For You(190)

More evidence that I’d made the right decision to pull my shit together before it was too late.

I nodded and said, “This sucks, we were havin’ a good day.”

“Yeah,” he agreed.

I smiled at him. “But day’s not done and tomorrow’s Sunday.”

Colt smiled back and repeated, “Yeah.”

“Don’t worry about Costa’s tonight. Come here, Dee’s on, Jessie’s watchin’ the kids. We’ll have family night at J&J’s.”

“Sounds good.”

I pressed into him and said, “I’ll pick a better song, one we can dance to.”

“I don’t dance, honey.”

This was true, he didn’t. He preferred to watch when I did it. I knew he could move though, because he would dance to a slow song. He was a great lead, his hips would sway, taking mine with them, and he had fantastic rhythm. If I’d had any experience at the time, I would have realized this prophesied good things to come.

Thinking about it, I said, “We’ll put some music on when we get home.”

He grinned and said, “Anything you want, baby, but when we dance at home, we’ll be horizontal.”

I grinned back and replied, “That works for me.”

* * * * *

Colt went to the Station to find out what was happening with the robbery investigation and I took over letting Dee shadow me at the bar. Making drinks and making change wasn’t rocket science but we were relatively busy and when it got busy you had to have a good memory and be able to multitask.

I saw George Markham, the head honcho of Markham and Sons Funeral Home, walk in still wearing a suit from funeral duties. He slid in beside Joe-Bob, caught Dad’s eye and Dad moved down to his end of the bar.

There were two funeral homes in town but most folk chose Markham and Sons. This was mostly because it was on the main drag. Therefore, if you had a funeral to host, you’d get maximum attention from people driving by, counting the mourners standing outside chatting or having a smoke. The location of Markham and Sons allowed the all-important assessment of the post-mortem popularity of the deceased.

Amy was quiet but young and well-liked and just the young part would draw people out because that kind of tragedy had a way of doing that. She was a bank teller so a lot of people knew her even though they didn’t really know her. When Colt and I walked through the milling crowd outside Amy’s viewing, she had to hit three and a half out of five on the popularity scale. This was saying something considering Colt told me Amy had no real friends left when she died.

I knew George. He was the kind of man you knew in town because no one could escape spending some time at his business. I knew him but he rarely came into J&J’s. He liked to golf and would drink at the clubhouse. Though, when Dad was running J&J’s, George would come in from time to time to shoot the shit.

Therefore George being there, and looking like he was coming direct from a funeral, meant something was up.

I sidled down to George and Dee followed me. Dad felt us coming, started to turn and George and Joe-Bob’s eyes came to us as we got close.

“Feb, darlin’,” Dad said, “before the crowd hits for the night, maybe you should show Dee how to restock.”

“I already know that,” Dee replied, obviously wanting to know why George was there too. “Feb taught me last Sunday.”

Dad looked at Dee wanting to say something but biting his tongue.

I looked at George.

“Ain’t no secret, Jack,” George said to my Dad.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

Joe-Bob shifted on his chair. I saw it out of the corner of my eye but I kept my gaze on George.

“Got Angie at the home, had her for awhile. Talked to her parents twice, they say they got no money for a funeral. I don’t find someone who’ll help, Angie’ll be buried –”

“I’ll pay,” I said instantly, cutting him off and kissing that kickass vacation good-bye.

I knew why he was there. Firstly, Angie spent a lot of time in J&J’s but secondly, and more importantly, Dad had a way. Years ago, the town had a little league team that was so good they made it to some championships that meant the entire team had to fly to Japan. Problem was half the kids on the team didn’t have parents who could afford to send their kids to Japan to play baseball. Therefore Dad fleeced every customer out of a donation to help the kids go and gave a hefty donation himself besides. Same with Whitey West when he lost his insurance and couldn’t afford his chemo treatments. Same with Michaela Bowman, who used to work at J&J’s, when her juvenile delinquent son fell asleep in bed smoking pot and burned out half the inside of her house luckily escaping before he got too injured himself, but insurance wouldn’t pay so Dad collected.