by M. E. Carter
“You don’t ever seem to call me unless something is wrong. I just assumed.”
I bite my tongue from reminding her that the phone works both ways, but it would inevitably end up with a lecture about being grateful for not being disowned and why I don’t have a right to feel frustrated with the difficulties in my life. I am lying in the bed I made, after all. That’s when I stopped calling to just touch base. I can’t tell her all that, though. She doesn’t understand how toxic she can be and will accuse me of being dramatic.
Instead, I play it safe. “Oh. Well, I guess there sort of is something concerning but I’m fine. Carson is, too, actually. Growing like a weed and finally done with his terrible two’s.”
“Don’t get complacent too quickly. The trying three’s are rapidly approaching.”
He’s actually already three, but I don’t bother telling her she missed his birthday. It’s unlikely she’ll care, and for just this instant, we’re not fighting. We’re just a mom and daughter talking about the trials of parenthood.
And then my mother has to go and ruin the moment before it really even begins.
“Dealing with them all on your own is going to be terribly difficult. But I suppose that’s to be expected when you’re a single mother.”
I bite back the retort I really want to say and opt for something a little tamer. “I may be single, but I’m not alone, Mom. I have an entire group of friends who love me and Carson and support us however they can.”
She sighs dramatically. “It’s not the same, Kiersten. A boy needs a father. You should have thought of that years ago.”
“I did, Mom. But Spence died in a car accident, remember? That wasn’t a choice any of us made.”
“Such a shame that his family is hateful. The poor boy could have two sets of grandparents instead of only one that he doesn’t even see very often anymore.”
This conversation is beginning to piss me off. If I don’t get it back on track, I may lose my cool and hang up. The only person that will hurt is my sister. So, I bite my tongue and rip the proverbial band-aid off.
“Anyway, I called because I’m worried about Nicole.”
“Nicole? Why?” That catches her attention. But Nicole has always been her perfect baby. I don’t begrudge my sister that. She’s never let it go to her head. It’s just a fact. “What’s wrong with your sister?”
I hesitate only for a moment so I don’t chicken out. “Have you met her boyfriend?”
“Jeremy? Of course. She’s been dating him for over a year.”
I shake my head in confusion. “A year? She told me they just started seeing each other.”
Alarm bells go off in my brain. Nicole has been hiding this guy from me for months when I lived just around the corner from her. That tells me she knows in her gut that something is off and is afraid I’ll make her see the truth. Now I’m even more scared for her safety.
“Oh pish,” mom replies. “He spent Easter with us when you were at work. It’s very serious. She even declined a scholarship to that fancy college in New York so they could go to school together and could continue dating.”
She says all this wistfully, like my sister giving up her dreams, giving up a scholarship I didn’t even know she had won, is this great thing. In the meantime, my heart is pounding at this new information. She’s in so much deeper than I thought.
“I think it’s very sweet. One of my babies might get married soon.”
I ignore her dig, much more alarmed by this whole situation. “You know she came to visit me, right? Last weekend?”
“I didn’t find out until after the fact when she finally told me you had invited her, but yes, I know she stayed with you for a couple of days. I also know you made her babysit while she was there to visit.”
I ignore the obvious disapproval, completely unconcerned with her disdain right now. Suddenly, in light of everything happening with my sister, our rocky relationship seems trivial.
“Mom, Nicole had bruises on her arm. They looked like finger marks. And when I asked her about them, she got really defensive and mad at me for questioning her.”
“What did she say they were from?”
“That’s the thing. She came up with this weird excuse that she fell into an odd-shaped exercise machine at the gym. But I swear mom, it looked like someone had wrapped his hand around her bicep and squeezed, or maybe he shook her. I didn’t see the other arm.”
“Kiersten,” she tsks. “If your sister says she fell, then I’m inclined to believe her. I did not raise her to be a liar.”
I tamp down my frustration, trying to get her to understand the severity of the situation. “But mom, have you seen her? She has these really dark circles under her eyes and she was kind of jumpy.”
“You’re worried because she hasn’t been sleeping a lot her first semester away at college? Did you sleep a lot then? No. Because you were out with your friends having a good time on my dime.”
“But—”
“No buts, Kiersten,” she interrupts sternly. “I’ve known Jeremy for a long time. He comes from a lovely family and he’s never been anything but sweet to Nicole. I will not allow you to accuse him of something when you haven’t even met him.”
“I—”
“Now, if that’s all you called for, I need to know what size Carson is so I can buy him some quality clothes for his birthday present.”
“Um, okay.” I’m so stunned by her lack of concern for my sister’s well-being. How can she dismiss the evidence so easily? I can’t even think about clothing sizes at the moment. “Let me double-check all his tags and I’ll let you know what he needs,” I say quietly.
“Perfect.”
Discouraged and disappointed, we say our goodbyes and hang up, and I sit back to think through the conversation.
Did I misread something? Am I blowing the whole situation out of proportion? I know what I saw, but maybe I’m being more dramatic than I thought.
Shaking my head, I push off the couch and head to the small bathroom. There’s not one thing I know of that I can do to help my sister right now. The least I can do is get to work on time so I have a roof she can sleep under when the time comes. Because somehow, I know this isn’t the end of the conversation, no matter what my mother thinks.
NINETEEN
Paul
As the humidity of summer tapers off a bit and the days solidly fall in the warm category versus hot, Kiersten slowly relaxes as well. The weight of the world seems to fall off her shoulders a bit. She’s still worried—that much is clear—but when she mentions her sister finally answering her phone again, the sense of relief is also evident.
I’m glad for her, even though we both know this isn’t over. Not by a long shot. But there’s not a lot anyone can do until her sister is ready to get away from this guy. I think Kiersten is taking the time to prepare for that day. And I’m quietly supporting her, knowing I may have to cover her shifts or give her an advance when it finally comes time.
In the meantime, I can only assume word of mouth in the professional sports community is working because more and more athletes are showing up at the bar. Tammy is delighted to have more “young bucks” as she calls them, to dote on. Dwayne, on the other hand, is beside himself with the endless supply of people to challenge in a game of pool. I’ve never seen him this happy. And he’s drinking less as he tries to keep his wits about him. I don’t mind. My whole goal was to make customers happy here.
Speaking of, I’d like to thank Heath with a Sazerac or five, but he’s not here tonight. Seems like he sent the rest of his team, though.
“Hey man. I hope it’s okay that we all showed up.” Frankie asks as I hand him a Dos Equis. “Apparently one of my teammates went to school with someone on the Slingers, you know the hockey team?”
I nod because who doesn’t? They had a kick-ass season last year.
“When we decided to go out,” he continues, “the Slingers were suddenly invited and now we’re all here.”
&
nbsp; I try to play it cool, not wanting him to know exactly how excited I am by having so many patrons at one time. But I am. “The goal is to have a packed house, right? I just hope you guys enjoy yourselves.”
“Okay cool. There weren’t a lot of people here last time so we felt like we could let our hair down. We liked that. We need a place like that. It gets kind of annoying having to shake off groupies sometimes.” Frankie rubs the back of his neck looking almost shy at admitting he needs a break from his fame every now and then. He doesn’t need to be embarrassed around me, though. I may not have to worry about it, but I get it.
“That’s why we put the tint up on the windows. Keeps things a little more private. And it’s why I put up my new sign.” I gesture to the large plaque against the wall that reads, Keep Frui Vita a fun place to be. NO KINNEARING per management.
Frankie inspects it, cocking his head to the side. “What’s Kinnearing?”
Dammit. I knew no one would understand that part. But Kiersten swore it’s a thing.
“It’s like taking a picture of someone without their knowledge and posting it on the internet.”
“Ooooh.” Frankie nods slowly. “Nice. Thanks for that. I can’t tell you the number of times people take the worst pics and post them just to get a laugh at our expense.”
“Yeah, people can be dicks. But I don’t want any of that here. I’ll kick someone out first. Y’all just have a good time and relax. Let your boys know I’ll be over in a second to take orders.”
“Will do.”
Frankie rejoins his group and I continue to hustle, pulling double duty. Kiersten is playing waitress today because Tammy’s off, but she’s late and hasn’t called, which isn’t like her. Normally it wouldn’t bother me, but normally we wouldn’t have a group of about twenty-five people here either.
They’re all big guys, and they’re all thirsty. I need to take some orders. Quickly, I finish up what I’m doing in the back end and head to their table.
“Hey, guys. Thanks for stopping in and my apologies for the wait,” I greet. “Can I get you a round of beers or some shots?”
They start discussing drink options when someone says my name.
“Oh, hey Paul. Nice to see you, man.”
I look up and recognize one of the guys at the table. He was here the other night. Apparently, he enjoyed the vibe like I was hoping he would.
“Glad you stopped in, Liam,” I reply with a smile, quickly walking over for a handshake and fist bump. “I guess you decided this was a decent place to hang out.”
“I did. Enjoyed myself the other night. Thought I’d come back. Maybe try out sitting at a table with people instead of the bar by myself.”
“Whatever makes you comfortable. If you’re happy, I’m happy.”
“Have you met my teammates yet?”
“First time I’ve seen most of the guys here.”
“Sure, sure. Since we’ll be hanging out, let me introduce you to them.”
He takes me around the table and I swear he introduces me to half the Slingers hockey team. When I’ve shaken hands and taken orders Liam pats me on the back. “I hope it’s okay I brought so many people. I didn’t realize you’d be on your own tonight.”
The comment has me wondering where Kiersten is again. “I won’t be for long. Seriously, the more the merrier. And listen, we don’t have too many regulars but if anyone starts to harass you, just point out my new sign.”
Liam cocks his head and furrows his brow. “What’s Kinnearing?”
“You don’t know either? Dammit. Kiersten swore up and down everyone would know it means taking pictures of people without their permission.”
“Huh.” He shrugs. “Maybe it’s a chick thing.”
“Well, considering Dwayne is the only non-athlete here tonight, and he doesn’t even have a flip phone let alone Twitter, hopefully the sign is good enough. If for some reason it’s not, you know where to find me.”
Liam snickers. “I don’t think we have to worry about Dwayne unless I try to take him on at pool again. He hustled me out of fifty bucks last time.”
I can’t help but laugh. “That’s all on you, man. Any guy who spends this much time in a bar is a shark of some sort.”
“Lesson learned.”
“Anyway, let me get your drinks. No reason to keep y’all waiting anymore.”
By this time, everyone’s finally decided what they want, and taking orders is quick. Mostly it’s buckets of ice-cold beer, keep ‘em coming, which is easy for everyone. I go behind the bar to make drinks and that’s when Kiersten rushes in, Carson in her arms.
“I’m sorry, Paul. I’m so sorry.” She looks and sounds frazzled. “I totally forgot Lauren and Heath were going out of town so I don’t have a babysitter. But don’t worry, I got ahold of Jaxon and he’s on his way to pick up Carson. It’s just going to take about twenty minutes for him to get here…”
I hold my hands up. “Whoa, whoa, slow down.” She stops talking. “Take a breath.” She does. “It’s okay. We only have the one big table and they’re super cool. Plus, you’re a good employee. I know this wasn’t you being irresponsible. It’s just a glitch. No biggie.”
A weird expression crosses her face. “Really?”
“Yes really. Why do you look like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you can’t tell if I’m yanking your chain.”
“Because most people say things like, ‘These are the consequences of your actions, Kiersten,’ or ‘If you couldn’t afford him, you shouldn’t have had him, Kiersten.’ I don’t usually get a break.”
Hearing her words shocks me. From what I’ve observed, Kiersten is responsible and tough. She’s not a quitter. But she also has a soft look to her whenever she smiles at her son. How people outside her friend group aren’t clamoring to help her out is beyond me.
“Maybe I’m not most people.”
She bites her lip as relief crosses her face. “No, you’re not.” She says it quietly, like she’s saying more than the words mean. “And thank you. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. But let me get him settled real quick and I’ll head to the back to grab some more supplies. Your stock of napkins is running low.”
He glances to the shelf behind him. “Huh. I didn’t even notice that.”
She looks back at the guys who are already laughing and cutting up. “Seems like you’ve had your hands full. I’ll go get more in just a second.”
Hauling Carson and a bag full of stuff to the side, she pulls out a tiny little portable chair and sets it in a quiet corner where we can see him, but he’s not behind the bar. Then she hands him a tablet. “Stay here. Don’t move.”
The squeal and kick of his legs indicate he’s more than excited to have the device and I have no doubt he’ll be fine until Jaxon gets here.
I come around the bar and she helps me set some buckets on the tables that have been pushed together for everyone to fit. Once we’re satisfied they’re all set, I think about those napkins again.
“Why don’t you go set your stuff down in the back and grab those napkins.”
She looks at Carson nervously.
“I’ll watch him while you grab the stuff,” I promise. “All I’m doing is slinging beers so I’m facing him the whole time.”
She nods and gives me that smile I like so much. “Thanks,” she says and puts her hand on my arm. A jolt of electricity buzzes through me and I know what that is. Attraction. Attraction I shouldn’t have but why wouldn’t I? Kiersten is the whole package and she’s getting harder to resist every day. “I’ll be right back.” Turning to her son she calls, “Don’t move, Carson.”
He ignores her, engrossed in whatever he’s watching.
Getting back to work, I busy myself finishing up some specialty drinks. It only takes a couple of minutes so as soon as they’re delivered, I look up and realize Carson is gone.
My heart beating wildly, I look around frantically, praying he didn’t accidentally walk out the fr
ont door. I would have heard that, right? The door opening? And how did a three-year-old go missing in a matter of seconds? And how did I accomplish that the one and only time Kiersten needed me for something?
All these thoughts run through my brain as I scan the room before finding him just feet from where he started—by the table full of men, staring at one of the players.
Rushing over, mostly to calm my own nerves and not because anything is wrong, I squat down in front of him. “Whatcha doing, little man?”
At that moment, Liam turns from his conversation and sees the little boy. His face lights up. “Hey there. Who are you?”
Carson scowls. “You no Unca Heat.”
Liam looks over at me, brows furrowed. “Uhh, can you translate that for me? I don’t speak toddler.”
“Say that again Carson?”
“He no Unca Heat.”
“He’s not… oh! No, he’s not Uncle Heath. But he’s sort of his friend.” I look back up at Liam, feeling like an introduction is in order. “This is Carson, Heath Germaine’s nephew.”
“I never would have put that together. I wonder if Shawn knows this guy. I think they were friends in college or something. Hey Shawn!” Liam yells over the table making his teammate cut his conversation short to answer. “You’re friends with Heath Germain, right?”
“Yeah. What’s up?”
“You know this little dude?” He points down at Carson. “This is Heath’s nephew.”
“No shit?” Shawn glances over the table and down at the toddler. “You definitely didn’t get your looks from your uncle, kid. You’re way better looking.”
“My Unca Heat. Gimme tashe.” Carson points at the table and we all look around, completely dumbfounded as we try to figure out what baby talk means.
“Uhhh… what was that?” I ask Carson who sighs deeply, like we’re the ones making this hard.
“Gimme. Tashe.”
“Oh, trash.” Liam seems to have a lightbulb moment, thank God because this could have gone on for a while. “You want to help. Here ya go.” He picks up a used napkin and rolls it into a ball before handing it to Carson. “Here’s my trash. Go throw it in that trashcan right over there.”