yolo

by Sam Jones

  “I do have one question, though,” Buck said from his place at the side of the room, where he was leaning against a wall. “There were lots of opportunities for you to stop along the way. And lots of moments where you made the choice that put you on this crazy path.” He rubbed his chin and straightened his glasses.

  “Just . . . in-the-moment decisions,” Emily said slowly, not sure how else to answer.

  Buck’s eyes narrowed, and a smirk crossed his face. “Maybe,” he said. “But I think there’s more than that going on here. Don’t you, Blanche?” Blanche laughed. “Oh, c’mon, Buck. It’s written across her face plain as day. All three of ’em got bit bad.”

  “Bit?” asked Ana.

  “By the crime-spree bug!” boomed Buck. “C’mon now. Didn’t you all feel the thrill of your hearts pounding just a bit when you were pulling the wool over Stanley?”

  “Stanley?” asked Brandon.

  “Oh, hell, did you really think his name was Big Dog?” Blanche cackled. “That small-time asshole has been trying to build an empire since back when Buck and I were in the capering business.”

  “Wait,” said Emily. “You two were . . . ?”

  “Criminals?” asked Buck. “Yessiree, Bob. And good ones too. None of this small-time crap that Chestnut goes in for. Trained him better than that.”

  “Trained him?” asked Brandon. “You mean you showed him how to rob people?”

  “Nah—not people. Banks. After closing time.” Blanche beamed with pride. “We cracked safes.”

  “No guns, no drugs,” said Buck.

  “And certainly no diners in broad daylight,” sighed Blanche. “That boy’s gonna have to spend a decade in federal prison before he learns his lesson.”

  “Should just lock ’em both in the basement,” roared Buck. “Least that way they’d be easier to visit.”

  “So you only robbed banks?” asked Ana.

  “Yep. Federally insured money. Victimless crime,” said Blanche. “Course that’s all over now.”

  “How come?” asked Brandon.

  “Well, mainly because we decided to quit while we were ahead,” said Buck. “But also ’cause technology has made it impossible. It’s a rare bank vault that still has an old-fashioned combo lock.”

  “And the cameras,” Blanche moaned. “Might as well be Hollywood. They’ve got those buildings wired six ways to Sunday now.”

  “But it was fun while it lasted,” said Buck.

  “And lucrative,” said Blanche.

  “And not half as dangerous as it is now.” Buck nudged the suitcase full of cash with his foot. “So what’s your plan here? What’s the next move?”

  Emily shrugged. “Well, since Artie was involved and Big Dog—Stanley, I guess?—is sure to have Ruff and Scrappy after us by now, we were hoping to just get the money back to Chestnut so he could deal with it.”

  Ana sighed. Blanche and Buck turned to look at her. Buck started to chortle. “Ah HA! I knew it. There it is.”

  “There’s what?” asked Ana, cautiously.

  “The real reason you went after those drugs,” said Blanche. “I’d recognize it anywhere.”

  “It’s the thrill of giving in to the dark side,” said Buck in a low voice with a big grin.

  “Like in Star Wars?” Artie asked.

  “Sorta,” said Buck. “Only this is real life. And nothing makes you feel more alive than the thought that you might not be soon. Am I right?”

  It was quiet for a moment. Emily stared down at the plate of food and thought about this. Was that really the reason she was in this mess? Just the sheer excitement? The pull of doing something she’d never do otherwise? Is that why she’d suddenly felt compelled to prove that she wasn’t an uptight perfectionist?

  “YOLO,” said Brandon, softly. “That’s why we’re in this mess.”

  “What?” Blanche asked, her mug inches from her mouth.

  “YOLO,” Brandon said again. “It’s an acronym for You Only Live Once.”

  “You’re damned right, son,” said Buck. “And if you want to stay alive—”

  “And outta prison—” Blanche broke in.

  “You gotta be smart about it,” said Buck. “Which, lucky for you, Stanley is not.”

  “I don’t think he has to be very smart to send Ruff and Scrappy after us,” said Emily.

  Buck shook his head. “And do what? Stanley’s not a killer. Neither are these goons he’s got working for him. Last I heard he was trying to hire minor-league baseball players to work as his muscle.”

  “He sure looked like a killer to me,” said Brandon.

  “Got that scar tripping down some stairs into a plate-glass window,” said Blanche. “Only thing he’s ever killed was his own prospects.”

  Emily was suddenly struck with an idea that would allow them to ditch the money and head straight for the party. “Do you think you could give the money to Chestnut and Liz when they come back for Artie?” she asked.

  “Absolutely not.” Buck threw up both hands like she’d pulled a gun on him.

  “We’d never hear the end of that,” Blanche sighed. “The last time we tried to get involved in one of his deals, Liz had a meltdown and blamed us when the whole thing went wrong.”

  “Threatened to keep us from seeing Artie,” said Buck. “That’s a deal breaker for us.”

  Emily smiled. Maybe they had been bad guys once upon a time, and perhaps their parenting skills weren’t so spectacular, but Blanche and Buck sure seemed to have their priorities squared away now. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Shoot,” said Blanche.

  “Why’d you two stop? I mean, even with all the technology and cameras in banks now, there must’ve been something you could’ve kept doing.”

  “That’s the first rule of living outside the system,” said Buck. “Get out while you’re ahead.”

  “We have what we need.” Blanche motioned around her kitchen. “At a certain point, you can’t spend any more money. Besides, every time you set out on a heist, it’s a gamble.” She reached over and ran her hand through Artie’s head. “And some things are just too precious to take a chance on.”

  “So what do we do with this suitcase of cash?” Brandon asked.

  Buck stroked his beard and thought for a second. “I guess if you really want to give it Chestnut, you could head over to Frank’s.”

  “Who’s Frank?” asked Ana.

  “Frank’s not a person,” said Buck. “It’s a pool hall.”

  Blanche explained that it was Liz’s favorite hangout. “She and Chestnut met there.”

  “I thought they met in high school,” said Ana.

  “That’s correct,” said Blanche. “They spent most of high school cutting class and hustling pool. Chestnut won a date with Liz by beating her two outta three.”

  “Think they’ll be there now?” Emily asked.

  “Worth a shot,” said Buck. “That’s usually where they land after their deals get screwed up.” He winked at Emily. “And I think this certainly qualifies in that department.”

  Buck and Blanche walked them out to the car, and Artie gave each of them a hug good-bye and kissed Pickles on the head.

  “Thanks for the coffee and food,” said Emily.

  “And the advice,” said Brandon.

  “Thanks for bringing our boy back,” said Blanche. “I may just brain his father next time I see him.”

  “Should we send them your way if we see them at Frank’s?” Emily asked.

  “Hell no,” roared Buck from the porch with a feisty smile.

  As she pulled out of the driveway, Emily saw Buck reach over and slide his arm around Blanche’s waist. He pulled her close and gave her a big kiss. She melted into him and kicked a high heel up behind her like they were on a TV show. Artie was waving as they slipped out of sight, and Emily realized that Blanche and Buck loved each other just the way they were—no changes necessary. It was probably the secret to their success.

  Suddenly it was lik
e a light bulb had gone off in her head. Buck and Blanche were happy because they had their own values, and they followed them. They didn’t change for anybody, and while they’d gotten where they are through questionable means, they didn’t become different people while doing it. That’s what made them happy.

  Emily knew she just wanted to be happy, with her life and her relationships . . . and maybe that meant staying true to herself and not changing for anyone. Even someone like Kyle.

  But the first step to making her life right and getting back on track was to get to that party.

  chapter 20

  As Emily pulled into the parking lot of Frank’s Billiard Hall, Brandon was still trying to convince her not to stop.

  “This is our worst idea yet,” he said. “We don’t even know if they’ll be here, so we’re just gonna hang out at a pool hall in a strip mall . . . until what? They close?”

  Emily put the car in park and turned off the engine. “Look,” she said, “I still want to get to that party, and this makes some sense as a plan. We’re out of the way of danger, but might still be able to get things back on track.”

  “Anyway, Buck and Blanche suggested it,” Ana said. “And they would know, right?” She snuggled Pickles, who barked his agreement.

  “We don’t have all night,” Brandon whined.

  “We can’t go back to the warehouse,” Emily said. “Big Dog would know by now that we’re not the right people, and he might not be dangerous, but I don’t want to risk it.”

  “And it would take way too long to get back there,” Ana pointed out. “And maybe for nothing. Liz and Chestnut will probably show up here, just like Blanche and Buck said. We can wait until, I don’t know, seven, and if they’re not here, we’ll head out then. We’ll still make it to the Steins’ with enough time to shower, change, and get ready.”

  Brandon signed loudly. “I don’t know why I ever agreed to go with you guys. I should’ve known it’d turn into something. It always turns into something with the two of you. Instead, I could’ve slept in, then headed up with some of the guys. We would’ve played some pool, some X-Box, chilled, partied, whatever. There would be no diner heist, no cocaine, no suitcases of money, no children, and no Chihuahuas.”

  Pickles barked his annoyance.

  “Well, it’s too late to turn back now, Brandon,” Ana said. “And anyway . . . YOLO, right?”

  Brandon looked like he was about to explode, but finally he rubbed his eyes and nodded. “Yeah. YOLO.”

  “If they don’t show up in an hour, we’ll just keep the money,” Ana said. “We tried our best. No harm, no foul. We never even told anyone our names . . . I don’t think.”

  Emily thought back, trying to remember how specific they’d gotten at any moment, but she wasn’t really sure. And she wasn’t sure it even mattered. It sounded like Buck and Blanche weren’t all too concerned about their son and daughter-in-law, who also didn’t sound like the kind of people to track someone down. Big Dog definitely didn’t know who to look for. The only hope would be that Big Dog wouldn’t go after Artie again, but if Buck and Blanche weren’t concerned . . .

  “Let’s just hope they’re here,” Emily said, shaking her head. “Maybe they’ll talk to Buck and Blanche and come here to find us.”

  “Fine.” Brandon opened the car door. “But I’d just like to reserve the right to say ‘I told you so’ if this whole thing goes south.”

  “Duly noted,” said Emily.

  Ana was touching up her eyeliner in the mirror on the passenger-side visor. “I don’t think you’ll have time for that,” she said.

  “What do you mean?” Brandon asked.

  “I mean if the dealers come for you, you won’t have time to say ‘I told you so.’ ”

  “Thanks for that. Really appreciate the vote of confidence.” He jumped out of the car and slammed the door, then stalked into Frank’s.

  Emily joined Ana for a moment touching up her lipstick and dabbing a little powder onto her forehead and nose. “He’s so uptight about this,” she said.

  Ana started laughing. “Look who’s talking, mamacita.”

  Emily smiled. “I’ve turned over a new leaf. Sort of.”

  Ana blotted her fresh lipstick on a tissue and turned to Emily. “How do I look? Damage control?”

  “You’re good,” said Emily. Then she stopped and turned back, staring at her friend. “Oh. My. God.”

  “What?” said Ana.

  “You’re totally going to flirt with Brandon right now, aren’t you?”

  “What? No! I just . . . wanted to—” Ana sputtered and stuttered until Emily shook her head slowly and held up a hand.

  “It’s fine,” she said. “You two have actually been really cute today.”

  “Loca,” Ana muttered under her breath as she shoved her makeup back into her purse. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She jumped out of the car and headed into the pool hall.

  Emily smiled and locked the car, then followed Ana inside. It took a second for her eyes to adjust. The cigarette smoke was thick and hung heavy in the air, and she realized it was a good thing that they’d all come in at different times. Every guy in the place was staring at Ana’s ass as she wiggled in at the bar next to Brandon, who had already ordered and was waiting for his drink, so Emily was able to slip in without being seen.

  She walked down the side of the pool hall opposite the bar. The pool tables were lined up the length of the right side of the place, and the bar ran down the left side. After she made a lap around the pool tables without seeing Liz or Chestnut, she joined Brandon and Ana at the bar.

  Brandon was swigging a Budweiser. “Did you see them?” he asked.

  “Nope,” said Emily. “Did they check your ID?”

  Brandon cocked his head with a smirk. “Cheers,” he said, holding up his beer bottle and taking a big gulp.

  Ana turned around from the bar, holding a Cosmo. “So, what’s the plan now?” she asked.

  “This is no fair!” Emily said. “Why do I always have to be the one who drives?”

  “Oh, you can have just one,” said Ana.

  “No. No, I cannot,” said Emily. “And the plan is that we wait right here and watch the door until seven. Then we are going to the party.”

  Brandon surveyed the pool tables around the room. “I dunno, Em. Looks like we may already be at the party.”

  “No, Brans, we are not.”

  “You know what would be fun?” said Brandon with a sly grin. “Playing a little pool while we wait.”

  “Yes!” Ana jumped off the barstool.

  Emily sighed. “Fine. Go for it. I’m going to get a Coke and sit right here to watch the door. Check in with you in fifteen minutes?”

  “Deal,” Brandon said.

  “Have a real drink,” Ana said. “It’ll help you lighten up.”

  “No dice,” said Emily. “Fifteen minutes. Come back and check in.”

  “Fine,” said Ana.

  “You ready for me to take you to Pool School?” Brandon asked her.

  “You’re not taking me anywhere, white boy.” Ana’s eyes flashed a challenge.

  “Care to make it interesting?” Brandon asked.

  “Bring it,” said Ana. She spun on her heel, flipped her hair, and turned every head in the room as she walked from the bar to an empty pool table.

  “Sounds like you’re the commander in chief.”

  Emily turned to the guy sitting on the barstool to her right and suddenly couldn’t make her mouth work to talk. The guy’s dark hair was cropped close on the sides and longish on top, but not fussy, sort of swept up and messy. His complexion was tanned, like he spent time outside but not at the tanning salon. His eyes were dark, too, and held the spark of a joke—only she’d forgotten what he said now.

  “Excuse me?” she asked, a nervous smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

  “Just sounds like you’re calling the shots with those two,” he said. Then he smiled, and Emily thoug
ht she might fall of her stool. His smile was a little crooked, his jaw chiseled out of stone, and there was a little dent in his chin that she couldn’t stop staring at. She kept imagining running her tongue over it.

  Pull it together, she told herself. He’s talking to you.

  She laughed a little and tried to marshal the power of speech. “Yeah,” she said. “I guess I am.”

  “You don’t sound too enthused about being in charge,” he said. Something about the way he said it surprised Emily. It wasn’t like he was just making small talk with somebody he’d met thirty seconds ago. He actually seemed to care how she felt about this.

  Emily shrugged. “Yeah, it’s . . . been a hard day.”

  He polished off a beer. “I get it,” he said. “What are you drinking?”

  “Nothing yet,” she said. “Diet Coke?”

  He nodded, and Emily was relieved when he didn’t give her a hard time, just waved down the bartender and got her a soda.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “You’re welcome. I’m Chris, by the way.”

  “Emily.” She squeezed the lime into her Diet and took a sip from the straw.

  “So, how’d you get saddled with the being in charge?”

  “We’re on our way to a party,” she explained. “A whole weekend, really. Just drove up today. I guess we just sort of fall into these roles.” Emily braced herself. This is where the cute guy who barely knew her told her to lighten up and have some fun, to let go and live a little.

  Instead, Chris just nodded. “It suits you.”

  An involuntary look of surprise crossed her face. “Really?”

  “Don’t people tell you that?” he asked.

  Emily laughed. “Never. All I hear is how I’m too uptight and need to loosen up.”

  Chris shook his head. “I disagree.”

  “You don’t really know me, though,” Emily said.

  Chris shrugged. “True. But I know me. And I like a woman who knows what she wants and doesn’t need someone else’s approval to get it.”

  When he said those words, Emily had the sensation that a something had broken free inside of her. She smiled at Chris. “That might be the nicest thing a guy has said to me in a long time.”