by Josie Kerr
Ace cut his eyes first to Tally, who was busy putting loose tea into various infusers and placing them in mugs of hot water, and then to his partner, who bugged his eyes at Ace.
“Oh, tonight is going to be so great, Mom. You should see what Cal and Kat have done to the Hemlock Creek Tavern. It barely looks like the same place.” Tally set a steaming mug in front of Ace and handed another to Bunny. Both men nodded their thanks and then focused their attention on the bottoms of their mugs. “Of course, it might look more like what you remember. Robbie Mac said it looked more like it used to.”
Liddie broke the can’s tab off. “Uh, Robbie Mac? You mean, Robert McFerrin?”
“Yeah? Owns the Owl Creek Vineyard? Makes all sorts of yummy jams and jelly, too? Whoa, Mom. Are you okay? You’re white as a sheet.”
Liddie drank half her soda and wished it was mixed with some bourbon. “Uh, yeah. I’m fine, honey. Can you run upstairs and grab me some Goody’s? I think I feel a headache coming on, and I want to nip it in the bud.”
Tally frowned at her mother but didn’t fuss. Liddie waited until she heard her daughter going up the stairs of the old house before turning to her uncles.
“Spill it,” she demanded.
“Well—” Ace started, but Bunny interrupted him.
“Toby Harper’s playing tonight.”
“Okay. Thanks for telling me, though I’m not sure why y’all are acting so crazy.” Liddie raised her glass to her lips, her shaky hand betraying her.
Ace reached over and took her free hand. “Liddie, sugar, you don’t have to—”
“Here you go, Mom.” Tally tore open the small packet and handed it to her mother, who threw back her head and swallowed the bitter powder down dry.
“Thank you, honey. I don’t know what happened. Probably just all the stress from the past few weeks getting to me.” Liddie gave her daughter what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “So what were you saying about Robbie Mac?”
Liddie half listened to her daughter talk about the quiet boy whom Liddie once knew from Sunday school at the Methodist church, the son of a local bootlegger, who seemed to have grown up and legitimized his father’s moonshine business. Then Tally began talking about the new owners of the Hemlock Creek Tavern, Cal and Kat, and Liddie started to pay attention.
“I don’t remember a Kat at all. I remember Kathy White, but she lives in Montana, and then there was Katie Raney, but she’s in Florida.”
Tally shook her head. “No, Kat’s not from here. You’ll have to have her tell you the story—it’s like something out of a movie. So romantic,” Tally said with a sigh. “She and Cal are kind of a funny couple, but they just . . . work, you know?”
Liddie closed her eyes for a moment. “Cal. Calhoun Harper, right?”
Tally nodded. “Yes! Did you know him? He’s really funny.”
“Um, he was a few years behind me, but I remember the name.” A vision of a dark-haired boy with pretty blue eyes and an impish smile popped up in her mind’s eye. She studiously ignored the specter that loomed behind him.
“Well, Cal and Kat have totally turned the tavern around, even in the short amount of time I’ve been here. Tonight’s the official grand opening, and Kat wants us to come. Oh, shoot. I have to go pick up the flyers and the postcards at the print shop in Gainesville before noon.” Tally put her mug in the kitchen sink. “I’d better scoot.” She gave her mother and both her great-uncles a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be back in a bit,” she said before blowing out the door.
Ace shook his head. “That girl has more energy than anyone I’ve ever met. Whew,” he said with a chuckle that faded as he redirected his attention back to his niece. “Like I started to say, you do not need to go tonight. We’ll make up an excuse.”
Bunny sat down at the table and set his mug down with a thud. “Hell, Ace didn’t wanna have anything to do with the tavern when he found out that a Harper was the new owner.”
“I’m still not sure I wanna be involved with any Harpers after what—”
“Stop.” Liddie took a deep breath. “Calhoun is not his brother, and none of the Harper boys are their father, so . . . let’s just take a few steps back and get a damn grip on ourselves. Ace, you always say not to borrow trouble. Well, it’s been thirty years, and . . .” Liddie couldn’t think of how to end her statement without having a complete breakdown, so she clamped her mouth shut and shrugged.
“It’ll probably be fine.” Bunny didn’t look like he believed a word he’d uttered.
Liddie nodded. “Yeah, it’ll probably be fine.” She gulped the rest of the soda from the can and tossed it into the recycling bin after rinsing it out. “I’m gonna go lie down for a bit. I wasn’t kidding about the headache.”
“Okay, Liddie,” Ace said. “And just remember, you’ll always have an out while I’m still around, okay? You don’t have to face anything you don’t want to.”
Liddie nodded and headed up the stairs to her small bedroom, the one she slept in as a child. As she lay back against the pillows, she kept her eyes open, not trusting that the spirits from the past wouldn’t invade her sleep. It was rough enough last night, conversing with friendly ghosts at the cemetery; Lord knew what it was going to be like meeting the living specter of her past after thirty years.
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Tobias Harper felt giddy, almost high, and more than a little emotional as he left the Hemlock Creek Tavern’s small stage. It had been one of those nights, a night when the venue, the crowd, and the playlist perfectly complemented each other in a way that didn’t happen very often and made a musician afraid that it would never happen again.
His brother, the owner and operator of the tavern, had a flight of craft beer ready for him as Tobias made his way over to the high top tables, and Cal’s girlfriend, Kat, stood by his side, whooping and clapping with the rest of the tavern. Tobias hadn’t known quite what to think of Kat when she landed in Cal’s life, but she’d turned out to be the best thing that had ever happened to the middle Harper brother.
“Toby, man, that was . . .”
Cal got ready hug Tobias, something that would have never happened before that sassy redhead had come into his life. Tobias didn’t know if he could handle Cal’s mushiness at that moment. In fact, he knew he couldn’t, so rather than accept Cal’s brotherly affection and be reduced to a mass of beard and tears, Tobias stopped Cal’s advance toward him with a hand to the younger Harper’s chest.
“Don’t even think about it, Cal.” Tobias picked up the first beer from the flight and raised his glass as Kat’s infectious laugh bubbled out of her. “I’m raising a glass to you. You don’t need to get all handsy, okay? Good job, man. May good fortune be with you, and may your guid—”
“Oh, you are not gonna quote Rod Stewart to me, or else I’m not going to just hug you; I’ll give that ugly mug of yours a big sloppy kiss.” Cal hooted with laughter, and Tobias chuckled in spite of himself.
“Seriously, Cal. Good job, tonight. The place is packed, and everyone seems to be having a great time.” Tobias took a sip of the beer he held. “And this? This is most excellent.”
Kat, who had stepped away from the two brothers to talk to another set of people, now patted each of the Harpers to get their attention. “Guys, Tally wants to introduce us to her mother.”
Tobias directed his attention to the group that stood behind Kat. Then he felt the glass slip out of his now-slack fingers as Tally Douglas introduced her mother to the group.
“Everyone, this is my mama, Elizabeth. Mama, this is Kat Fahey, and I think you know Cal and—”
“Hello, Toby.”
“Hello, Liddie.”
The two of them stared at each other, the electricity between them almost palpable.
Liddie was the first to look away. “It was nice meeting or seeing you again. We’re going to go.”
“Oh . . . uh, I’m sure I’ll see you later in the week.” Tally smiled apologetically and scurried off
behind her mother.
Both Kat’s and Cal’s heads snapped toward the eldest Harper brother.
“Toby? Who was that?” Cal watched Tobias carefully.
“That . . . was a goddamn ghost.” Tobias finished the flight, draining glass after glass. “I gotta go pack up.” Then he spun on his heel and bolted to the other side of the bar, praying that Kat could convince Cal not to approach him.
On autopilot, because he’d done this process hundreds, if not thousands, of times, Tobias packed up his pedal steel guitar, still stunned by the unexpected appearance of Liddie Hopewell. Liddie Hopewell, the first girl he’d ever kissed. Liddie Hopewell, the girl he’d betrayed.
“Fuck this shit.” Tobias threw down the amp cord he had in his hand and ran to the front of the Hemlock Creek Tavern, pushing his way through the crowd and ignoring the people who called his name. He burst through the door just in time to see an SUV that bore the distinctive logo of “The Backward Glance” depart the parking lot. He stood there long after the vehicle was out of his sight, though he really didn’t know why.
“Toby, everything all right?”
“Yeah. I was just heading back in.” Tobias pushed past his brother’s high school friend, Robbie Mac. “Just needed some air.”
Once back inside, Tobias realized what a shit job he’d done packing up, so he repacked the vintage instrument, paying attention this time. He snapped the cases shut and then looked around for Cal, only to find Cal paying close attention to him. Tobias gave his brother a thumbs-up, and after a moment’s hesitation, Cal returned the gesture. Thank God. With Cal’s small sign of faith, Tobias wheeled the hard-sided case out the door and through the parking lot, where he loaded the guitar into his truck to head back to his house.
Tobias let his mind wander as he made the twenty-minute drive back to his house, just on the other side of the ridge in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains in a little, unincorporated area called Owltown. Owltown was tiny, quiet, and remote, which was exactly what Tobias wanted after living in the belly of the Music City beast for the majority of the previous thirty years. As it was, the small town was a drivable distance from both Nashville and Atlanta, which made it a practical place to live as well.
Tobias turned into the long gravel driveway that led to his lakeside home. He noticed the front porch light was burned out yet again and made a mental note to get an electrician to come out and check for a short. He loved the house, but the builder cut a lot of corners before he’d gone bankrupt. He’d been in the house a little over a year, and he was still finding random “enhancements” that were unnecessarily complicated or, at times, outright dangerous.
He parked in the detached garage, and after unloading the split case that held his pedal steel guitar, he made his way to the house. The motion-detecting spotlights mounted to the side of the house illuminated the pathway. Tobias could hear the dogs going nuts inside, most likely because they’d heard his truck. They’d be wound up for a while, but that was fine because he knew he wouldn’t be sleeping much due to the reappearance of a certain dark-haired beauty from his past. And she was still as beautiful as she ever was, possibly even more so.
Tobias set the rolling case on the edge of the porch and climbed up the side, not bothering to walk around to the stairs. The snick of a lighter and the smell of burning paper and tobacco alerted him to the presence of a person in the porch swing.
Tobias groaned and turned his head toward the glowing end of a cigarette.
“Candy, what the fuck are you doing on my front porch?”
“Well, hello to you, too, Toby.” Candy Bristol took a drag on her cigarette and looked at him from head to toe, as if appraising him.
She was absolutely the last person he wanted to see tonight. “Seriously, Candy, what the hell are you doing here?”
“Well, I figured that giant asshole of a producer you’re working with might be at your show tonight, and since we don’t exactly get along, I decided to avoid the potential drama.”
Tobias barked a laugh. Candy lived for drama, the messier the better. “Cut the crap, Candy. Why are you here?”
“I heard you sold that land to the developer.” She jutted her chin out, challenging him.
“I did. Seemed the best way to be rid of it.” Tobias eased himself onto the porch swing to wait her out. Tobias might have been short on a lot of things, but one thing he had an abundance of was patience. He’d sit on that front porch all night if he had to, which he probably wouldn’t because Candy was about the most impatient person he’d ever encountered.
Sure enough, after only about five minutes of silence, Candy had to say her piece. She jammed her cigarette out in the ashtray Tobias used when he had one of his rare celebratory cigars, and pointed a scarlet-taloned finger at him. “You know I deserve some of that money, Tobias Harper.”
Tobias calibrated his response before speaking. In all fairness, she did deserve more than she got, merely for putting up with Chet Harper’s bullshit for ten years. Hell, if he was honest with himself, and if he included all the time the two of them were sneaking around together, she’d been with Chet upwards of twenty-five years. The long-standing affair and the extreme ugliness that was Tobias and Candy’s divorce pushed him back to the side of “Candy Bristol doesn’t deserve a dime.”
“You contested the will, Candy, and the courts determined that you, in fact, do not deserve any of the money. Now, you can try again, but—”
Candy leapt out of her chair and got in Tobias’s face. “Try again with what, Toby?” she spat. “I’m broke! I’ve had to move back in with Mama!”
Tobias shrugged. “Not my problem, Candy. Maybe you should have been nicer to him when he was dying, instead of abandoning him as soon as things got rough. You know if you had continued to kiss his ass for eighteen months, you would have been sitting pretty. Hell, he would have probably even really married you.” Tobias opened his eyes wide and sat up straight. “Oh my God, I know how you can solve all your money issues: get a fucking job!”
“I hate you, Tobias Harper.”
“I don’t really give a shit. I’m gonna let the dogs out since they’re going crazy in there and I don’t want to have to buy yet another sill because they chewed it up. You know they don’t like you, so I’ll give you a couple of minutes to get your ass into your car and get the hell off my property.”
Candy’s face paled beneath her thick layer of makeup, and Tobias felt bad for approximately half a second. Once again, Candy had reaped what she’d sown. She’d treated the dogs horribly from the moment Tobias had brought them home, and in return, they’d snapped and growled and chewed up every expensive handbag and pair of shoes they could get at.
“Ninety seconds, Candy.”
Tobias was always amazed at how quickly Candy could run in high heels. She bolted to her car, which if he’d not been so distracted by thoughts of Liddie Hopewell, he’d have noticed parked in his circular drive. As she struggled to open the door, she turned and screamed a final set of insults at him before getting into the car and roaring off, spraying gravel behind her. Tobias shook his head in disgust and unlocked the front door. When he opened it, the two dogs burst out and ran to the edge of the porch, barking hysterically.
“She’s gone, you two, so go do your business, and I’ll get you a snack.” The dogs stopped barking and hopped down the steps to find some grass and then returned to the house as quickly as they’d exited. Tobias rolled his guitar inside and shut the door behind him before going into the kitchen to get all of them a nice piece of cheese.
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Excerpt from
Clincher
(A DS Fight Club Novel)
“What the hell is wrong with you today, Harper? Hmm?”
Nolan sat on a bench, panting, feeling like he was going to vomit, while this obnoxious woman got in his face, and he didn’t like it one bit.
“Just having an off day, I suppose,” he gro
und out. “It happens.”
Bridget stepped out of his space, thank goodness, but still glared at him as if he’d done something to offend her.
“Hmph. Well then, pack it up.”
Nolan, who’d been huffing and puffing thirty seconds before, stopped. “Why? We still have twenty minutes left in the session.”
“Nope. You’re going to end up hurting yourself. And besides, it’s not good for you mentally.” She seemed like she was about to tap him on the head but then redirected her index finger to her own temple. “So come on. Let’s go.” She motioned for him to get up. “Let’s go, Harper.”
Nolan scrambled to his feet. “Hah-pah,” he said under his breath.
“You making fun of the way I talk, hmm?”
“No, ma’am.” He rolled his lips together to keep from grinning. Tahk.
Bridget pursed her lips and huffed a little. Then she turned on her heel and strode to the break room. Nolan tried not to look at her backside but couldn’t quite keep his eyes away.
Yeah, she was good-looking.
She started opening containers and dumping scoops of powder into a tumbler. She added water and began shaking the tumbler vigorously.
“So, tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“About you. About Nolan Harper. What’s your story?”
“Uh, well . . .”
She arched an eyebrow.
“I take insurance claims over the telephone. Since I sit all the time, I thought it would be wise to, you know, get some exercise.”
“Hmm. Okay.” She handed him the shake. “Drink that. You’ve been working hard.”
Nolan took a sip of the shake and chuckled. “Chocolate peanut butter?”
“You seem like a chocolate peanut butter kinda guy.”
She sat and waited while Nolan drank his shake. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. When he’d finished half, he started talking again.
“I had a heart attack three years ago. Keeled over during dinner service, took a whole prep area of Kobe beef out with me.” He gave her a timid smile. “Doc told me that if I didn’t change some things, I was gonna die. So I quit the restaurant and got a desk job. Stopped drinking, started eating a little better. I used to weigh almost four hundred pounds.”