The 'Burg: Hold On Part 38

"Mom, it's just a date."

She leaned toward me, looking like a girl who just got her hand kissed by David Ca.s.sidy.

"With Garrett." She leaned back. "He's very handsome."

"I've noticed."

"He's also very tall."

"I've noticed that too."

"Girl like you, you got length and you wear heels. Not easy for you to find a man who can top you, you're wearin' heels. Worried you'd find a boy and it'd be like Tom Cruise when he was with that pretty Kidman lady. They looked good together but never right. When you two walked into my house last week, holdin' hands, I thought to myself, that there looks right."

"Mom-"

"Quiet, baby girl, let your mom be happy," she whispered in a way I snapped my mouth shut.

She'd never met Dennis Lowe. Not my choice, he'd found excuses not to bury himself deep in my life. Excuses I should have seen as red flags to at least share the fact he was married if not that he was a whackjob.

And, obviously, me being with Trent didn't make her happy.

Garrett Merrick was the kind of man who'd make any mother happy.

If, of course, she'd never been around when he was keeping a loose hold on losing his motherf.u.c.king mind.

But my mother, I knew, could be around that and want him even more for me.

I gave her time before I whispered back, "Okay, be happy. I'm happy. I'm scared, but I'm happy. Just be smart too, Mom, because I got a knack for f.u.c.kin' s.h.i.+t up. Not gonna share, but I already almost blew it with Merry. So you wanna be happy, okay. Just do it bein' cautiously happy."

She shook my hands and replied, "I'll be cautiously happy, honey-sicle."

I nodded.

Then I went about finis.h.i.+ng up.

"One more thing to tell you, and I'm sorry, Mom, but it isn't a happy thing, cautious or not."

"Oh c.r.a.p," she muttered.

"There's a man in town, his name is Walter Jones. He's writing a book on Dennis Lowe." Her hands convulsed in mine so I held her tighter. "He stopped by, but he just happened to stop by when Merry was here, and Merry kinda...well...we'll just say that didn't make him happy."

Her eyes started to brighten with joy again.

s.h.i.+t.

"Anyway," I went on, "I'm thinkin' he's not gonna stop by again, but just in case he thinks he can get somethin' from you, you gotta know. Don't talk to him and call me if he tries to get in touch with you."

That happened. Mom had been targeted. It was far more rare for her because many accounts of what had happened were already out there, even TV shows made about it, and it was known Mom had never met Lowe.

That didn't stop them all, though, especially them trying to use her to get to me.

I was not surprised when Mom skipped over all I'd said and honed in on one thing.

"Garrett took care of him for you?"

I sighed.

"I bet that was good," she muttered.

It was scary as s.h.i.+t.

And it was hot as f.u.c.k.

"I need to go to work," I told her.

"But you don't have to leave for half an hour," she told me.

s.h.i.+t, f.u.c.k, s.h.i.+t.

Should I tell her?

I had to tell her. She was probably going to find out anyway.

"Merry's takin' me to Sw.a.n.k's and I don't have anything to wear, so I'm goin' in early to look through some stuff Feb and Vi are bringin'."

Her eyes got huge at the word "Sw.a.n.k's," and her face lit with so much glee, it was a wonder the dark didn't flee the night.

"Mom, cautiously happy," I warned.

"Right, right, cautiously happy about tall, handsome, last-good-one-standing Garrett Merrick takin' my baby to Sw.a.n.k's. I'll be cautiously happy about that, Cheryl."

"Whatever," I mumbled.

She smiled.

Huge.

I pulled my hands from hers. "Gotta go."

"Have fun," she called as I headed to my car and she headed to my door.

"You too," I called back.

She went into my house.

I got into my car and drove to the bar.

Wednesday night, with most of the other businesses on Main Street closed, the bar might be busy but not packed. I found a parking spot on the street two doors down.

I parked, hoofed it in, and saw the place was busy.

Good news.

Meaning good tips.

I also knew I was in trouble because Morrie was behind the bar, Colt was on his stool, and Cal was standing at the bar next to Colt.

This wasn't the trouble.

The trouble was, all their eyes came to me when I opened the door and Morrie grinned a my-girl's-gonna-get-herself-some grin. Colt looked like he wanted someone to tear his own fingernails out by the roots. And Cal looked like he was having trouble not busting a gut laughing.

Feb and Vi were nowhere to be seen, which meant they were in the office.

And the men knew about my date and what was going to happen in the office.

I made my way to that end of the bar and shoved aside the stool Cal was not sitting on so I could put my body there.

I looked up to him.

"How many shots do I need before I go in there?" I asked.

Very slowly, he grinned.

Staring up at him, those sky-blue eyes, the scars that perfectly marred what was once pure male beauty making a bada.s.s more bada.s.s, serious as s.h.i.+t, it was not the first time I wanted to walk direct from him to my girl Violet and high-five her for her score.

But I didn't do that because I heard a gla.s.s slam on the bar beside me and Morrie was there, pouring tequila.

"Feb isn't a big fan of drinkin' on the job," he stated. "You know I don't give a s.h.i.+t. But, officially, you aren't on the job yet, so I'm thinkin' what's in that office, you need about three a' those."

I didn't hesitate and slammed the shot.

I heard Cal chuckle.

I didn't look at Cal.

I looked at Colt.

"You gonna give me s.h.i.+t about goin' out with your brother in blue?"

"Gave Merry s.h.i.+t already," Colt returned, and my stomach clutched. "He shoved it back." My stomach unclutched and I beat back a smile. "Not sure which one a' you is more f.u.c.ked in the head, him for takin' on your s.h.i.+t or you for takin' on his. Just know I'll kick either of your a.s.ses, you f.u.c.k the other over."

"You do know I'm a big girl, Uncle Colt," I shot back.

Cal chuckled again. Morrie joined him.

Colt started to look testy.

Or testier.

"Lotta people love you both, Cher," he said quietly. "Pleased as f.u.c.k you're takin' a chance on life and doin' it with the only guy on the planet I don't have to do an extensive background check on. But want you both happy. You give that to each other, I'll be over the moon. The opposite happens..." he trailed off.

G.o.dd.a.m.ned Colt, being his version of sweet.

s.h.i.+t.

"Message received," I muttered.

"I see good things," Cal announced, and I turned surprised eyes up to him to see him already looking down at me. "He's a catch. You're a catch. That s.h.i.+t works, both of you are smart enough to know you scored and scored huge, and neither of you are stupid enough to forget it."

Joe Callahan thought I was a catch?

Morrie poured another shot. "Babe, hit that, then hit the office. Fortification, then you get the s.h.i.+t job done and you can look forward to eight hours on your heels, which'll be the best part of your night."

Morrie totally knew me.

One could say I didn't like shopping.

One could also say, unless there was a good deal of food to be consumed, the same with beverages, these being alcoholic, I didn't do your normal girlie-type things.

I didn't have money for manis and pedis and facials. I didn't have patience with crowds in order to hang out at coffee houses and shoot the s.h.i.+t or go to the mall and ask my bestie if my b.u.t.t looked big in things.

No, I wasn't about that.

But I was the girl for you if you needed a wingman to go on the prowl, were happy to belly up to a bar and throw a few back while righting the worlds wrongs, if you liked to kick back and catch a game on TV, and I always had a dry shoulder to cry on.

Pawing through dresses with my girls around, giving their opinions about what would be just perfect for a date with Garrett Merrick, was not in the top two hundred things I would want to do.

And these men, who spent their free time bellied up to the bar or kicked back watching a game, knew my pain.

f.u.c.k.

I looked to the office door.

I looked to the shot.

I grabbed the shot and slammed it.

Then I slammed the gla.s.s on the bar, looked through the men who were now all grinning at me, glad they were at the bar and not heading to the office with me, and I trudged to the office.

I opened the door and shut it behind me, thinking that Morrie knew what he was saying when he'd said I needed three shots.

He should have given me all three.

He also should have warned me.

This was because the office looked like the dressing room of a drag show and Feb and Vi weren't the only ones there. Mimi, Jessie, and f.u.c.king Josie Judd (who was more of a nut than Jessie, and that was nearly impossible) were there too.

"Please, G.o.d, tell me Raquel Layne is not about to walk through that door, 'cause I know my b.i.t.c.hes wouldn't invite Merry's sister to come and offer me a dress to borrow to go on a date with him, a date where, at the end, it's a foregone conclusion I'm gonna get lucky."