Brainy and the Beast (27 page)

“Did you?”

“Grant. I’m not going to discuss this with you. You’re too young.”

He slapped a hand on his thigh. “No, I’m not! I already know about sex and stuff.”

I felt a burning heat in my middle, and I hesitated. No matter which way I jumped, I was going to end up in the shit, I could just tell. “And stuff?”

He hugged himself and moved closer to the door. “Yeah. Babies. Guy things. You know—stuff.”

“Guy things?” What the fuck were “guy things”?

Now he had his head down and was once again scratching at the denim material of his jeans. A jerky shrug was his only answer.

I sent a quick frown in his direction. “What do you mean? Stop playing with your jeans and look at me.”

He made me wait a bit before inhaling deeply. “You know. I’ve heard some of the guys at school talk about when they—when we, uh, they—”

I took my eyes off the road long enough to look him up and down.

His hand was opening and closing. “You know.” He sounded desperate for me to get it.

Oh
. “You mean—” I made a fist and held it up, looking at it.
Oh
. “Guy things. Yeah.” I blew out a huge breath, ruffling the hair on my forehead.
Christ
. I was so not going to even touch on puberty and teenagers. “Well, let me tell you. You’re not ready for grown-up guy stuff, okay?” And I for damned sure wasn’t ready to talk to him about it. “I’m not ready for you to be ready.”

“Maybe Henry will talk to me about grown-up guy stuff.”

Now there was an idea. The kid was challenging me, but I hesitated for only a second. It served Mr. Brainiac right. “You know what? That’s a great idea, kid. You should probably call him, you know, tonight or something.”

We were now on Waukegan Road, near the turnoff to the house.

“Isn’t he going to come over since you’re gonna be home?” Grant chewed on his lower lip.

“I haven’t talked to him since the day before we left.” I’d been halfway glad my phone had no signal up in the forest.

“Aren’t you gonna call him?”

“What are you—my mother?” I frowned at the kid.

Sitting up as we turned onto our street, Grant looked at me with something like pity in his gaze. “Uncle Nick. You don’t seem to be doing too good a job by yourself. Grampa said you’d probably fuck it up.”

I hit the brakes a little hard as I yanked the wheel around the turn at Foster Avenue. “Really. And since when does Big Mike drop the f-bomb when he’s talking to you?”

This time Grant looked a lot like a bobblehead doll as he shook his head. “I dunno. Sometimes he does when it’s about you and the genius.”

Fuck
. Now my life was a subject of discussion between my sixty-one-year-old father and my fourteen-year-old nephew. “Unbelievable.”

I jerked the Jeep to a stop in the driveway, up against the last of the snow piles. Shoving the gearshift into park, I gave him a narrow stare. “I’m not talking about this now. Let’s get unloaded.” My old man was going to get an earful from me.

* * * *

I was too tired that evening to get into it with my dad, but I let him have it late the next morning. It was a Tuesday, Grant was back in school, and I was planning to head to the shop by noon.

“Dad. What the hell are you doing talking to Grant about me and Henry? He was quizzing me all the way home.”

“What? I didn’t say anything.” My dad popped open the
Tribune
and turned to the sports page. It was one of his short days, and he’d just come home with the newspaper. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh-huh. Sure. Well, you’d better keep your cake hole shut about it from now on. I’ve got enough problems with the doc without you and Grant getting in the middle of it.”

“Oh. I like that. If it wasn’t for me, you’d still be wondering what happened after you pissed him off about Thanksgiving.”

“Christ, you certainly can sound self-important, you know that?”

My dad grunted. “You’d better figure out what it is you want, Nick. That’s all I’m going to say on the matter. Figure out what you want.”

I got up from the table and poured more coffee into my mug. “Don’t worry about me. I know what I’m doing.”

“I hope so, but I kind of doubt it.”

“I thought you weren’t going to say anything else?” Why couldn’t I have been an orphan?

“Fine. You’re on your own. You think you know how to fix this, go do it.” My dad waved his hands at me. “Go. Go on. You’re so smart, you figure out how to get the genius not pissed at you anymore.” He went back to his paper, making a production out of turning a page and focusing on it.

“Maybe if my family would stay the hell out of it, I’d have a better shot. You ever think of that?”

Slowly bringing his head up, Big Mike snorted. “Son, you’ve got your head so far up your ass, you can’t see daylight. If it wasn’t for Grant and me, you’d be stuck like that for who knows how long.”

We’ll see about that.

* * * *

I decided to swing by Renton on my way to work.
Might as well find out right now if Henry is off his ridiculous car-parts-for-sex kick
. That idea was derailed when my phone rang.

“Boss?”

“Yeah, Lee?”

“You coming down here soon?”

I could hear some shouting in the background. “I was heading out to see somebody; then I was going to head to the shop. Why? What’s up?”

“Rick Andreczyk is here. He wants his car, but Sarita says his last check bounced. A big one. And this is not the first time. Now he’s causing a real problem.”

I could hear an undertone of worry in Lee’s voice. The big mechanic was normally unflappable, so I was getting the message to get it in gear.

“I was just leaving the house, so I’ll be there in ten.” Sighing, I swung the wheel in the opposite direction. Henry was going to have to wait.

Grant had shown me how to text on my dinosaur phone.
Maybe I’d send Henry a message
. I tossed ideas around in my head as I sped toward the garage. Surely I could think of something intelligent to say before the end of the day.

By the time I pulled the Volvo into our parking area, I’d thought up at least five things to send to Henry. Every one of them went right out of my head when I spotted Lee and Jake tussling with my deadbeat customer. I hopped out of the car and ran toward them, skidding a bit on an icy patch.

“What the hell’s going on here?” I yanked Andreczyk back, pulling him around to face me.

“Your mechanics won’t give me my car!” he spat.

I could see a vein bulging in his temple, and the big guy’s normally tanned skin was now a deep red. His overcoat was buttoned crookedly, and I could have sworn I smelled… I sniffed deeply, moving a little closer. “You been having a good time this morning, Rick?”

That stopped him for a moment. “What are you talking about?” He attempted to smooth his thinning hair.

I spread my feet, ready for anything. “I mean, it smells like you had Jim Beam for breakfast. That the case? Is that what’s going on here?”

“What? Are you crazy?” He shifted from foot to foot. He bent his head a fraction, but I could see the movement of his eyes as they darted around. “I’m not a drinker. Never drink.”

My brows went up.
Uh-oh
. Lee and Jake spread out on either side of me. I figured they could see the guy was on the edge just like I did.

“Why don’t you come on inside and we can try to straighten this out, Rick?” I lifted my arm in the direction of the glass door. “I’m sure we can figure out what to do.”

“I lost my job, you know.” Andreczyk made the announcement, his voice belligerent. “Bastards fired me because my sales were down.”

I could see Sarita watching us through one of the windows. She had the cordless phone in her hand and was pointing to it. Her lips were moving.
Nine-one-one?

I gave a slight head shake. I was hoping like hell we wouldn’t have to go there. I stepped closer to Andreczyk. “Rick. Let’s go inside, buddy. Okay?” When I reached a hand to his arm, he uncoiled and launched himself at me with a shout.

Jake yelled, and Lee tried to catch Andreczyk, but our nonpaying customer was a little too quick. The dumb-ass swung a right hook at me, which missed me by a country mile. Being drunk wasn’t helping his aim, at any rate. Suddenly thankful I’d had occasion to practice my tae kwon do recently, I easily blocked his swing, then subdued him with a headlock. “Hey, asshole. That is so not the way you’re going to solve this problem.” I shoved him forward several steps until he smacked the brick wall of our shop. At that moment I really didn’t care if he managed to put up his hands to cushion his face.
Dick
. “You’ve got two choices, Rick, old buddy. We can either call your wife to come get you, or we can call the cops.” I yanked him upward a hair. “Which one is it gonna be?”

“Jesus Christ.” Lee’s disgust came through loud and clear. “Boss, you want we should take him around back and teach him a lesson?” Jake grunted his agreement with that idea.

“No. I don’t need to be bailing you two out of jail tonight.” I motioned with a jerk of my head. “One of you guys go inside and call his wife.”

As Jake headed inside, Andreczyk let out a suspicious sniffle. I eased close enough to see his face. It was blotchy, and the only eye I could see looked glassy. “You’d better not start crying, you idiot. I’ve had enough of your bullshit today.”

The fight went out of him completely, and he sagged against the building. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he blubbered. “I need—I needed my car…to go to a job interview tomorrow up…up in Kenosha.”

You have got to be kidding me
. Feeling like a heel, I released him and moved back a step.

“Now I’ve got to…I’ve got to tell Shelly what a screwup I…I am.”

Christ
. Could the guy have made me feel any worse? I rubbed my jaw as I avoided Andreczyk’s gaze. I heard Lee sigh next to me, and I gave him a resigned glance.

“What time’s the interview?” I poked Andreczyk to get his attention. “What time tomorrow?”

He sniffled as he shifted along the wall, head down as he leaned one shoulder to the brick. “It’s at ten thirty.” He dashed away a tear on his cheek.

Fuck
. We hadn’t actually finished his car yet because of his payment record in recent months. So even if I’d wanted to, I couldn’t have given him the car. It was parked in my back lot, waiting for a part.

Maybe I could get my dad to drive him.
Oh, wait
. On second thought, my dad wasn’t exactly my biggest fan right then. “I’ll drive you there.”

Jake came back outside, frowning when he spotted Andreczyk’s beaten-down appearance. “What’d I miss? What’d you do?”

“Me?” I curled my lip. “I didn’t do anything to him.”

“No,” Lee piped up. “Fact, the boss is going to drive this crazy guy to his interview tomorrow.”

I just knew the look Jake would have on his face, so I avoided his gaze. I couldn’t possibly have missed his comment though.

“Boss Man is easy, Lee. You know that.” He sounded fairly amused when he said it too.

“Shut up.” Then I did look at him, sending a blistering glare his way. Sometimes he liked to make cracks about my, er, persuasion. He was under the mistaken impression he was a comedian. “Is his wife coming or not?”

Wrapping both arms around himself, Jake nodded. “Said she’d be over soon as she could get a ride with a friend.” He rolled his eyes. “I think she’s going to give him what-for, based on how ticked she sounded.”

Jake shivered, and I realized both of my guys had been standing outside without coats on. The damned wind had picked up, swirling some light snow and dropping the temperature like a stone. Sometimes it was a pain in the ass being so close to Lake Michigan. In the winter when the wind came off the lake, it could be brutal. “You two go inside. I’ll stay out here until the wife comes.”

My guys hustled inside, leaving me alone with my unfortunate customer. Andreczyk wasn’t making any more noises; instead, he was staring down at the pavement. I couldn’t really think of anything to say that wasn’t fairly snotty, so I fiddled with the zipper on my parka just to keep my hands busy. Shit, it
was
cold out there.

When his wife was driven onto the lot fifteen minutes later, I eyed him up and down. “Be back here tomorrow at nine thirty, Rick, if you want a ride to that interview. You’d better make damned sure you wow ’em, though. I don’t want to have to put up with this shit again. You hear me?”

With a mumbled assent, he let his wife haul him into what I guessed was a neighbor’s minivan.

I yanked my watch cap off my head, running my fingers through my hair. “Jesus H. Christ.” What the fuck was going to happen next?

Just then I remembered my intent to send Henry a message. I pulled out my phone, grateful to have something to focus on and wanting to send the message before anything else could go wrong.

It took me four tries before I settled on something, and even then it took me three tries to actually send it.

Mtg G at dojang at 5. Want 2 come? Bringing spark plugs.

There. That was sure to tempt him.

I was surprised to see Shawn Ginsburg sitting in one of the visitor chairs at the dojang.
Hmm
. Grant hadn’t said much of anything about her since the episode at the school several weeks before, yet there she was. Her thick hair was pulled away from her face this time in a messy ponytail, so I could easily see her attention was centered on my nephew.

Grant was with a sparring partner, and the two kids were practicing punches. From where I stood, I could tell he was keeping one eye on the girlfriend, though. I predicted almost to the second when his partner got through his guard and Grant staggered backward.

I nodded at her and said hello as I sat down a couple chairs over. Grant saw me and blushed, so I made a production of rolling my eyes at him. He grinned.

For the next half hour, my attention was divided between the students in the class and the front door. I told myself to just relax and watch as Gyosa demonstrated a takedown, but my belly was tight and my right leg bounced up and down in a show of nerves. Jeez, I was like a kid on his first date, about to ring the doorbell and meet the dad.