by Mandy Baggot
‘Robyn, I—’
Robyn ended the call and got off the bed. She caught sight of herself in the mirror and let out a sigh. She was back and not everything was the same.
There was another phone call she should make, but she couldn’t face that just yet. She was here now, back in her old life. There wasn’t room to think about anything in England. Her dad needed her, whether he wanted to need her or not, and she had to focus on that.
She rubbed her eyes, swept her hair back behind her ears and unclasped her baseball cap from the handle of her backpack. She put it on, stuffed her feet back into her tennis shoes and headed over to the window.
She pulled up the blinds, quietly opened the window and hoisted herself up onto the ledge. If she told Pam she was going out she would only worry. Having two children, each with an unrivalled death stare, was enough worry for anyone. The night time wind chilled her as she slipped out and she reached back in for her sweater before closing up the window.
It was time to meet Nancy.
Five
It was a fifteen-minute walk to Eddie’s Roadhouse on Shaver Road and, when Robyn arrived outside, she hardly recognized it as the buzzing diner it had once been. Lined up near the front entrance were half a dozen Harley Davidson motorcycles, and in the parking lot were two very run down RVs that looked like they had people living in them.
From inside, Robyn could hear the sound of ZZ Top blaring out and the barking of what sounded like half a dozen dogs.
She pushed open the doors and stepped inside, only to be overwhelmed by the rather obvious scent of marijuana.
The place looked like something that had been blown up and then haphazardly put back together. Through the gloom of smoke, everything looked filthy, tired and tattered. Some of the chairs were broken, the seat covers in the booths were ripped and the wallpaper was peeling away everywhere you looked.
There were a group of men in one corner, clad in leather jackets. They wore bandanas on their heads and each had a denim-skirted woman on their knee. They seemed to be playing cards.
A group of teenagers were huddled around the pool table, and a middle-aged couple were dancing by the jukebox, almost undressing each other. There were four dogs in the middle of the bar, barking and running in circles, slobbering on everything they came into contact with.
Behind the bar was a guy who barely looked old enough to drink himself. He had blond hair that curled tight to his head, and he was wearing a black T-shirt that had seen better days. Robyn sat up on one of the bar stools and beckoned him over.
‘What can I get you?’ he asked, giving her a creepy smile.
‘What’s your name?’ Robyn asked, raising her voice over the music.
‘Milo.’
‘I’ll have a Bud Light please, Milo,’ Robyn ordered, taking in the grime on the bar top before deciding against leaning her arm on it.
The bartender popped the cap on the bottle and set it in front of her.
‘Thanks,’ she said, looking at the lip of the bottle before taking a swig from it.
‘You’re welcome. So, you on vacation?’ Milo asked, leaning on the bar and gazing at her.
‘Nope.’
‘Oh, I thought, because of your accent and all…’ Milo began.
‘Where’s Nancy?’ Robyn asked, looking over at the teenagers as they began to tussle with each other, using the pool cues as swords.
‘She’s out back,’ Milo answered.
‘So who’s in charge out here?’ Robyn asked him.
‘Why, that would be me,’ Milo announced proudly, sticking out his chest in a desperate show of authority.
‘Ah, I see. So, you let customers smoke pot, bring dogs in and fight with the pool cues, do you?’ Robyn questioned.
‘Well, I… you ain’t a cop, are you?’ Milo asked, suddenly looking concerned.
‘No. I’m from a much higher authority than that, and I want you to tell them to leave. All of them,’ Robyn ordered him.
‘Me? You want me to ask them to leave? I… I can’t do that,’ Milo said, shifting from one foot to the other and looking highly uncomfortable.
‘Well, I thought you said you were in charge here,’ Robyn responded, fixing the bartender with a stare Judge Judy might use toward a time-wasting plaintiff.
‘Yeah I know, but I meant serving drinks and… and… fixing the jukebox and stuff,’ Milo replied.
‘Oh, just serving drinks and doing maintenance, huh? Well then, you’d better go get Nancy. Tell her Eddie’s daughter’s here to see her,’ Robyn said, waiting for the shock to hit his expression.
Milo’s jaw very nearly hit the countertop, and she was sure it was all he could do to stop drool from dripping out of his mouth.
He stumbled from the bar, knocking into a crate of empty bottles on the way. When he’d regained his balance and trotted off, Robyn turned to survey the rest of the clientele. It wasn’t pretty.
The youths by the pool table now had one of the girls dancing on top of it, and the bikers had been joined by the middle-aged dancing couple. In the furthest corner, near the door to what had been the kitchen, was a dishevelled, bearded man in a dirty coat and woollen hat, slumped over the table, seemingly asleep.
Within a minute or so, Milo returned to the bar. Following close behind was a peroxide-blonde, tottering on too high heels, wearing a denim mini-skirt and crop top that were at least thirty years too young for her. Hideous large hooped earrings hung from her ears and on her arms were an assortment of cheap bangles and bracelets. Her blonde hair was piled high on her head and some curly tendrils snaked down the side of a face that was thickly plastered in make-up.
‘This is Nancy,’ Milo introduced quickly.
The woman stepped forward, chewing gum and toying with the ugly gold necklace she had around her neck.
‘This ain’t Eddie’s daughter! You shitting me, Milo? Who is this? Some girl of yours? You trying to give me a freaking heart attack?’ She turned her attention to Robyn. ‘Nice try, sweetheart. Want a drink on me?’ Nancy offered, cackling loudly and leaning close to Robyn.
‘Don’t you mean on Eddie? If you’re handing out free drinks so readily, maybe that’s why business isn’t so good,’ Robyn replied, trying to avoid looking at Nancy’s cleavage as it bounced up and down in her face.
‘Listen, missy, what business goes on here is my business,’ Nancy informed her, narrowing her eyes.
‘Is that so? I thought Eddie Matthers was the owner,’ Robyn retorted.
‘Yeah? So? Eddie’s my guy and when he’s not around, I’m in charge. You got a problem with that?’ Nancy questioned, staring at Robyn.
‘Yeah, actually I do. This is supposed to be a roadhouse and it used to serve food. Where’s the food?’ Robyn asked.
‘We’ve had problems. Anyhow, who do you think you are? Coming into my roadhouse trying to throw your weight around,’ Nancy demanded.
‘He told you who I was. I’m Eddie’s daughter, Robyn. And your presence here is no longer required,’ Robyn said.
‘Look, lady, I don’t know who you are, but you ain’t Eddie’s daughter. She lives in England,’ Nancy answered, her mouth furiously working the gum up and down.
‘I got a flight,’ Robyn responded.
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘You should really leave, because until this place has had a thorough revamp, we’re going to be closing,’ Robyn told her.
‘Okay, enough’s enough. Come on, out of my bar,’ Nancy said, teetering forward and approaching Robyn.
‘I think you’ll find it’s more mine than yours. What with me being Eddie’s next of kin,’ Robyn replied.
‘Yeah? Well, we’ll see about that. Where’s your proof?’ Nancy hissed, moving up close to Robyn.
‘I went to see him today, room two zero nine. That enough for you? Thanks for keeping things ticking along, well, kind of… but I’ll be taking over now,’ Robyn said. Her voice was steady and controlled.
‘Look, sugar, I’ve
been running this place for the last year and I don’t answer to nobody… least of all someone I ain’t met before,’ Nancy spat.
‘Well, I told you, I’m Robyn Matthers. There, now we’re introduced. So, are you going to kick their asses out of here and close the door on your way out? Or are you going to let things get ugly?’
She slipped down off her stool and squared herself up to the woman. It wasn’t such an easy task when she was in sneakers and Nancy was in platforms that could rival a stilt walker.
‘Milo, call the cops,’ Nancy ordered the bartender, her eyes not leaving Robyn’s.
‘No need, Milo, already done. They’ll take one step through the door and arrest the biker group for drug possession. And, you know, the gang might just hold a grudge if you don’t forewarn them about the imminent arrival of the police. Although I don’t really know them, they don’t look like the type of people to get on the wrong side of,’ Robyn told her.
‘Those cigarettes are medicinal,’ Nancy said, holding Robyn’s gaze.
Robyn let out a laugh. ‘You’re not serious!’
‘You’re really Eddie’s daughter?’ Nancy asked again.
‘Yes, I really am, and I’m taking over the roadhouse… ooh, is that a siren I hear?’ Robyn asked, cupping her hand over her ear and leaning toward the door.
Nancy hurried over to the table of bikers, whispered something into the ear of the most bearded man and, within seconds, the cards were dropped to the table, chairs were being pushed back and the owners began rounding up their dogs.
‘Turn the jukebox off and start cleaning up. I’ll get rid of the school kids and the hobo,’ Robyn ordered Milo.
‘Are the cops really coming because…’ Milo began, looking uncomfortable.
‘Milo, do you want to keep your job?’ Robyn questioned.
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘Then get cleaning up!’
*
The door opened almost cautiously, and then Robyn caught sight of Sarah for the first time in nine years.
Her friend seemed taller, but she had the same familiar dark, wavy hair that sat around her shoulders. She wore a gray business suit, and black designer glasses rested on her face. She was an adult. Robyn should have expected it, but hadn’t. Part of her thought Sarah would still resemble the picture she had in her head—a sixteen-year-old student wearing a spaghetti-strapped sundress and Converse sneakers.
‘Hey! About time! I thought I was going to get a beating from the Hells Angels,’ Robyn joked as she smiled at her friend.
‘Robyn! It’s so good to see you!’ Sarah said. She rushed to the bar and put her arms around her friend, hugging her tightly.
‘You too,’ Robyn replied, patting her on the back.
‘There were motorcycles roaring up the road. What’s happened?’
‘That was the biker gang. I’ve taken over. You’re looking at the new manager of Eddie’s Roadhouse! Mickey! Jeez! What have you been feeding him? You’re so… wide!’ Robyn exclaimed as Sarah’s stocky, tawny-haired boyfriend entered the building.
‘Can I take that as a compliment?’ Mickey asked her.
‘Of course. Oh, it’s so good to see you!’ Robyn said, smiling at her friends.
‘Listen, we ran into—’
Before Sarah could finish her sentence, the door opened again and Brad walked into the bar. Robyn felt her stomach tighten as she looked at a taller, more muscular version of the boy she had left behind. He was still athletic in build, but had filled out a lot since high school. He was broader, and his blond hair was shaved close to his head. His eyes were still as blue as the ocean, though, and he smiled the second he saw her.
‘—Brad,’ Sarah finished as he walked up to the bar to join them.
‘Hey,’ Brad greeted, looking at Robyn with something close to admiration in his expression.
‘Hey, wow, everyone must eat a lot of greens around here, you’ve all gotten massive,’ Robyn stated, her cheeks flushing.
‘Whereas you don’t look any different,’ Brad said, smiling bashfully.
‘That’s because I’m not different, at all. Just the same old Robyn! God, well, this is so weird,’ Robyn said.
‘Where’s Nancy? Is she here?’ Sarah asked, setting the pizzas down on the countertop.
‘She left with the biker gang, temporarily, I expect. She didn’t seem like the type of woman to take things lying down. Well, perhaps some things, if you know what I mean, but I don’t want to think about that. Anyway, now all I need to do is get rid of the sleeping tramp and the teenagers. Who wants to help? There’s a Bud in it for you,’ Robyn offered.
‘Just one?’ Mickey asked.
‘Okay, a pitcher then. This is my dad’s profits we’re talking about.’
‘Leave it to us,’ Brad assured her, and he headed off toward the group of teenagers who were now sitting down playing Spin the Bottle.
Robyn let out a heavy sigh and took a long swig from her bottle of beer.
‘It’s so good to see you, but we could have met somewhere nicer. This place smells really bad,’ Sarah remarked, opening up a pizza box and taking out a slice.
‘I know,’ Robyn answered.
‘And it’s really dirty. I mean, I don’t know if I really want to even have a drink here,’ Sarah continued.
‘I know.’
‘Sorry.’
‘No, it’s okay, you’re right. The place is wrecked,’ Robyn admitted.
‘What are you gonna do?’
‘I’m going to clean it, decorate it, and re-launch it,’ Robyn informed her.
‘That’s gonna be a hell of a job,’ Sarah replied.
‘I know, but hey, I’ve got nothing else to do,’ Robyn answered with a half-hearted smile.
Six
‘I can’t tell you how good this pizza is. I mean, in England they have loads of pizza restaurants, but they just don’t taste like this,’ Robyn said as she ate her third slice of pepperoni thick crust.
Milo had cleaned up the empties from the floor and started the dishwasher, before Robyn had dismissed him until the following day. He was still shaking when he left but seemed grateful he could keep his job. Robyn didn’t think a little fear of your boss was a bad thing.
Now the friends were eating pizza and sharing a pitcher of beer. It was just like old times and Robyn couldn’t stop smiling. It was her gang, back together again.
‘So you still love food, that’s obvious,’ Brad said, watching Robyn eat.
‘Oh God yeah! Pam and Bob took me to the Old Country Buffet after they picked me up from the airport. Oh man, that place has just got better, if that’s possible,’ Robyn remarked.
‘Her accent’s coming back, have you noticed that? Three beers and half a pizza and it’s back,’ Mickey said with a laugh.
‘It’s so good to see you,’ Robyn said.
‘You’ve said that five times now,’ Sarah told her.
‘So? Come on, tell me what I’ve missed. Who’s doing what? Who’s dating who? Who’s feuding? I want to know everything,’ Robyn said energetically.
‘We’re still dating,’ Mickey announced with a laugh, snaking an arm around Sarah.
‘We’re hardly dating. We live together,’ Sarah reminded with a tut.
‘But you still go on dates. Look at you! Pizza at Eddie’s Roadhouse,’ Robyn said.
‘Yeah, it’s pizza vouchers and a burger at the Texas Ranch House if we’re lucky,’ Sarah announced with a sigh.
‘There ain’t nothing wrong with pizza and burgers, and you gotta love the discounted ones,’ Mickey said.
‘Things aren’t so good here right now, Robyn. You know, economically,’ Brad informed her.
‘Yeah, well, I know. It’s like that the whole world over.’
‘People aren’t going out as much as before or buying houses… especially buying houses,’ Sarah said with another sigh.
‘Come on, how many you sold this week?’ Robyn asked, wanting to know.
‘This week
? None! This whole month only four. Things are quiet.’
‘Well, what about hockey? How many spectators on average per game?’ Robyn asked.
‘Approximately 134 last game,’ Mickey told her.
‘There was no approximately about it. We counted them,’ Brad added.
‘No!’ Robyn couldn’t believe it. ‘We used to have a crowd of at least a thousand every week!’
‘Not for a long time. To be honest, we’re not sure how long the town’s gonna have a hockey team,’ Brad told her.
‘You’re kidding me? Things are that bad?’
‘We’ve only got a squad of ten,’ Mickey added.
‘Guys, what’s been going on?! A squad of ten! How did this happen? And why hasn’t Bob told me this?’ Robyn said in horror.
‘We lost a lot and missed out on promotion. Some of the guys went to play for other teams, and when Eddie got sick we—’
‘That’s it, I’ve heard enough.’ Robyn cut Brad off. ‘Can you tell everyone to meet at the arena tomorrow night? We need to strategize and get things back on track,’ Robyn said. She tugged hard at her ponytail and nodded her head.
‘Well, Grant’s been kind of managing the team since Eddie went into hospital,’ Mickey started.
‘I know he has and he barely knows the difference between hooking and roughing,’ Robyn said.
‘He’s done his best and he’s a good guy,’ Mickey replied.
‘Yeah, course he is,’ Robyn answered in an unconvincing manner.
‘I don’t think he has much contact with Jason any more,’ Sarah spoke up.
Robyn felt her stomach contract, and a shiver ran over her whole body. She fought the urge to show any emotion and tightened her grip on her beer glass. She’d been here a good few hours but it was inevitable his name would come up sooner or later.
‘We don’t need to talk about him tonight. Robyn’s just come home, for Christ’s sake!’ Brad blasted. He slammed his beer glass down onto the bar top.
‘Sorry, I just… you can’t blame Grant for what Jason did,’ Sarah began.
‘I don’t blame Grant,’ Robyn piped up.
She let out a breath to try and compose herself. She’d said the words, but she didn’t know if they were true. She wanted them to be, but perhaps she was fooling herself.