Look Always Forward (Bellingwood Book 11)

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Look Always Forward (Bellingwood Book 11) Page 12

by Diane Greenwood Muir


  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Henry and Polly walked into the Alehouse and saw Joss and Nate already there. Rebecca was spending the night with Kayla since they were heading out early the next morning to go shopping with Stephanie.

  The two young girls were very excited to babysit the twins and Stephanie agreed to supervise the entire affair at the Mikkels' house. Joss bribed her with pizza for the girls and the dinner of her choice from Davey's - as well as an iPad with headphones so she could watch a movie and shut out the insanity.

  Kayla and Rebecca were responsible, but even they didn't feel comfortable taking on full responsibility of the two very active one year olds.

  "Does it feel good to get out and about?" Polly asked with a smile.

  "You have no idea," Joss replied. She pulled the chair out beside her and patted the seat. "I have plenty of adult interaction, but it's never enough. It's good to see you guys."

  Nate stood up until Polly was seated and she smiled at him. "You and Henry are real throw-backs, you know," she said.

  He creased his brow. "What do you mean?"

  "You stand up for a woman, you open doors. The other day I had a conversation with Henry about why he always walks on the outside of the sidewalk. All of this chivalry. I don't know what to do with it." She winked at Joss. "Kind of conflicts with the whole strong, independent woman thing."

  "Chivalry was never about removing a woman's independence," Nate said. "It was always about treating her with respect. And chivalry is more than just how a man treats a woman. It's a life of honor and courage, being courteous to everyone, helping those in need or who are weak, and standing on the side of justice."

  Joss flipped her head toward him. "Wow. Where did you get that? It's deep!"

  He chuckled. "Let's just say that I'm more than just a gear head. I might have been a paladin once or twice in the past."

  "Oh," she said. "Those nights."

  "What nights?" Polly asked, leaning in.

  Joss patted her husband's hand. "Those Dungeons and Dragons role-playing game nights and weekends."

  "You did that?" Henry asked. "My buddies weren't into it."

  "I started playing in junior high. We were those kids who spent time in the basement with classical Russian music in the background while we ate ding dongs, drank Mountain Dew and painted pewter figures. We played through high school and then I found friends in college who played, too. By then, though, we changed out the Dew for beer and the ding dongs for cheap pizza and Doritos." He patted his tummy. "I worked hard for this."

  "I wonder if Grey played Dungeons and Dragons," Polly mused out loud.

  "Who?" Nate asked.

  "The man who was in the accident last Monday," she responded. "He's working out at the inn right now. I keep thinking of him like Don Quixote. He speaks differently than we do and he's all about chivalry. But your description of the word fits him to a tee. I could see him as a paladin or knight. And I don't think he's as feckless as Cervantes's character was. He can handle himself."

  The waiter interrupted them and Polly jumped to open her menu.

  "Anything to drink first?" he asked.

  "Ummm. I don't know." She turned to Henry. "What are you having?"

  "A Guinness," he said.

  "Do I want that?"

  He laughed. "I don't think so. You aren't much of a beer drinker."

  "I'm not much of an anything drinker," she said and turned to the waiter. "What do I want?"

  "What do you like?"

  She shook her head. "I have no idea."

  "Tomato juice?" he asked.

  "Sure."

  "Have you ever had a Bloody Mary?"

  Polly looked at Henry, who shrugged.

  "Try our Bloody Mary," the waiter said. "If you hate it, we'll talk. But I think you'll like it."

  "Cool. Thanks."

  Joss and Nate already had drinks. Polly grinned across the table. "Look at me, I'm growing up! It's a real adult drink."

  Nate laughed. "For someone who has done so many things, there is still a lot of you that hasn't seen the world."

  "No kidding," Polly responded. "Now what's good?"

  They ordered a platter of appetizers and burgers. Polly ordered the Bourbon burger.

  "You're my little alky," Henry said. "I'm so proud. All of this branching out you're doing."

  "It was just easier ordering a glass of wine," Polly said. "And people always served that at weddings and in their homes. I didn't have to think about it."

  Joss shook her head. "That's so odd. I was so intimidated by the wine selections that I avoided them. It wasn't until Nate and I were married that I started understanding how to choose one to drink. We went on a winery tour in Napa Valley and I did my best to absorb the information."

  "You absorbed more than that," Nate said, poking her in the side. "You started really drinking that afternoon."

  "I found what I liked," she said with a laugh. "It got fun."

  "I poured her into bed that night and didn't see her eyes until the next afternoon." He turned to Henry. "What does your weekend look like?"

  "Why?" Henry asked.

  "Joss is spending a week with her mother and taking the kids."

  "What?" Polly demanded. "You didn't tell me you were leaving town."

  "I didn't know until today. Mom called this morning. Dad has a meeting in Chicago all week. She's riding with him. I'll meet them and she'll ride back with me and the kids. We'll do the same thing next Friday going the other way."

  "Have you taken the kids on a long trip yet?" Polly asked.

  "Not by myself," Joss said with a groan. "But I've loaded the tablet with their favorite movies and it's only a five hour drive. After that, Mom gets to entertain the little buggers."

  Polly couldn't stand it. "Shouldn't you be home packing? What are you doing out this evening with us? I'd be going crazy trying to prepare for a week-long trip with no notice."

  "I spent today packing," Joss said with a laugh. "It's no big deal."

  "Oh yeah," Polly said. "You're that person. You worry about your house being a mess when one thing is out of place."

  "I'm not that bad."

  "Yes you are." Polly reached out and gave her a hug. "And I love you in spite of yourself. What about the library?"

  "Andy's managing everything. It's the week before school, so we're usually slow. I'll be back before the kids start coming in every day after school again."

  "So," Henry said, punching Nate's arm. "You're gonna be a bachelor. Does this mean time in the shop?"

  "That's exactly what it means. Do you wanna come build cars with me?"

  Henry looked at Polly and she shrugged. "I don't care what you do. Have fun. Rebecca and I will keep ourselves busy."

  "I was thinking," Henry said to Nate. He bent in close and started drawing on a napkin.

  Polly tuned him out and smiled at Joss. "I don't even want to know."

  "Nate insists that his kids will have an appreciation for cars. He says that no child of his will grow up not knowing the joy of grease under their fingernails. I believe he wants to prepare Soph to take Danica Patrick's place."

  Polly wrinkled her forehead and then chuckled. "The race driver?"

  "Yep. He thinks it would be great fun if the kids ended up racing each other in the Nascar Sprint Cup in about twenty-five years." Joss looked at her husband. He glanced up at them and nodded approvingly.

  "I wish I knew more about cars," Polly said in a whisper. "But I can't say that too loud or Henry will make me help him change the oil. I don't want to get greasy, I just wish I'd paid more attention so I understood things."

  "That's why I married pretty boy over there," Joss said with a laugh. "He knows that if he didn't take care of our vehicles, I'd drop them off at a garage. When he makes me mad, I've been known to threaten to make a call and schedule an appointment."

  "You're so tough," Polly said. "Like you'd ever do that."

  Joss pushed Polly's arm. "Hush. Don't let on."
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  Polly watched Joss's eyes try to focus on the other end of the room. "What are you looking at?" Polly asked.

  "Who is that?" Joss turned Polly to see and pointed over her shoulder. "He looks messed up."

  "Crap," Polly said. "Henry? Look."

  He looked up from his conversation with Nate. "What?"

  "Down there," she tilted her head in the direction she wanted him to look.

  "Okay. What do you want me to do about it?"

  "Who is it?" Joss asked again.

  "It's Grey Greyson. The guy in the accident last week. Jeff hired him to manage the hotel. I can't believe he's in here drunk as a skunk," Polly said.

  Henry put his hand on her arm. "Leave it alone, Polly. Who knows what he's got going on."

  "How's he supposed to manage the hotel if he's in here drunk?" she asked, shrugging his hand off. "I'm going to talk to him."

  "Polly, no," Henry said, putting his hand back. "He's not hurting anybody."

  "Look. I'm all for giving a person a hand, but the first week on a job and you're drinking to get drunk? That's not right."

  She stood up and started across the room. Polly wasn't surprised to feel Henry at her side, his hand on her back.

  "Ask questions before you blow up," he said.

  "I'll be good. I promise." She slid onto a stool beside Alistair and said, "Hi there. I didn't expect to see you up here tonight."

  He looked at her, recognition slowly coming to him. "Ms. Giller." He put his hand out to shake hers. She ignored it. "And your good husband, Mr. Sturtz. I didn't expect to see you here either." He wobbled on the stool and slurred his words. "The hotel is buttoned up tight. I promise I didn't leave anything undone."

  Polly pointed up at the clock on the wall. "It's only seven o'clock. You're confident there won't be any more customers tonight?"

  He dropped his head. "I left my phone number on the front door."

  "You're really drunk, Grey," Polly said.

  "No I'm not. It isn't as bad as it sounds."

  "How many have you had? And what are you drinking."

  "Just a couple of scotches."

  Polly glanced at the bartender. "How many has he had?"

  "Five or six, but he doesn't have a car, so I'm not worried."

  "Have you had anything to eat, Grey?" she asked.

  He shook his head. "I'll eat at home. It's a lonely little home there. Nobody to talk to. Nights are the hardest." He rubbed his temple. "It's when my demons come up out of their graves to torture me."

  "Henry, take him to our table and feed him a burger, would you?" She put her hand on Grey's shoulder. "We'll take you home tonight."

  "I'm sorry, Ms. Giller. This isn't what I would like you to know about me."

  "Go ahead," she said.

  Polly waited until the two men had gone several feet and turned to the bartender. "Has he been in often?"

  "Every night this week. Last night, Bud took him home. He was pretty wasted."

  She pulled a business card out of her telephone case and put it on the bar. "Call me if he needs a ride again, okay?"

  "Really?"

  "Yes, really." Polly slid off the stool and slowly walked toward the table. Grey had taken her place and both Joss and Henry were forcing food on him. She took out her phone and swiped a call.

  "Hello there," Jeff said. "It's Friday night. I'm still at Sycamore House. What's up?"

  "We need to talk."

  "About what?"

  "About Grey. I'm at the Alehouse and he's here, drunk. The bartender says he's been in every night."

  "Damn it. Do you want me to fire him?"

  "Not yet. I did when I first saw him, but I have to think this isn't who he really is. Can he fix this?"

  She heard Jeff take a deep breath. "I don't know, Polly. If he's an alcoholic..." He paused. "I just don't know."

  "We're feeding him and we'll take him back to the hotel tonight. I don't know what to do." Polly sat down at an empty table. She waved at Henry and leaned on the hand with the phone in it.

  "He and I agreed that this could end within the month. If it's over the first week, I guess that's it," Jeff said.

  Polly sighed. "Grey's a good guy. I don't want to throw him away, but I don't have any experience with alcoholism."

  "You won't be able to talk to him tonight," Jeff said. "He'll say anything when he's drunk. The conversation needs to happen tomorrow, when he's sober."

  "Will he even remember that I was here tonight? Will he admit that there's a problem?"

  "I don't know that either," he said. "You need to tell me how far you want to go to be part of his life."

  "He's worth it," Polly said.

  "You've known him less than a week."

  "He's worth it," she said, this time more firmly. "I'm confident. I have the same feeling about him that I did with Eliseo and with Sylvie. Whatever has brought him to this point needs to be put behind him. From here on out, he needs to know that we're part of his life."

  "Are you sure?"

  "No," she said weakly. "But I'm almost sure."

  "Then I'll wake him up bright and early tomorrow morning and we'll see what he says. Do you want to be there?"

  "Unless you want me there, I'll let you take care of it," Polly said. "He said that nights were his worst time. If he can't deal with being alone at night, we'll have to work something else out, though."

  "I'll talk to him. And you and Henry can get him home tonight?"

  "Yeah. We can do that," she said with a laugh. "My hero helps me take care of everybody."

  "Now, there's a good guy."

  "Thanks Jeff. I'll see you tomorrow."

  "Don't worry. We'll deal with this," he said.

  "Thanks." Polly ended the call and sat at the table, watching her husband and friends with Grey. Joss and Nate were working to keep up the conversation and Henry kept looking her way, worry in his eyes. She gave him a weak smile. He trusted her no matter what. Even in the midst of things like this, he stood beside her. Polly's eyes burned with tears. She was so lucky. He'd argue with her later tonight about keeping Grey on at Sycamore Inn, but he'd also listen and in the end, trust her with whatever decision she and Jeff made.

  The moment she stood up, Henry stood and took a chair from the empty table next to theirs.

  "We ordered another hamburger for you," he said. "Here, have a bite of mine."

  "I apologize profusely for my behavior," Alistair said, attempting to stand up.

  Polly put her hand on his shoulder, telling him to stay seated. "We'll deal with that tomorrow," she said. "Tonight let's finish dinner and get you safely home."

  She sat down between Grey and Henry just as the waiter slid another plate in front of her. Polly looked up at him and smiled a thank you, then handed him the Bloody Mary and asked for a glass of water. Henry had made sure that Grey had water and that it was kept full.

  "You've met our friends, Joss and Nate?" she said.

  "A purveyor of healing balms," he replied. "Do you know that the inventor of Pepsi-Cola was a pharmacist? And so was the man who first made Dr Pepper. They originally were thought to help with digestion or even to give people pep." He looked at the water in front of him. "Soda pop might have been a better choice for me this evening. I apologize," he said to Polly.

  Nate spoke up. "There have been many famous people who were apothecaries in their time. Even Dante was educated as a pharmacist so that he could become a politician."

  Polly chuckled and took another bite of her hamburger.

  "What are you laughing at?" Nate asked.

  "You never cease to amaze me," she said.

  "Why?"

  "Tonight I've learned about paladins and chivalry and now I've learned about Pepsi, Dr Pepper and Dante. It's never boring with you, is it?" She looked at Joss.

  "Never boring," Joss said. "I have no idea where he gets all of this information, but I do know that whatever he learns, he never loses."

  "A wonderful trait, to be sure,"
Grey commented. He pushed his plate back an inch. "I can find my own way home."

  Polly stopped him. "No, please. Let us take you home this evening. Sit with us for just a little longer. Joss? Nate? Is that okay?"

  "It's fine," Joss said, smiling across the table at Polly. "You're fine."

  "Thanks," Polly mouthed back.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Early the next morning, Polly rolled over and snuggled into Obiwan. Rebecca was with Kayla and Henry was already gone. He and Nate planned to forage through Ames and Des Moines for parts they needed for the Woodies they were rebuilding.

  After dinner, she and Henry had taken Alistair back to the hotel and driven over to the Mikkels' house. Nate and Henry wanted to look online for the parts they needed. Polly knew she probably wouldn't see much of him for a few days. He didn't take time for his personal projects and he had so much fun with Nate that she was glad he was doing this.

  He'd let the dogs out before he left this morning, kissed her goodbye, and told her to sleep in. She wondered how long she'd managed to stay in bed.

  Checking her phone for the time, she sighed. "Eight fifteen," she said. "I might as well give up. Sleeping in isn't for me."

  Obiwan licked her arm, but when Han heard her voice, he placed his front paws on her side and tried to lick her face.

  "Back off, you slobbery thing," she said. His entire body wagged. "I know, I know. You're happy to have your human alive and alert." Polly sat up and he scrabbled into her lap. She hugged his neck and kissed the top of his head before moving everyone to the side so she could get out of bed.

  Polly wandered through the living room and into the kitchen, being careful of the two cats who insisted on either stretching out directly in her path or weaving around her feet as she walked. "Death of me," she said. "You're going to be the death of me."

  Henry had left a full pot of coffee and she sighed as she poured a cup out and breathed in the scent. She stood in front of the kitchen window and looked out at her little town. Two people were pulling weeds in the corner garden. The man looked up and she realized it was Sam Gardner. She and Henry needed to invite them over for dinner one of these evenings. Jean had taken a liking to Rebecca, inviting her to their home a couple of times. The first time Polly had gone with her. But within minutes, Jean made the girl feel at home in her kitchen and soon the two were chattering as they made a strawberry pie. Rebecca helped Jean with canning, putting up everything from beans and tomatoes to dill pickles and raspberry jam.

 

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