For You(140)
Colt fought back the jealousy her obvious emotion for this Reece guy caused. She didn’t need that now. They’d talk about the fact that she’d need to phone Reece and let him know that contact would be minimal and friendly from here on in but they’d talk about it later. And he’d share then that that contact would be very minimal and more cordial than friendly.
She opened her eyes and asked, “Off duty?”
“Yeah, baby. Beer.”
She twisted, got him a beer and set it in front of him.
“So, you wanna guess what a patty melt got you?” she asked.
She was still wearing the relief on her face, shoving the last drama aside and letting the next snatch of the good life in before the shit hit again. She reached under the bar and pulled up two white, square Styrofoam containers.
“Ham and cheese?” Colt asked.
Feb shook her head.
“Oh fuck, another tenderloin?”
She smiled then flicked the latch and the Styrofoam flipped opened.
“Patty melt!” she announced then burst out laughing, so hard she flopped down beside the food, her arm bent on the bar, her head on it, her hair flying everywhere.
She was hysterical and he should have called her about Reece. Then again, he found out that Reece was safe ten minutes ago so he walked the news to the bar. He didn’t know if that ten minutes would have stopped her from cracking up but he was learning that he probably shouldn’t have taken that chance.
He put his hand to the back of her neck and called, “February.”
Her shoulders were shaking and she also shook her head.
“I’m all right,” she told the bar then straightened, his hand fell away, she pulled her hair from her face and took in a breath before repeating, “I’m all right.”
“Be a cryin’ shame, honey, you miss me earnin’ an omelet because you cracked up.”
“An Omelet a la Feb,” she corrected him.
“I can’t say that,” he told her.
“Why not?”
“I’m a man, Feb. I don’t say shit like, ‘a la’ anything.”
She started laughing again, luckily this time not hysterically, before she said, “I’m not gonna crack up, Colt.”
“Promise me, baby.”
She leaned toward him, putting her elbows on the bar and whispered, “I promise.”
Colt leaned toward her, wrapped his hand around the back of her head, pulled her to him and kissed her.
When he pulled back, she asked, “So, how many folks are yanking out their cell phones just about now?”
Colt grinned at her and said, “Fuck ‘em.”
“Wanna move to China with me?”
“China?” he asked.
“Yeah, that’s my next stop. Bet the Chinese won’t care you kissed me in a bar.”
“Soundin’ good, baby.”
“Now, you wanna know what I got for dinner?”
“Sure.”
“Reuben.”
“Sounds better than a patty melt.”
“I ordered a ham and cheese.”
Colt burst out laughing before he wrapped his hand behind her head and kissed her again.
“Trade ya,” he said when he sat back.
“You’re on,” she smiled before she got herself a diet.
* * * * *
I should have known it wouldn’t be an uneventful night because that wasn’t happening much for me these days.
The bar for a Thursday was busy. This sucked, not because we couldn’t use the money, we could always use the money. This sucked because it was so busy I didn’t get a lot of time to stand at Colt’s end of the bar talking to him. We’d been able to chat while we ate but I wanted to know how he felt about his shitty day, take his pulse about Amy and her note and, mostly, I just wanted to stand at his end of the bar and talk to him. Being busy meant I couldn’t do that which sucked.
Morrie was home with Delilah, still working hard on taking the trial out of their trial reconciliation and when Colt got there, I’d sent Mom and Dad home for a night of rest. It was Darryl, me and Ruthie with Colt playing my bodyguard. I didn’t like this either, this meant Colt would have a long night of it, unless the crowd lightened and I could get him home. I could trust Ruthie to close if the crowd got light, Darryl, not so much.
It was when Stew and Aaron walked in that I knew there was going to be trouble.
I knew this because Stew was an asshole, always was, always would be. He’d brought trouble into that bar more than once when Mom and Dad were running it and also after Morrie and I had taken over. Stew was two years older than Colt and had been married once, for six months, which was all his woman could take. No other woman was dumb enough to try it for even that long.
Aaron, on the other hand, was a nice guy, in Colt’s class at school. He was married, happily as far as I knew, and had two daughters he doted on. He and Stew hadn’t been friends in high school or close after. How and when they hooked up, I didn’t know. I just knew Stew could be trouble and Aaron was often along for the ride, mostly, it seemed, solely to yank Stew out of the trouble he caused. Why he put up with Stew was anyone’s guess. I couldn’t understand it but maybe, with home and hearth, wife and two girls, he needed to take a walk on the wild side that was Stew every once in awhile. Personally, I would have picked something else.