by Mandy Baggot
“Cole! Is that you? Or did you give someone else a set of keys?” Robyn called as she went toward the hallway to investigate.
When she got there, Cole was sat on the stairs, his head in his hands.
“Look, I know I’m not Michelin standard, but there’s no need to have a breakdown over it. I’ll get Chinese,” Robyn said, looking at him with concern.
He stood up, took hold of her hands tightly in his, and kissed her. She returned the kiss with as much passion as he gave and backed him up against the stairs. She sat astride him, dropping the wooden spoon she was holding to the carpet.
“The random kissing is supposed to be my thing,” she said, laying another kiss on his lips and slipping her hands underneath his t-shirt.
“Have you patented the idea? Am I infringing on copyright?” he asked, taking her face in his hands and drawing it to his.
“Do you care?”
“Not right now.”
He kissed her again, this time for a long time, until she had to pull away to breathe.
“This isn’t a date,” she clarified, trying to get her breath back and ignore her racing heart.
“I know,” Cole answered with a smile.
“So, what’s up?” Robyn asked, getting off him and standing up.
“Just a bad day at work, when it was so close to being the best day ever,” Cole replied with a heavy sigh, sitting up on the bottom step.
“How does that happen? Man! Look at your hand! Did you hit someone?”
“No.”
“So what happened?”
“We created a new vaccine. We thought this was it, the closest thing we could get to a cure for something we’ve been working on for over a year. But it hasn’t worked as well as it should have. It’s only shown regression in fifty-two percent of the cases,” Cole explained.
“Fifty-two percent is impressive, though, yeah?”
“Not impressive enough for anyone to do anything about it,” Cole replied.
“So what do you do next?”
“Go back and look again. Try and work out why it didn’t perform better. And, if we can’t find the answer, we start all over again,” Cole said, shaking his head in frustration.
“How did you get so smart? I mean, I barely know the difference between penicillin and Prozac,” Robyn told him.
“I’m not that smart, just determined,” Cole answered.
Robyn looked at him, sensing there was more to come.
“I lost my dad to cancer. Before that, I had no idea what I wanted to be. If he hadn’t have died, I probably would have tried my luck as a pro ice hockey player. But losing him to something like that, it blew my mind. I had to try and make it better somehow. Does that sound really lame?” Cole asked her.
“No, it sounds very noble and grown up and sensible.”
“You mean boring.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You thought it, though.”
“I would not be living with you if you were boring, believe me.”
“You didn’t have anywhere else to go apart from the basic room at Psycho Mike-o’s,” Cole reminded her.
“And there was that, too. So what did you hit? Nothing containing anything viral, I hope,” Robyn said, smiling.
“Bathroom mirror,” Cole admitted.
“The janitor’s going to be pissed at you.”
“I’ll pay for it.”
“So, Cole Ryan beats up on things and then settles up for the damage. I like that,” Robyn told him.
She leaned forward and softly kissed his lips, taking hold of his injured hand and gently running her fingers over the wound.
“I’ll get some ice,” she whispered.
“So, about those things I wanted to tell you. Well, all the bartenders who came for interviews were useless, except Nancy, and she gave a rousing speech about togetherness and blood and family, so I gave her a job. Then Aunt Pam came in and she wants to meet you, so I kind of had to accept an offer of dinner tomorrow night at six before we all hang out at Taboo,” Robyn spoke quickly.
“Okay,” Cole answered, unfazed.
She watched him drain the pasta. His t-shirt rode up a little, giving her the slightest glimpse of his flesh. She swallowed. She had to stop this fantasizing or things were going to get complicated.
She cleared her throat.
“Okay? Did you hear everything I said? I gave my trampy future step-mom a job at the roadhouse I kicked her out of, and we have to go to dinner at Aunt Pam and Uncle Bob’s and sit opposite the satanic twins,” Robyn repeated.
“I heard, it’s all good,” Cole answered, putting the pasta onto plates.
“Really?”
“Sure. Free dinner, what’s not to like?”
“Trampy step-mom?”
“I’m sure you’ll keep her in line.”
“Hopefully.”
“So who else did you hire?”
“Hmm, yeah, well, she was it. I’m going to have to contact agencies next, and that’ll cost more.”
“How about me?” Cole asked.
“How about you, what?”
“I could work the bar,” Cole offered, stirring a pan of gray looking sauce.
“You already have a job.”
“Not in the evenings.”
“Yeah, but you have hockey.”
“Not every night. We agreed practicing every night was over the top, remember?”
“You haven’t ever worked a bar.”
“Sure, I have. I worked a bar in Chicago to help pay tuition fees. Do you need references?”
“Is there no end to your talents?”
“I’m pretty hot, right?” Cole replied with a laugh.
Robyn’s cheeks flushed as she looked back at him. She wanted to see more than what was under his t-shirt. She was dangerously close to thinking about what lay beneath his jeans. He looked at her again and she felt her whole body flush. He had the darkest eyes, like pools of oil. It would be all too easy to give in. But if she gave in, what happened next? She had no idea.
Suddenly her mobile rang. It jolted her out of the daydream and back to reality. She took her phone out of her pocket and looked at the display.
Clive—again.
She should have called him by now. She’d promised to call him as soon as she’d arrived, and it was days now.
“Who is it?” Cole asked, watching Robyn just staring at the ringing phone in her hand.
“Oh…it’s my work…back in England,” she answered, hiding her eyes from him in case her expression gave her feelings away.
She was saved from having to say anything else when the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it. It’s probably one of your neighbors with chicken and rice. That would save you from the pasta!” Robyn called as she ran up the hallway.
She opened the door to Brad.
“Hey,” he greeted sheepishly.
“Hey.”
“Look, um, I wanted to apologize for the other night, being a jerk and sounding off,” Brad began, looking down at his feet.
“How did you know I was here? And what’s so good about your shoes?”
“I called over to Bob and Pam’s. She said you were here on Woodhams. I saw the Mustang,” Brad admitted, raising his head.
“D’you wanna come in?” Robyn invited.
“No, I can’t really. I’m about to go on duty and…” Brad began.
“Come in. Come and eat some pasta with us. I made it, it looks terrible, but Cole’s trying to fix it,” Robyn said, ushering him in.
“I don’t want to put anyone to any trouble,” he said, reluctantly stepping in.
“Cole! Get another plate out, Brad’s here! And don’t worry, he basically had an olive branch between his teeth,” Robyn called as they made their way into the dining room.
“Look, about the way I reacted last night. I care about you, Robyn, I always have and I just…” Brad began, taking off his hat.
“I overreacted, too. Of course I eat dinners—you surpris
ed me, that’s all. We’ll have dinner, I promise, just as soon as I have the roadhouse up and running.”
“Hey,” Cole greeted, entering the dining room with the food.
“Hey, Cole. Listen, I apologize for last night. I acted like a tool. Can we put it behind us?” Brad asked, offering him his hand.
Cole looked at the offering but made no move.
“Cole, come on. I promise, he’s not usually a fruitcake like he was last night,” Robyn said.
“I mean it, man, sincere apology. I was out of line,” Brad told him.
Cole took his hand and shook it.
“She looks like a great car, by the way. Does she run good?” Brad asked as they all sat down at the table.
“Don’t ask him, I haven’t let him drive it! She runs just fine. She needs a tune up, but I intend to sort that out this weekend,” Robyn informed him.
“Wow, pasta looks…interesting,” Brad remarked, observing the gray colored sauce.
“Yeah, what is in the sauce?” Cole asked Robyn, preparing to take a mouthful.
“Not telling. It’s a secret recipe,” Robyn said, spooning some into her mouth.
Brad looked at Cole and Cole looked back at Brad. Both waited to see who was going to sample the food first.
Cole opened his mouth and put in a large forkful. Not to be outdone, Brad followed his lead.
“It’s anchovy, pepper, mushroom, dill pickle, and Bud Light,” Robyn informed them.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Brad announced, leaping up from the table and hurrying to the kitchen.
“What’s his problem?” Robyn asked with a shrug.
“Damned if I know,” Cole replied, piling up his fork.
Chapter Seventeen
“Good morning, Max, raisins for you. They’re full of goodness and taste like sweets, remember,” Robyn announced the next day, depositing a large packet on the old man’s bed.
“Huh! You said that about the grapes and I’ve been on the bedpan all night long,” Max grunted, picking up the packet and putting it on his locker.
“Cinnamon doughnut, Dad? Or a nice bag of low sugar popcorn? I’ll let you choose. Doughnut or popcorn? Popcorn or doughnut?” Robyn asked, swinging both items in front of Eddie’s face.
“Take the doughnut, Eddie, we can share it,” Max called gruffly.
“I promised Nancy a wedding when I get out of here, gimme the popcorn,” Eddie said, grabbing the bag from his daughter.
“Ah ha! I knew there was a reason she’s being nice to me. You’re really going to marry her. You’ve set a date?” Robyn asked.
“Three months’ time. Did you give her a job?” Eddie wanted to know, pouring popcorn into his mouth.
“Did I have a choice?” Robyn replied, sinking her teeth into the doughnut.
“She’s not like you think, Buttercup,” Eddie insisted, popcorn tumbling out of his mouth as he spoke.
“You called me Buttercup,” Robyn remarked, stopping chewing.
“Yeah, so? What of it?”
“I forgot you used to call me that.”
“Don’t go getting all sentimental. I thought we weren’t talking about feelings. How are the Panthers going? You talked tactics with them yet?”
“Tonight. We’re going out to Taboo,” Robyn informed them.
“Jeez! Taboo! That takes me back! Haven’t been there for years. I can’t believe it’s still going.”
“Thought it would be a good distraction from tomorrow’s game. Give them some bonding time, let them kick back a bit,” Robyn told him.
“What’s Taboo?” Max questioned, leaning forward in his bed and peering over at them.
“What’s Taboo? Max! Shame on you, old man! You never been?” Eddie called.
“What the Hell is it? A bar or something?”
“A strip club. You want to see the girls they got there, Max!” Eddie remarked excitedly.
“Apparently, they have a room for ladies now, with men on stage,” Robyn informed him.
“Hell no! That’s all wrong!” Eddie exclaimed.
“Why?”
“It just ain’t natural.”
“Women like men appreciating them,” Max added.
“Leering at them more like,” Robyn commented.
“They earn good money, we like looking at them, everyone’s a winner,” Eddie told them both.
“So when we going?” Max asked with a chuckle as he opened the bag of raisins and sprayed them across the bed.
“Never, unless you get your blood pressure down. I’ll give you a blow by blow account when I come in next,” Robyn said.
“Not of the men’s room though…we don’t wanna hear nothing about that,” Eddie answered.
“Roadhouse opens next week. It’s almost decorated and I have plates coming today,” Robyn informed her dad, finishing the doughnut.
“Plates? We had plates. Why do we need new plates?” Eddie questioned.
“Dad, it doesn’t look like you’ve served food for years. I’ve had to get a company in to steam clean everything. New plates have a motif on them,” Robyn told him.
“What sort of motif?”
“It matches the sign. ‘Eddie’s Roadhouse’ written on a huge burgundy baseball cap,” Robyn informed him.
“Sounds great,” Max replied, chewing up raisins.
“Sounds expensive,” Eddie said grumpily.
“I’ve paid. I’ve paid for everything,” Robyn assured him.
“On a mechanic’s wage? You’re still a mechanic, right?”
“Sometimes. I work in the office mainly.”
“In the office! Did you hear that, Max? My daughter works in an office!” Eddie exclaimed proudly.
“Punches holes in things and does filing, I bet,” Max muttered.
“Must pay well, though,” Eddie said.
“Something like that. Listen, I’ve spoken to the doctor, and he’s really pleased with your latest tests. He reckons you might be able to have the operation next week,” Robyn told him.
“And that’s a good thing?” Eddie moaned.
“Dad, do you want to be stuck in this bed with him next to you forever?” Robyn asked.
Max was now doubled up having another coughing fit.
“Hey, what d’you mean? I’m good company. Tell her, Eddie,” Max spoke through the coughing.
“I guess you have a point, Buttercup,” Eddie agreed.
“So, what’s on the menu today?” Robyn asked, picking up a menu card.
“Dunno. Some God-awful shit, I expect.”
“Baked fish with tomato and basil, new potatoes, and green beans. That sounds nice,” Robyn said, smacking her lips together.
“You were never a good liar, you hate that shit,” Eddie reminded her.
“It’s good for you,” Robyn retorted.
“Yeah, unlike chips and dips, which is probably what you got on your menu,” Eddie replied.
“Actually, I had pasta last night,” Robyn informed him.
“Ugh! Like worms, that is, Italian worms. Gives me the heebie-jeebies,” Max announced, shivering.
“How do you put up with this all day? I only come for an hour, and I want to smother him with his pillow by the end of it,” Robyn said.
“If I could get out of this bed, I would do it for you,” Eddie remarked.
She had a dirt mark on her cheek. Her sleeves were rolled up and half of her hair was hanging out of its ponytail. He had to put his hands into the pockets of his jeans to stop himself from trying to rub the mark away. Since she had told him about the rape, he found himself wanting to try and look after her. She’d obviously been through it, her mother was gone, her father was in the hospital, and her aunt and uncle had spawned the offspring of Beelzebub. Who did she have? But then again, it was none of his business. He didn’t do involvement any more. Did he?
“See! What do you think of the décor?” Robyn asked.
It was lunchtime, and she had invited Cole to the roadhouse to see how work was
progressing. So far Nancy had proved invaluable. She had completed a stock check, ordered tablecloths and napkins, and phoned back all the beer suppliers, knocking them further down on price.
“It’s great. Wow, this looks like something out of a Western film,” Cole said, admiring the surroundings.
“God, does it?! Don’t say that! I wanted traditional but not old fashioned. Is it old fashioned? Milo! Cole thinks it’s old fashioned. Do you think it’s old fashioned?” Robyn called out to her bartender.
“Robyn, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s homey, you want it to be homey right? It isn’t old fashioned, it’s retro,” Cole told her quickly.
“I want you to be honest with me. Don’t save my feelings, tell me how it is,” Robyn ordered him.
“It’s great. It’s homey, it’s smart, it’s comfortable, and it’s traditional. It’s everything a good roadhouse should be. It’s…unpretentious,” Cole said positively.
“Unpretentious. I like that. Yes, it is unpretentious, isn’t it? Milo, do you think it’s unpretentious?” Robyn called.
“Absolutely, ma’am,” Milo shouted back.
“He keeps calling me ma’am lately. I’ve told him to call me Robyn, but he can’t get his head round it. So, come on then, get behind the bar,” Robyn ordered Cole, ushering him forward.
“I knew it!”
“You knew what?”
“I knew this wasn’t an invitation for lunch and a look at the décor. This is a test,” Cole responded.
“I don’t know what you mean,”
“You want to see if I can work a bar before you give me a job here,” Cole remarked.
“Absolutely not. I just fancy a nice pitcher of Bud Light with the sandwiches Nancy’s making, and Milo hurt his thumb in the stock room this morning. He needs to rest it,” Robyn insisted, making big eyes at Milo.
“Bad thumb, huh?” Cole said, eyeing the bartender with suspicion.
“Yeah, I, er, dropped a barrel on it,” Milo replied.
“Let me see,” Cole said, trying to get a good look at his hands.
“That’s not necessary. I’ve assessed the injury and rest is all that’s required. Milo, go and see what Nancy’s doing with the sandwiches,” Robyn ordered him.
“Yes, ma’am,” Milo replied, hurrying out toward the kitchen.