us. And just as he got there, Jace calmly turned and crowded him. Chest to chest, only Jace had about two inches and twenty pounds on Kirby.
“Don’t,” Jace warned in a low, even voice. He didn’t touch Kirby. Didn’t have to. Jace’s dark expression, the pull of his brows, the flexing muscles of his jaw, spoke volumes. It was…impressive. It was surprising. It was…extremely Sexy As All Hell.
“Who the fuck do you think you are, man?” Kirby grumbled. Man, he was drunker than drunk. Otherwise, the sober Kirby would’ve never challenged Jace.
Somehow, I believed Jace knew that.
Jace’s face grew darker. “Just leave,” he warned.
Kirby laughed. “Or what?” He grabbed for me, but Jace clamped his hand on Kirby’s arm.
Jace stared down at Kirby. “You won’t get up, man. “
Several people had stopped to watch the exchange, and Kirby, even in his drunken stupidity, realized it. Also probably realized he’d find himself flat on his ass.
Kirby glared and slung his arm in drunken anger. “Fuck this shit,” he muttered, and left.
It had happened so fast I was still staring at Kirby’s back when Jace turned around. “You okay?” he asked me, and I nodded.
“Wicked control, bro,” Brax said. “I almost popped him one myself.”
“I’m surprised Mem didn’t pop him one,” Crisco said, suddenly beside us with Sugar. “Was that—”
Sugar’s elbow in his ribs hushed him up. I almost laughed. Yeah, I’d gone out with Kirby a couple of times. Sober, he wasn’t quite as much of a douche.
Olivia just sighed and rolled her eyes. Then she settled her gaze on me, and her face softened. “Is the testosterone in here taking over or what?” She smiled.
“Just a little,” I admitted, and then Jace’s hand was at the small of my back, guiding me away from the chaos of the dance floor and back to Claire and the others.
“See ya later?” he asked me, close to my ear.
“Come by if you like,” I offered. “I’m the double-D tonight, so I have to keep an eye on these guys, and they’ll probably crash at my house.”
Jace inclined his head to where Olivia and Brax and the others were gathered. “Birthday celebration,” he informed. “Brax’s first baseman.”
“Ah,” I nodded, then cocked my head and grinned. “Look at us. Both with a load of responsibilities tonight, yeah?”
A slow grin lifted the corners of Jace’s mouth, and his eyes danced. “I’ll see ya later, then.”
“Yeah you will,” I added, and watched him weave his way through the crowd, back to the birthday gathering. Then I turned back to my own group.
They were all staring at me. Even the guys.
“Holy shit,” Brie said, fanning herself. “Holy shit.”
“I’ll see you later,” Bentley said jokingly, and began to dance around each of us. “Yeah you will,” he said in a higher voice, mimicking me.
I wacked Bentley on the back of the head. “Don’t be a hater. Be an appreciator!”
“Another round!” Brie hollered and, like magic, a waiter appeared. “Tequi shots, my good man! All but for her!” She pointed her finger at me, “and him!” She pointed at Conner. “Double Deuces!”
We stayed for another hour or so, and it was fun. Interestingly enough, it took my mind off more serious matters. But I couldn’t help letting my gaze slide over to the back of Rucker’s, where I kept finding Jace Beaumont. We caught each other’s eye more than once, and it felt like we shared a secret, and we’d both start grinning like idiots.
It was fun, too, catching him off guard. Watching him laugh, play around with his sister. Yeah, he totally loved her, you could tell. I’d always missed that, I supposed. Having a sibling. But after my mom died, I guess my dad just wasn’t interested in anything except making a good life for me. That included putting aside the desire of finding another wife, I supposed. And although he’d never admitted it, I always believed Dad finally moved us away from Lafayette to escape the memories of losing her. The nights following her death wer
e tough on me, but seriously tough on my dad. To have someone you loved snatched away so abruptly? It wasn’t like losing a slow battle to cancer or some other disease. It was Exit: Left. Finale. No chance of hope, no fight to win the battle. It was just…over. My dad’s sobs, late at night after we’d both gone to bed, haunted me then. Still did. If I closed my eyes and thought about it, I could still hear them perfectly in my head. Yeah, Dr. Cates was right. Max Thibodeaux was my biggest champion. Always would be.
Dad had sacrificed his life for me. How did you ever repay someone for that?
“Yoohoo, Earth to Memory,” Claire said rather loudly, trying to snap her fingers but totally missing the snap. She tried a few more times then gave up. I almost snorted my soda laughing at her. “Mem, let’s go.”
“Holy God, Peeshwank is stone-cold shit-faced,” Bentley said. He’d been drinking, too, but not as much as the girls. He pulled out his cell. “Here, Claire—say cheese!”
Claire leaned in to take a selfie with Bentley and almost fell off her stool. But the look on their faces was priceless: Claire with her eyes crossed and tongue out, and Bentley licking her face.
“Jesus, what are you, a St. Bernard?” she said, shoving him.
“Mem,” Bentley said, and grabbed me by the wrist. “We all need to squeeze into one.” He looked at me. “Our last year here.”
Sugar and Crisco looked up when he said that, and we all kind of shared glances. Then Crisco hollered, “Dog pile!” And we all crunched together while Bentley, whose arms were undoubtedly the longest human arms I’d ever seen, took the pic. My gaze moved over my friends, and my heart seized. This was it. Soon, we wouldn’t be here, gathering at Rucker’s. We wouldn’t be gathering for lunch in the quad. And we just wouldn’t…be. College would be over, and we’d all head off to start our adult lives.
Hopefully, all of us would.
Just as Bentley took the pic, I glanced over and saw Jace watching us. His gaze met mine, and we shared another smile, and I knew I couldn’t wait to see him again.