At Peace (6 page)

My eyes moved to my brother. “What?”

“Big guy next door with the blonde chick? She
your neighbor, is he or both?”

“He is. Joe Callahan.”

“Good neighbor to have,” Sam remarked.

I felt my eyebrows inch together. “Why?”

“Looks like he could crush a rock with his
fist.”

“Why does that make him a good neighbor?”

“Also looks like someone you do not want to
mess with.”

Sam wasn’t wrong about that.

“Again, why does that make him a good
neighbor?” I asked.

“
People don’t let shit happen in their
‘hoods that shouldn’t happen. He’s your neighbor, that asshole
thinks to mess with you down here; I figure this Joe guy’d wade
in.”

The thought of Joe Callahan getting involved
in my troubles sent a chill up my spine. “Let’s just hope that
asshole doesn’t think to mess with me down here.”

“He does, you should have a word with this
Joe.”

That was not going to happen.

“Sam –”

“Maybe I’ll have a word, explain things, ask
him to keep an eye out.”

I leaned forward again and snapped, “Don’t do
that.”

“Why not?”

“Just don’t, okay? Seriously.”

My brother watched me then asked, “You got a
problem with this guy?”

“No,” I lied quickly. “He’s just not around
very often and I came down here to escape that whole mess. I don’t
want everyone in my business.”

“Vi –”

“I don’t, Sam. If something happens then I’ll
talk to Colt. He’s a cop, lives across the street. He’s a good guy,
a good cop. It’ll be fine.”

“The dude who had that serial killer after
him?”

“Yeah.”

Sam shook his head. “Christ, he’ll just love
it if that asshole bleeds into his town after that mess went
down.”

Sam wasn’t wrong about that either.

“Can we just enjoy your visit and not talk
about this shit?” I suggested.

“We can after you answer one question.”

I sighed again then asked, “What?”

“You need money?”

Sometimes it was irritating how well my
brother knew me.

I did need money. Things were tight, not to
the point where food wasn’t on the table but to the point where it
was a constant, nagging worry at the back of my head because I
could give my girls what they needed but not a whole helluva lot of
what they wanted and that sucked.

“I’m good.”

“Yeah?”

My voice got soft when I lied, “Yeah, Sam.
I’m good.”

“Okay, then you use that two grand I set on
your nightstand to make yourself a pretty garden.”

I felt my eyes get wide and my mouth drop
open but I didn’t speak.

“And you can’t refuse it,” Sam continued.
“It’s from Mel and me and Mel’ll go ballistic, I come back with
that money.”

“Sam, I can’t take that.”

“You don’t, I’m up shit’s creek with
Mel.”

“Sam –”

He leaned forward again. “How many times you
and Tim bail me out, hunh? How many?”

“But –”

“More than two grand’s worth, a fuckuva lot
more.”

“I can’t –”

“Payback, babe.”

“Sam –”

His hand came out, hooked me around the neck
and pulled me across the space between the kitty corner chairs so
my face was in his face.

“Payback,” he whispered.

I pressed my lips together to fight the sting
of tears in my eyes. Before Melissa, Sam had been a wild one,
always doing stupid shit, always coming to Tim and me to bail him
out and we always did. Even though it had been years and we never
expected anything in return, Sam would feel that weight pressing on
him. It would live with him, right under his skin. He needed to do
this, I knew it, so he could work that weight out from under his
skin and I needed to let him.

I pulled in breath through my nose, nodded
and I watched my brother smile.

* * * * *

The next morning, Joe’s truck was still in
his drive but his house was quiet.

The morning after that, the morning Sam left,
Joe’s truck was gone.

* * * * *

“
Shit, Vi, sorry, I got a
call
out,” Colt said
after he flipped his phone shut and shoved it in his back jeans
pocket. He was seated at the barstool next to me at J&J’s
Saloon.

I looked down at my mostly finished
cranberry juice and vodka. It was my third; Morrie was currently
making my fourth. I hadn’t moved from my stool for awhile so I
didn’t know the extent of my drunkenness but I figured, since I
didn’t drink much, I was closing in on pretty smashed.

“
That’s okay,” I told Colt who was my
designated driver seeing as I came to the bar with him and Feb
after she caught me getting my mail from the mailbox after coming
home from work. We’d called our hellos then she’d suggested I go in
with her and Colt to J&J’s for a night out.

I’d said yes because it was Friday and on
Fridays normal people went out to have a drink, socialize,
unwind.

I’d also said yes because Kate was out
with Dane and she’d asked for an hour extension on her curfew
because there was some party she just
had
to attend. All the other kids had later curfews
and she explained she’d look like a dork if she had to be home by
eleven. I’d allowed this because I was a moron. I knew this party
wasn’t about kids sedately drinking punch and discussing possible
college applications they wished to submit. I just hoped my
responsible first born would act responsible. I also hoped her
boyfriend,
Dane
, who seemed
more into Kate than she was into him (if that was possible), would
take care of my daughter.

I’d also said yes because Keira was at a
sleepover which meant Kate and Keira being out, the house would be
empty and I’d rather be at J&J’s having a drink sitting by
Colt, who was a nice guy (and proved to be a fun guy, in a
light-hearted, teasing, big brother kind of way) and not home by
myself yet again.

“You want me to drop you home now?” Colt
asked.

Morrie slid my drink in front of me and I
smiled at him then looked at Colt and, still smiling, shook my
head. Colt looked at my drink then at me and he smiled back.

He turned to Morrie. “Can you get Darryl to
take Violet home?”

“I’ll get a taxi,” I said quickly because I
might have been heading straight toward smashed but it was Friday
night and the bar was packed so I knew Morrie couldn’t afford to
let his employee Darryl take a trip out to play driver to me.

“That’s cool, Vi, Darryl can take you or I
will,” Morrie stated, smiling at me.

Man, he was
so
nice, they
all
were.

“Really, I’ll get a taxi,” I smiled back.

“I got her,” a deep, rumbly voice said from
behind me.

I twisted on my stool, looked up,
up,
up
and saw,
standing behind me, Joe Callahan, his hair longer and more unruly,
wearing his black leather jacket, a black t-shirt stretched across
his wide chest, faded jeans and black motorcycle boots.

“Yo Cal,” Morrie greeted as I stared at
Joe.

“Yo,” Joe greeted back.

“
Great, Cal, thanks,” Colt muttered, I
looked from Joe to Colt and watched Colt call to the back of the
bar, “Feb, baby, got a callout.”

“All right, honey,” she called back. “See you
later?”

“Yeah,” Colt replied, grinning at her then he
slid off his stool, lifted a hand to squeeze the back of my neck,
he nodded to Joe and Morrie then he took off.

Through this I sat there thinking firstly,
that Joe freaked me out a bit considering he could come up behind
me and I never heard him coming and secondly, that I didn’t want
him taking me home.

I put my elbow to the bar, my head in my hand
and I aimed my mouth at my straw. Capturing it, I sucked up
cranberry juice and vodka and considered this dilemma.

“Beer?” Morrie asked Joe before I came to any
conclusions about my dilemma.

“Yeah,” Joe replied and slid in between me
and the empty stool beside me which meant he came in close to me as
well as cut me off from the bar as Colt and I were sitting on the
last two stools by the wall.

He didn’t sit though. He stood there even
after Morrie opened a bottle of beer, set it on the bar top and
walked away. Then he still didn’t sit, just took a pull on his
beer, his body mostly facing me but his torso was twisted to the
bar.

Then his torso twisted to me and he looked
down into my eyes.

“You talk to her about condoms?”

Again, it seemed he was starting a
conversation in the middle but, even mostly drunk, I knew what he
was asking.

“No.”

He didn’t respond, just looked at me and I
also knew what his silence meant.

“
Kate’s responsible,” I explained though it
was none of his business and even though my daughter
was
responsible, I was declaring
this mostly hopefully.

“Were you responsible?” he asked.

“No,” I answered truthfully and pointing out
the obvious.

He kept looking at me then he took a pull at
his beer.

I aimed my mouth at my straw, captured it and
sucked up some more drink.

I released my straw and asked, “Did you
shovel my snow?”

His blue eyes level
ed on mine. “What?”

“That day, when it snowed, did you shovel my
drive?”

He didn’t answer at first then he said,
“Yeah.”

When this knowledge was confirmed, I pulled
in breath not knowing what to say because this was a nice thing to
do and he didn’t seem like a nice guy then I settled on,
“Thanks.”

He didn’t reply.

I was sucking up more vodka and juice, my
head still in my hand, my elbow still at the bar when he spoke
again.

“Your man gone?”

My chest got tight and my eyes lifted to
his.

“What?”

“Your man, came home last week. He gone?”

I blinked at him thinking about Tim coming
home and how impossible that would be, and how beautiful, then I
realized what he meant.

“That wasn’t my man. That was my brother,
Sam.”

He nodded and took a pull of beer. I stared
at him.

Then for some stupid reason I asked, “What
about your woman?”

His eyes came back to mine but he didn’t
reply.

“The one you were with that night Sam came,”
I prompted.

“Nadia?” he asked like I’d know her name.

“The blonde.”

“Nadia,” he stated.

“She around?” I asked, not knowing why but
also thinking that I wanted to know the answer and not knowing why
about that either.

“Nope,” Joe replied.

“Oh,” I whispered and aimed my mouth at my
drink.

We were silent a good long while, me
halfheartedly sipping at my drink, Joe standing and taking
intermittent sips at his beer. This was not comfortable for me. I
felt the need to fill the silence but found I had nothing to say.
However, watching Joe, he seemed comfortable in some kind of zone
where he, his beer and the bar were one and he was content with
that.

Finally I figured out what to say. “You don’t
have to take me home, I can get a taxi.”

His eyes again came to me and he noted, “You
live next door.”

“Well… yeah.”

“Buddy, I can take you home.”

“What if you want to go home and I want to
stay?”

“I’ll wait.”

“What if I want to go home and you want to
stay?”

“I’ll come back.”

Yeesh, he had an answer for everything.

“That’s silly.”

“Why?”

“Because it is.”

This was lame but with that much vodka in me,
and considering I didn’t drink much, it was all I had.

I figured he thought it was lame too because
he didn’t bother to respond.

I captured my straw with my mouth and took
another drink.

We lapsed back into silence, Joe turning back
to the bar and leaning two elbows on it, cradling his beer in both
his hands until I found another topic of conversation.

“
So, I’m guessin’
Kenzie’s keepin’ her mouth shut.”

Joe’s head turned and he looked at me.
“Yeah.”

“Everything cool with your clients?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re home a lot more than normal,” I
remarked stupidly since I didn’t want him to notice that I noticed
but at the same time I was bizarrely worried that Kenzie Elise was
costing him clients and that was why he was home more than
normal.

“Yeah,” he said then said no more and I’d run
out of steam on that particular conversational gambit.

When I fell silent, Joe turned his head away
and, keeping one elbow to the bar, with his other hand he lifted
his beer to his lips and arched his neck back to take a pull. This
fascinated me for some drunken reason. He had a muscular throat and
I could see it as it arched and worked with his swallow.
Furthermore, his jaw was on display, I noted how attractive it was
and that was fascinating for some drunken reason too.

I tore my eyes away from his throat and jaw
and caught on the little tray of fruit Feb, Morrie and Darryl used
in the drinks. Wedges of lemon, lime, cocktail onions, olives and
maraschino cherries.

“
You know,” I started to inform Joe and
just his head turned to me again, “back in the day, you could
impress a guy just by tying the stem of a cherry in a knot with
your tongue.”

Why I said this, I had no idea. I just
couldn’t sit there, silent and sipping my vodka and cranberry juice
while he did the same with his beer. It was just too weird. I
couldn’t hack it. I had to talk about something.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I answered.