by Mandy Baggot
‘Morning! Bratwurst?’ she greeted, waving a sausage in the air.
‘Man, it’s not even seven yet. How long have you been up?’ Cole asked, joining her at the barbecue.
‘I don’t know, about five-thirty. The sun was up, I went for a walk around the lake, came back, put a load of washing on—it’s in the dryer now, by the way, if you’re looking for something—then I thought I’d cook breakfast. Well, I was going to do eggs, but you’re all out,’ Robyn informed him, turning the sausages over.
‘I’ll pick some up today,’ he answered.
‘Oh no, don’t worry, there’s some other stuff we need. I’ll go to Meijer’s later, use Pam’s discount. No point having family working at a store if you don’t take advantage of their discount card,’ Robyn said.
‘Listen, Robyn, you don’t have to do this. Doing my laundry and cooking me breakfast. I said you can stay, I don’t expect anything in return. And I mean anything in return,’ Cole assured her.
‘You’re talking about the kiss, aren’t you? That wasn’t a down payment on the room. What sort of girl do you think I am?’ Robyn asked, trying to avoid looking at him.
Last night’s kiss had been even better than the kiss at the airport. She’d wanted more, she’d wanted him more. She’d wanted something to stop her thinking, just for a few moments. Something to wipe away the sick graffiti the twins had painted and what it meant. What better distraction than getting a little intimate with her crush?
‘That wasn’t what I meant. I just—’
‘You need help with your grocery choices, that’s all. You don’t even have any crisps in the cupboard. I mean chips, you know, deep-fried sliced potatoes with salt. They come in large bags that are never quite big enough to share. Every house should always have chips in the cupboard, if only for emergencies. They’re a comfort food, a basic necessity. And there were no gherkins, you know, dill pickles,’ Robyn told him.
‘I’ve only been here two days and I didn’t know I was going to be having a house guest. I just bought the essentials… you know, bread and milk, pasta and fruit,’ Cole said.
‘That’s a staple diet for someone who always does what their mother tells them. You want two or three?’ Robyn asked as she began putting sausages on a plate.
‘No more than two! I can’t believe you’re barbecuing for breakfast,’ Cole remarked.
‘You need to get into the Michigan ways. It’s always time for a barbecue around here,’ Robyn told him as she brought the plates over to the table.
‘I’m getting that. So what are your plans for today? Still want to meet for lunch?’ Cole asked.
‘Delivery at eight at the roadhouse, visiting Dad, overseeing the decorating. Don’t you want to meet for lunch? I mean, I guess it might get too much seeing each other all the time if we’re living together… I mean, sharing a house. And people might get the wrong idea,’ Robyn remarked, trying not to focus on his lips.
‘We wouldn’t want them to think we were dating,’ Cole said, looking up at her.
‘No, we wouldn’t,’ she agreed with a stiff nod.
‘We could always skip lunch and go to the supermarket—do the shopping together,’ Cole suggested.
‘You really want to shop with me, don’t you! You’re worried I’m going to stock your ridiculously large, talking refrigerator with goodies,’ Robyn said, laughing.
‘Maybe a little,’ Cole admitted, smiling back at her.
‘Well, I promise it’s only my Aunt Pam who has a whole drawer dedicated to ice cream. But then again, she has taught me quite a lot. I can use a slow cooker, don’t you know.’
‘Now you really are scaring me.’
Robyn picked a sausage up with her fingers and headed toward the backdoor.
‘I’ve gotta go. I told Milo he had to be in by seven-thirty to let the decorators in,’ Robyn said, waving her hand at him.
‘Hey! What time at the supermarket?’ Cole called after her.
‘I can tell you’re getting excited for this.’
‘Just want to know what a girl like you likes to eat.’
‘Anything and everything, with everything on it—usually with a dozen sides,’ Robyn replied.
‘Okay. Got that.’
‘One, outside Meijer’s on Westnedge,’ Robyn said, turning her back on him and retreating into the house.
‘Fine.’
‘But it’s not a date,’ Robyn called back as she disappeared.
*
‘Morning, Milo, you’re late. I’ll overlook it this once. Okay, here’s your uniform. Let’s put it on, see what it looks like,’ Robyn said, throwing him a plastic wrapped parcel.
‘What… now… here?’ Milo exclaimed, looking like a terrified little boy.
‘Are you kidding me? No, definitely not here! Out back! Come and show me when you have it on and not before,’ Robyn ordered.
‘Sure thing,’ Milo replied, taking the package and heading behind the bar.
There was a sudden banging and thumping on the door, and Robyn hurried to open it, excited about the start of the decorating. She had chosen cream for the top half of the walls and a deep plum for the bottom half with a chair rail separating the two. She wanted traditional, comfortable, and classic, something that wouldn’t date too much.
She opened the door expecting to see Martin from Decor with his painting equipment. Instead, she was face-to-face with Nancy.
Nancy was wearing a fluorescent pink velour tracksuit. Her hair was piled high on her head and she had thick gold hooped earrings hanging from her ears. She was trailer trash personified.
‘Oh,’ Robyn stated, unable to hide her disappointment.
‘An early riser, I see. What you doing?’ Nancy asked, trying to look past Robyn into the bar.
‘Nothing you need to concern yourself with. What d’you want?’
‘This is for you,’ Nancy said, thrusting a large box at her.
‘What is it?’
‘Old stuff of yours from the house. Haynes motor manuals for about a dozen cars your dad tells me he’s never owned, vintage boy’s toys, little dinky cars, a prom dress that’s seen better days and, surprisingly, no dolls. I need the space. I’ve got someone moving in to help with the bills. There’s invoices in there for this place—they need paying,’ Nancy informed her.
‘Who’s moving in?’ Robyn wanted to know.
‘That’s no concern of yours. Your dad knows all about it.’
‘Does he?’ Robyn asked, unconvinced.
‘Yes, he does, ask him. Listen, you’ve taken this place, I’m not gonna let you muscle your way into the house, too,’ Nancy snarled.
‘It’s Dad’s house, not yours,’ Robyn stated.
‘I’m his fiancée,’ Nancy snapped back.
‘We’ll see about that,’ Robyn said, fixing Nancy with a stare.
‘Whatever, sugar. Me and your dad, we have history,’ Nancy answered.
‘Funny enough, so do we—like twenty-five years.’
‘Couple of flowery letters in there too, from Brad. Amused me all morning,’ Nancy replied.
‘Are we done?’ Robyn asked.
‘We’re done.’
Robyn dropped the box on the floor and slammed the door closed. She leaned against it and closed her eyes. Nancy was a hassle she could do without. She’d been away too long. She should have been around to make sure her dad didn’t do stupid things like hitch himself to a gold-digger.
When she opened her eyes, Milo stood in the middle of the room dressed in his black trousers and new burgundy T-shirt that read ‘Eddie’s Roadhouse’ on the front.
‘Ooh, you look cute! In a very masculine and cool way… that goes without saying. Turn around, turn around,’ Robyn encouraged excitedly.
Milo turned his back to her, and Robyn clapped her hands together as she read ‘Eddie’s Roadhouse, Shaver Road, Portage, MI—Come here for beer and cheer.’
‘I love it! Don’t you love it, Milo? It’s great!’ Robyn said.
‘The color’s perfect. It’s the same color the bottom of the walls are going to be and the new sign,’ Robyn told him.
‘When are you planning to re-open?’ Milo asked.
‘Next Friday,’ Robyn informed him.
‘Next Friday!’
‘Is that panic in your voice, Milo? I hope it isn’t panic, because I need all the help I can get, and what I don’t need is panic. In fact, panic is not even a word I want mentioned at all in this bar. I have a chef coming today, someone I’m trying to poach from another roadhouse. I have old Ada making new covers for the seats, interviews for staff, and I’ll have menus and flyers printed by the end of the week,’ Robyn stated, writing things down on her list.
‘What about plates and knives and forks and stuff?’ Milo asked.
‘Shit! Good, Milo, you’re right. We need something for people to eat with. See, this is why you’re my head bartender. Right, I need to source some plates and things. I wonder if we should have them personalized. What do you think?’ Robyn asked him.
‘I think I’m not sure burgundy’s really my color,’ Milo replied, staring down at his T-shirt.
Thirteen
‘Okay, don’t get up. I’m here with grapes. Hands up, who wants some?’ Robyn announced as she entered Eddie’s hospital room and waved a bag of fruit in the air.
‘Are they the ones dipped in chocolate?’ Max asked, propping himself up and looking eager.
‘What do you think?’ Robyn asked, staring back at the wrinkled old man.
‘Eddie! This can’t be your daughter. She’s bringing in healthy stuff,’ Max called across the room.
Then he gasped and started having a bout of coughing. His whole body contorted, and it sounded as if he was about to heave up all of his internal organs.
‘Morning, Dad,’ Robyn greeted, grabbing a chair and pulling it up alongside Eddie’s bed.
He was wearing glasses and seemed to be studying the local paper. He didn’t move the paper or respond to her, he just carried on reading as if she wasn’t there. She poked him hard in the leg with her forefinger, and he didn’t even flinch.
‘Nurse says you had oatmeal for breakfast,’ Robyn commented.
Still no reply was forthcoming.
‘Hey! Hello! I’m here! Come to see you! Brought grapes, which I think are the closest thing to sweets you can get. Put the paper down!’ Robyn ordered, taking it from him.
‘I hear you drive a Mustang these days and have a boyfriend already. Someone called Cole,’ Eddie remarked, taking off his glasses and fixing her with a disapproving stare.
‘You’ve seen Brad this morning. How was he? Has he stopped behaving like a complete jerk?’ Robyn asked, stuffing a handful of grapes into her mouth.
‘Who is this guy you’re with? Brad thinks he’s shifty,’ Eddie continued.
‘Christ, Dad! I don’t have a guy. He’s a friend, that’s all. And Brad behaved like an ass last night, squaring up to people. Cole played for the Wolves, Dad, the Wolves! I have an ex-Wolves player playing for the Panthers. Isn’t that the best thing you’ve ever heard?’ Robyn asked, hoping the namedropping would earn her some favor.
‘Brad’s been with us a long time and he’s been good to me,’ Eddie said gruffly.
‘What’s that supposed to mean? I have to put up with him being an idiot?’
‘He’s had things tough.’
‘He’s not the only one,’ Robyn stated under her breath.
‘Why didn’t you wanna go to dinner with him?’ Eddie questioned.
‘Jeez! Did he come in here and pour his heart out or something? What have you turned into, Dad? Some sort of agony aunt?’ Robyn exclaimed, poking in more grapes.
‘He likes you, Robyn, he’s always liked you. And he’s a good guy.’
‘I’m going to speak to the doctor about your medication. It’s changing you, turning you into someone else. We are not having a conversation like this. Next you’ll be wanting to talk about your feelings,’ Robyn said.
‘Nancy tells me you’ve taken over the roadhouse,’ Eddie continued.
‘Yes.’
‘Good. She isn’t the most organized of women, but her heart’s in the right place. She’s got someone moving in to the house to help pay the bills.’
‘What is it you see in that woman? I’ve seen more meat on a kebab and the attitude—well!’
‘I thought you didn’t wanna talk about feelings. Tell me about the team. How do they look?’
‘A lot better now Cole’s playing. Henrik’s pretty amazing too,’ Robyn said excitedly.
‘That boy can move like no one I’ve ever seen before,’ Eddie replied, a smile crossing his face.
‘They play Reading this weekend,’ she reminded him.
‘It’s gonna be a hard game. They’re a good team, very tactical,’ Eddie told her.
‘Have you seen them play this year?’
‘Yeah, it weren’t pretty. What’s your line-up gonna be?’ Eddie wanted to know.
‘I haven’t finalized anything yet.’
‘Well, maybe we could look at it together,’ he said with a sniff.
‘You’re supposed to be resting, not getting excited over ice hockey. I can manage,’ Robyn insisted.
‘Listen, I had oatmeal for breakfast and some awful shit with asparagus last night. I need something to focus on,’ Eddie informed her.
‘Not one gram of trans-fatty acids has passed his lips,’ Max piped up loudly.
‘I don’t believe that for a second. You’re obviously just getting better at stashing it,’ Robyn answered.
‘Robyn, that hurts me.’
‘Hmm, well, we’ll see.’ Robyn made a beeline for the closet next to his bed. ‘Did you know I can sniff out trans-fatty acids from fifty yards?’
‘Yeah? So what?’ Max asked, screwing up his face and crossing his arms in front of his chest.
‘So I think you and Dad might just be storing up some goodies nearby, like—in here!’ Robyn announced as she pulled open the door.
Out fell family-sized pack after family-sized pack of chips, followed by enough Hershey’s chocolate bars to restock a large store.
‘None of that has anything to do with me,’ Eddie spluttered immediately.
‘This is unbelievable! Oatmeal and something disgusting with asparagus and, all the while, you’re topping it with chips and chocolate! I knew it was too good to be true!’ Robyn blasted, pulling out the contraband and piling them on Max’s bed.
‘Stop it! If the nurse comes in, she’ll take it all away! You have to let a dying man have a few simple pleasures,’ Max croaked, leaning forward and trying to get his hands on the treats.
‘You’re not dying,’ Robyn announced crossly.
‘We’re all dying, gal,’ Max answered with a throaty cough.
‘But not all from cholesterol overload. These are coming with me, and if you get more, I’ll tell the first nurse I see that you both want a sponge bath,’ Robyn informed them.
‘She’s evil, your daughter, Eddie, pure evil,’ Max yelled.
Fourteen
Cole had spent all morning looking forward to a shopping trip. He liked his food as much as the next guy but shopping for it? He knew the anticipation wasn’t the idea of cruising down a few aisles, it was Robyn. What was her story? He really wanted to know. He wanted to get to know her. So, she didn’t do dates. Neither did he right now. He’d slept with three women in two months just to prove he could, just to take away the humiliation of the whole damn episode. It hadn’t been good, it wasn’t his style, and he didn’t want to do it again. But Robyn was different. He’d only known her a few days, but there was something almost familiar about her.
His phone bleeped and he took off his eye protectors. He looked at the screen and his face began to heat up. Veronica. What the hell could she have to say to him?
*
‘What flavor chips? And we have to have s
ome dips? Which dips? Ranch? Cheese and chive?’ Robyn asked as she stopped the cart opposite a shelf at Meijer’s that afternoon.
‘You choose,’ Cole suggested, looking at his cell phone and starting to type.
‘Well, ranch is my favorite, so we’ll have ranch. Oh, let’s take one of each of these because, to be honest, I can probably get through a bag a day on my own. But then again, I have just confiscated at least ten bags from Max and my dad, so maybe we don’t need more. You should have seen their faces!’ Robyn exclaimed with a laugh as she remembered the frosty looks and the arms folded across their chests.
‘Yep,’ Cole replied, not looking up.
‘What you doing? You thought shopping was going to be the highlight of your week this morning, now you’re barely showing any interest. Who you texting?’ Robyn asked, attempting to look at the screen of his phone.
‘Veronica,’ Cole replied.
‘Veronica?’
‘Yeah.’
‘And Veronica is? Your sister? A friend? A cool girl from back home?’ Robyn asked.
‘My ex.’
‘Your ex.’
‘Yeah, the one who went off with my brother,’ Cole informed her.
‘And you’re texting her, why?’ Robyn asked, intrigued.
‘She texted me, I’m texting her back.’
‘Okay, are we going to start talking in riddles to each other because I’m good with that. My first is in RAT but not in CAT,’ Robyn answered.
‘She wanted to meet up, to talk,’ Cole said.
‘To explain why she was doing the dirty with your brother? That would have been good to hear. Cole, I thought it was you, you look so similar… we weren’t really kissing… I just slipped and his tongue just fell into my mouth, it could have happened to anyone.’
‘Okay, we’re done. Let’s finish shopping,’ Cole replied, putting his phone back in the pocket of his jeans.
‘Finish shopping? We’ve barely started!’
‘The cart’s full of junk food,’ Cole remarked.
‘Shame on you! Dill pickles are not junk food. They are one of the staple ingredients of the all-American diet, and blueberry muffins have blueberries in them, that’s fruit. And they really sort out your insides,’ Robyn replied.