by Tara Oakes
Tina begins to blush as Gryff laughs. “That’s right, darlin’. And don’t forget the cherry cobbler for dessert.”
Tina begins to write nervously on her pad, avoiding Gryff’s eyes. “Of course. Wouldn’t be a meal without cobbler. And for you?”
She turns her attention to me, although I can tell she’s glancing over at Gryff every few seconds from the corner of her eye, checking to make sure he’s still watching her.
I forget why we’re really here for a moment. I forget that this woman has caused immeasurable hurt to my Ol’ lady, to Lillian, her mother, and even to Sasha, the little innocent girl who I would die to protect. I forget all these things as I watch Tina try to hide the smile that clearly comes doesn’t come naturally.
You can tell by a woman’s cheeks, by the way her lips move if she knows how to smile, if she’s been happy enough to show it on her face. I can clearly tell that this woman doesn’t usually smile.
I don’t know why, but it’s some consolation to me that after everything she’s done she hasn’t been able to find happiness. Maybe it’s self-righteous of me to think that but I don’t fuckin’ care. I’m the one who has to help pick up some of the pieces. I think I have a right to feel a little vindication in this.
But, then, the man in me, the one Angel’s helped to bring out, feels sad almost that this woman lives life without knowing some of the peace and joy that I’ve been able to find thanks to her sister. Thanks to her daughter.
Doesn’t everyone deserve that?
“Uhm. I’ll take what he’s having. But hold the salad. I’m not a fuckin’ rabbit.” I hand over the menu without being able to look at her while my mind is swimming in these kinds of thoughts.
“Comin’ right up, boys.” There’s almost a little song to her voice as she strings the words together and bounces off.
Gryffs eyes follow her like magnets.
“Get your goddamned eyes off her ass before I stab you with this fork.” I’m not joking as I hold up the utensil for effect.
~*~
“I’ll take this whenever you boys are ready,” Tina sets down a long and narrow slip of paper, face down on the cluttered table, before moving to stack the empty dishes.
In the time we’ve been here, the lunch crowd has waned, leaving only a few stragglers behind, and the place has become quiet besides the low music playing through the wall speakers.
“You got a minute, darlin’?” There’s no better time to do this.
She’s taken by surprise, but answers anyway. “Uhm, sure. I’ve got a break coming up.”
I nod to Gryff and he takes the check. “I’ll just go take care of this with the cashier while you two talk.”
Wow. Give the man a hand. Normally, Gryff is a nosy son of a bitch who would glue his ass down and watch something like this play out. Color me shocked that he’s got some respect for the situation and is gonna give us our privacy.
I’m not kidding myself, though. I highly doubt he’s doing this out of respect for me. We’re close enough where he thinks my business is his business. I’m thinkin’ it has more to do with Tina.
Great.
My VP is suddenly gonna finally develop a sense of propriety and it’s because of my Ol’ lady’s junkie sister. Let me just add this to the ever-mounting pile of shit that I don’t need to fuckin’ deal with right now.
“Was everything okay with the sandwich? The cobbler? I—I can get my manager if something was wrong.” She seems nervous.
I hold up my palm to halt her. “Everything was fine. Relax.” I reach into the inside pocket of my cut and withdraw the papers that I had folded in thirds and tucked there before we left Riverdale.
The stiff white pages crinkle as I move them. Tina’s eyes fall on them and her brow furrows in thought.
“You probably know we’re not from around here. And I’m guessing this place doesn’t get too many visitors passin’ through on the regular. Well, I’m not exactly passin’ through either. Came here for a reason.” Once the papers are flattened on the table, I use my fingertips to push them forward close to her side, opposite me.
Nodding to her, I signal for her to take them.
She hesitates, looking around the room while fidgeting, before finally accepting the forms and turning them so she can read the neatly typed words on the legal documents.
I watch her reading, breaking every couple of minutes to sip the cooling coffee she’s poured only minutes ago. Her lips move slightly as if she’s forming the words she’s reading along the page, and her eyes dart back and forth, left to right, line by line. The first page is done, flipping back behind the last and folded up at the staple mark in the corner.
She doesn’t make a sound although her small lips are moving as if she’s speaking the words aloud to herself.
By the time she reaches the bottom of the second page, a long tear begins to well in her eye. Followed by another. Her eyes become glassy and the edges of her lids begin to show signs of redness.
I don’t know why I’m studying her. This is one of the moments where I should let her have some dignity and at least pretend to look at something else. But, I can’t. It’s as if I’m looking at Angel right now, the few times that I’ve seen my Ol’ lady cry.
It’s as if I know exactly what will happen next. I make a little mental checklist of the steps and watch as they unfold, checking them off as I watch them transpire.
First, the skin of her chin begins to dimple and quiver, followed by her lips tightening and pursing themselves into a straight line as the emotions cause a wave that makes her teeth chatter and she fights it.
Second, the little space between her eyes forms a “v” shaped ridge as she fights to hold in the tears that are threatening to overflow.
And lastly, her cheeks redden, flush, followed by the skin of her neck.
She grasps the papers tight in one hand while moving her other to wipe at the warm tear that trickles down in the space made by the side of her nose. She doesn’t reach for a tissue, for a napkin at even.
She just sits there and fights back the tears as best as she can, while flipping back to the first page and starting all over, reading through the document a second time.
Knowing what to expect this time around, the words must have less shock and she can really study them. By the time she gets to the second page again, I’m finished with my coffee and abandon the empty mug to stare out the glass window to the street outside.
I know I’m doing the right thing. That doesn’t make it any fucking easier though. No man, no real man at least, likes to watch a woman suffer. No matter the circumstances.
“Is she alright?” Tina asks in a croaked voice.
The suppressed tears that are building in the back of her throat can be heard as she does her best to speak through them. My eyes close. God, Angel does that too.
Back when I had first met Angel, that very first night, she was doing the same thing. Hiding her sorrow, hiding her pain from me. Her inner strength was doing everything it could to control what most people would find uncontrollable.
That little glimpse of sheer determination and will was the first imprint Angel had made on me. In that second, before I even got to know all about the rest, I knew that she had a fierce fire in her.
I can see it in her sister now, in the way she’s acting much the same as Angel would be.
“They’re all alright. All three of them,” I answer curtly.
They’re her family, her people, and she has every right to ask and to know how they are doing, but if she really wanted to know, then she could easily have found out on her own without me having to come and deliver the news in person.
“I hurt them so much. I—I—” she moves to explain.
“Not my business,” my words cut her explanation short. “I’m not a therapist. I’m no priest either. I’m not the one you need to unload your conscience on, Tina.” I soften my tone, realizing this must sound harsh. The last thing I wanna do is piss this chick off eno
ugh to tell me to fuck off and not sign what I came here to have her sign.
“I’m just the man who met a woman, fell in love with her. I knew she had baggage. I knew she had demons, and all I’m tryin’ to do is help get rid of some of them,” I give her the abridged version. “Molly,” I use Angel’s real name, as Tina would have no idea what I was talking about if I referred to my lady by the name I’d given her myself, “Molly loves Sasha as if she were her own. She takes care of her. We both do. But, Sasha’s getting to the age where she needs stability. She needs normalcy and we can give that to her.”
Tina begins to shake her head. No one likes to be confronted with the truth.
I need to lay it on thick.
“You knew what you were doin’ back when you left your little girl, Tina. You knew you couldn’t take care of her. You knew Molly could. You made the right choice and all I’m askin’ you to do is to finish what you started.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking me to do. She’s all I see at night when I close my eyes. She’s the reason I have the strength to even get up the next day. Every time I wanna use again, every time I wanna make the pain go away, she’s the reason I don’t. One day, I wanna be able to have her look into my eyes and have my little girl smile at me and be sober enough to feel what that’s like. You’re asking me to give all that up.” Her tears are falling freely, past the point of being suppressed.
I nod. “I know what I’m asking you to do. I’m asking you to be a mom and do what’s right for her kid. That’s ain’t an easy thing.”
Her eyes move once more along the papers and this time I find that I’m trying to read her mind, to read the thoughts inside. This could go either way at this point. She’s clean, at least for now she is, and there’s no guarantee that she won’t think she’s what’s right for Sasha. All the hard work she’s put into rebuilding a life for herself, she may just feel that it’s time all that effort paid off and decide to take her kid back.
I know I’d put up a fight, spend every penny I had on that battle, but there’s no guarantee it would work. I don’t even want to think about what it would do to Angel along the way. And the baby.
Ugh, God. What the fuck did I do?
This could all backfire and blow up in my face causing worse damage than what’s already been done.
“I want to see her,” Tine finally lets out. Her voice is clearer now.
Fuck. It’s starting. She’s gonna make a move to get back her daughter. I can feel it, and I’m the one responsible for it.
Angel will never forgive me.
Hell, I’ll never forgive myself.
Before I even have a chance to tell Tina how there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell that that’s gonna happen, she holds up the papers.
“You want me to sign these? Then I want to see with my own two eyes that my kid’s alright. See that what you’re telling me is true, and that she’s better off with you and Molly. That’s the least you can do.”
I exhale deep and long. Great. Yet another thing she’s got in common with her sister. She’s a negotiator.
I spend the next handful of minutes weighing out the pros and cons of this situation. By the time I’m done, let’s just say the cons far outweigh the pros. This can all go very wrong very fast.
But, I don’t see a way around it.
At least now, I have some hope that she’ll actually sign. That’s got to count for somethin’. I’ve been feelin’ her out since the second I laid eyes on her, measuring what kind of a person she seems to be.
That’s how I noticed how similar to Angel she was. That’s how I know that, just like Angel, she won’t give in on this. She won’t budge. She’s as fuckin’ stubborn as my Ol’ lady, and if I try to press her, use scare tactics, make her sign these papers, she’ll only come out swinging, and then this is going to go exactly how I don’t want it to.
“There will be rules,” I set out. “You don’t talk to her. You don’t talk to Angel. You can see her, but she can’t see you. That’s the only way I’ll agree to this. That little girl has been through enough. I don’t need her getting all messed up because of this.”
Tina smiles and doesn’t waste a second. Her wobbly hand is extended across the table, over the empty plates and coffee cup.
“Deal.” She’s looking to shake on it.
As if that means anything.
Never trust a junkie.
I oblige her and shake firmly. “One more thing you should know, darlin’.” I don’t let go of her hand. “I’m not a person you want to even consider fuckin’ over. Because I guarantee you, you won’t live long enough to regret it.”
CHAPTER TEN
STITCH
“Quit your bitchin’ and take it like a man!” I hurl the last baseball in my hand out toward the brightly colored bulls-eye target.
Unlike the first two balls I had thrown, this one finds its way to the round red and white circle just before a loud “whooshed” splashing can be heard shortly after the “Fuuuck!” that preceded it.
Once Uno breaks the surface, combing back his sopping long greyish hair it doesn’t take long for Trix to lay it on him.
“I’m not gonna tell you again to watch your damn mouth! There are kids around! Really! It’s just a little water. Stop being such a baby,” his Ol’ lady reprimands him, adding insult to injury.
Next up is Hops, who bought enough balls to fill a metal bucket. There’s no way Uno is getting out of this easy today. I’ve lost count, but he must have gone under about twenty times so far.
Each time I hear that spring lever drop and hear the colorful curse Uno lets out, it’s like music to my ears. I’ve paid my dues by being in that tank once or twice over the years and had my fair share of water up my nose, freezing my ass off in between dunks. It’s about time Uno got to experience it himself.
I’m just shocked to shit that Gryff isn’t here to do the honors himself.
The rest of the boys have already spent a small fortune buying the balls for the chance to dunk the man like a wet cat, but none of them are getting off on it as much as Gryff would.
He’s got some small beef with Uno, and this is the perfect opportunity to get even and call truce.
“How’s she holding up?” I wrap my heavy arm around Baby and let the weight of it fall on her small shoulders. Lu’s been asleep in that sling contraption she’s got around her, holding the kid close to her chest.
At first, when she came home from the store and showed me the thing, I thought it was some sort of a scarf. Then she showed me how she’d wear it, and even told me I could wear it to carry the baby around.
I promptly told her she’d lost her damn mind and I wouldn’t be caught dead with that kangaroo pouch on. I’ll hold my kid. I’ll rock her to sleep, and even hum some nursery rhyme to keep her calm. I’ll change her dirty diaper, and I’ll give her a bath, but I draw the line at looking like a pussy with that thing slung around my torso.
I’d never hear the end of it.
“She needs to eat in a bit. I’m all out of bottles and I don’t really want to whip my tits out here, so I think I’ll take her home,” Baby looks up to me. “You can stay if you want. I’ll see you at home later.”
I’ve already given enough money in tickets, hot dogs, beer, and a straight up donation to have done my part here. Sure, the fireworks don’t start until after sunset, but I’ve seen them a dozen times. Right now, all I want is to be with my family.
“Nah.” I blow off the rest of the carnival. “I’m beat. Let’s get outta here and go home. We can still see the fireworks from there.”
Our house is only three blocks away.
“You sure?”
I pull her in tight. “Beyond a doubt. We can pick up a nice bottle of that wine you like and set up a blanket outside, watch the show from there.”
Baby grabs me by the scruff of my collar and pulls me down to her. “You read my mind.”
Yeah. I’m real good at that.
Comes in
handy when I know something she wants, but hurts like hell when I know she’s feeling things that would just gut me if she ever said them straight out. These last few weeks have been a game of tip toeing and dancing around certain topics.
But, that shit ends tonight.
I thought I could take it, thought I could just move forward and hope like hell it went away, but it hasn’t. It’s time to get it all out in the air before it breathes up all the oxygen and suffocates us while we continue to pretend it’s not there.
~*~
I can’t remember the last time we did this.
Back when we first bought the house, I remember we’d sit out here around the fire pit at night and just stare up at the stars, talking about all the things we wanted to do.
“I thought you could use a cold one,” Baby’s sweet voice breaks through the crackling of the growing fire in the brick pit. She hasn’t worked behind the bar over at the club in months, but I guess some habits die hard.
“Still the hottest, sexiest bartender I’ve ever seen,” I gratefully take the cold bottle but don’t let her get away that easily. “Come here.”
I pull her hand down until she lands in my lap. The sturdy Adirondack chair holds us both as Baby shifts her weight evenly over me.
“You know what I was just thinkin’ of?” I whisper close to her ear.
Baby wraps her arm around me and leans back, relaxed. “How young and dumb we were back when we sat here for the first time?”
Sipping my beer, I let my free hand fall to cover her thigh. “You were young. I was dumb. But, look at us now. All this time later. We’re still here.”
My woman’s not like most. She’s not the timid kind, she’s not the in your face ball-buster kind either. If she’s got somethin’ to say, she says it. Most of the time. When she’s quiet, and when she’ll do anything to look anywhere else then at me, that’s when I know something’s simmering under the surface.