Complicated Relationships (The Southern Devotion Series Book 3) (3 page)

Chapter Five

Chivalry isn't dead

“Hey there, pretty lady,” I said as I spotted Lanie at the end of the bar again.

“Hi, I spoke to you last week,” she said as though she was only another face in the crowd. She had no idea that her face had starred in a few very vivid dreams of mine.

“I know. I’m glad to see you back,
Lanie
. You only got through the two jerks this year and had two more stories to tell me.”  It was apparent by the shocked look on her face that she didn’t expect me to remember her name or story. “Did you think I’d forget?” She stumbled over her response, so I saved her by leaning down close to her ear and saying, “I told you, not all of us are jerks.” 

Someone yelled out “Bartender” so I excused myself to go tend to the individual whose speech was thoroughly slurring at this point. “Did you know we have a special that if you have a certain type of car key, you win a free drink?” 

The guy took the bait, reached into his pocket and slammed his keys on the bar. “Sheck ‘ems out, besha I gots one,” was how it came out of his mouth that reeked of whiskey.

Grabbing his keys, I said, “You don’t have the magic key. However, you did win a free sober ride home!” Sometimes they argue with me or get angry. This guy looked excited; he cheered before dropping his head to the bar to take a nap. I motioned for Bobby, our bouncer, to come get him.

We had a special room to the side of the door for our sober rides pickup. We called it the drunk tank. It’s a room with three plush couches for them to pass out on comfortably. Each sofa had a wastebasket next to it ready to assist in sobering them up. Whenever a customer was too sloshed, we confiscated their keys. Then we'd figure out which car was theirs, provided they have a keyless remote entry, so we don’t tow it, and we send them off to sober ride. It’s a lot of work but worth it to save them from getting on the road. Occasionally we ended up with an overnight guest that had to be babysat by security until they awoke feeling crappy the next day. We would send them off the next morning with a bottle of water and a dose of ibuprofen.

“What would you like to drink?” I asked Lanie when I returned to her end of the bar.

“Beer please, whatever your favorite is. I’m trying new things.” I reached into the cooler and picked out my favorite brand, popped a bottle cap off then slid it down the bar to her. She brought the cool bottle up to her plush pink lips and took a long taste.

“How was it?”

She pulled the bottle away, placed her hand against her mouth to catch a drop that slipped down her chin. My body reacted and I wanted to capture the drop with my lips. There’s a definite attraction to this woman. “It’s good.” 

“Did you have another bad date, is this your bad date getaway now?” 

She grinned, “No. I like this bar. I love that you do so much to make sure people get home safely.”

“My bosses father was killed not long ago by a drunk driver. And I mean bosses, plural. The owners are brothers. After his death, they spent extra money investing in a sober ride business. They wanted to make sure they weren't responsible for anyone else losing a loved one. We do our best to keep an eye out on people who are leaving here to make sure they aren’t driving. We’ve even had to call the cops on a few of our customers that got behind the wheel wasted.”

“Wow, that’s very responsible.” 

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a guy rough handling a woman. “Excuse me a moment,” I said to Lanie before turning and yelling, “Hey Marcus! Keep an eye on the bar!” Pushing my way through the crowd, I tapped the guy on the shoulder.

He turned around angrily, “What?”

“You need to keep your hands off the lady or get out of the club.” 

With a step towards me, he puts his nose against mine, “Who’s going to make me?”

A hand slammed down on his shoulder, and a gruff voice said, “That would be me.”  When the man turned around, he looked up at my friend (and boss) Ashton. I’m no scrawny guy, believe me. However, Ashton was over six foot five and solid muscle. I know he’s complete mush inside, but he is intimidating to look at nonetheless. “This is my club. Ma’am, are you with this guy?”  She shook her head no. “Good. That means that you’re bothering my customers, which means you’re bothering me. You can leave her alone, or you can just leave. Make a choice. If I see you manhandle anyone else in here, I’ll call the police. You got it?” The only response received was a grunt before he stalked away.

“Thanks,” the woman said, batting her eyes at Ashton. She ran her hand along his bicep and said, “Can I repay you?”

Politely, he moved her hand from his arm and replied, “I’m flattered, but I’m a very happily married man. My friend Tristan here is single though.” 

She went from hurt by rejection to checking me out for a moment. Before she answered, I pointed toward the bar and said, “I have to get back to my station. I’ll be behind the bar if you need me.”

It wasn’t that I didn’t think she was cute, but she seemed to want any guy she could get and I’m the point I want something more substantial. Plus, I wanted to get back to the auburn beauty at the bar. Lanie wasn’t sitting where I left her. After a glance around the room, I spotted her dancing with a guy. It stirred something inside me that I’d felt before, jealousy. It was the same thing I felt when I first saw Mary Jane and Derrick together. I barely knew Lanie, but I knew that I didn’t like that guy having his hands on her.

My eyes fixated on her. I couldn’t stop watching the way she moved. The way her hips swayed back and forth they were hypnotizing me. Her dance partner moved his hand down her sides and began to lift her dress up her thighs. Anger boiled inside me; I was ready to pounce. I strapped on my metaphorical superhero cape, and as I approached (to save the day) I noticed she had not only pushed his hands away but punched him in the nose as well. I couldn’t help laughing. She turned red when she spotted me, and I raised my hand up, “High five.” She smacked my hand. “It’s hard to believe you complain about jerks, looks like you can take care of yourself pretty well.”

“I have three older brothers that taught me how to take care of myself.” She pushed past me reclaiming her seat at the bar. “Can I get another of those beers?”

“Sure. And if you tell me about the other two guys, it’s on me.”

“Deal,” she agreed. After I had popped the top on the beer, she took a long pull and then began her story, “Guy number three thought he was all that and a bag of chips. He was nothing but crumbs if you ask me. He took me to a strip club. I’m open-minded and all that, but a first date…at a strip club?” 

“Ouch. I agree. If you’re going to do that there should be a warning and intimacy already present. What kind of perverted weirdo would do that?”

“See, told you I know how to pick them. Last but not least, the date from the night I met you. We had a great time. He’s charming, sophisticated, well mannered, all around great guy.”

“I’m not getting a problem with him,” I said, thoroughly confused.

“There was no problem. Until he reached out to touch my hand on the table, and there was a wedding ring on his finger.”
              “Whoa.”

“That’s what I said!” she exclaimed with annoyance. “He told me his wife cared more about the kids than him these days, and it was practically a dead marriage.”

“What did you say to that?”

“I told him to call me when he found a woman to believe that line.” She took a swig from her beer bottle. “I’m done dating for a while. I’ll find something else to occupy my time.” That comment burst my bubble; maybe I could change her mind about dating.

“How’d you end up here that night? Is this where you met?”

“No. A friend of mine told me about this club, and I had wanted to check it out. That night seemed like a perfect occasion.”

“Tristan!” Marcus yelled from behind me.  When I turned, he waved his hands to show the fullness of the crowd in front of the bar.

“Shit! I’ll be back,” I sprinted across to start taking orders. Normally someone can shout something at me, and I can get it easily. At this moment, I was writing everything down with descriptions on who ordered it. Gorbachev; Bud Light beer. Barney; a shot of whiskey. Gingerman; JagerBomb. Fake boobs; Cosmo. Mullet; MGD. With five orders written down, I stopped to get them ready before taking five more and repeated this until the bar was clear once more. Turning to Marcus, I said, “Sorry man. I was distracted.”

“I noticed. She’s hot, by the way; I’d be distracted too. Sorry, you missed out on talking to her.” 

“Oh no, she’s…” I started to say as I turned towards her. Her seat now held a large hairy redneck looking man. I cursed at missing a chance to ask her out. My relief bartender for the night, Xander, walked toward me from where I'd left her.

“The hottie at the bar paid her tab, then gave me this for you,” he handed me a twenty-dollar tip wrapped around a business card. “She said to give her a call and she’d finish telling you a story.”

The business card was one of ours from the bar. She'd written her number on it and written her name below it with a heart dotting the letter 'I'.  I programmed it into my phone and then pulled my wallet out of my back pocket and slipped the card in behind a school photo of Macy. 

Chapter Six

Life's Complications

My plan had been to call Lanie the day after she gave me the business card, but it didn’t pan out the way I wanted. The morning instead began with a mopey Macy lying on the couch in the living room. "Hey, squirt, what's up?"

She grumbled a low, "Nothing."

"What's wrong?"

Another low grumble, "Nothing."

Her mood required drastic measures; I grabbed the remote off the table and switched off the television. "As convincing as that sounds, sit up please and convince me a little more."

She rolled her eyes and sat up reluctantly. "Why do boys not do what they say they'll do?"

"Is this about…" I squeezed my eyes shut trying to remember the name of the boy that Macy went on her first date with a couple of months ago.

"Carter…his name was Carter. And yes, it's about him. Our first date was a lot of fun, and I thought we hit it off, but he hasn't called me this summer like he said he would."

Big brother instinct made me want to beat the kid up for making my sister sad. The teenage boy of my past understood why he might be acting this way. Choosing my words carefully, I said, "He's a putz." OK, so I didn't choose my words as carefully as I should have. Sure, I didn’t curse or make threats, but I meant to be a little more comforting than that. "What I mean is that he's a teenage boy. When I was a teenager do you remember how many girls I dated?" Macy's face displayed more hurt, and I knew that those words were no more comforting than my first.

Angel spoke up as she walked in the room, "I think what Tristan is trying to say is that Carter is young and naïve. When a teenage boy says he'll call, it may not mean right away. It doesn’t mean he didn’t have fun with you or that he doesn’t like you."

"Thanks, Angel. Maybe he's waiting until school starts again? He may have a busy summer," Macy began making assumptions comfort herself.

"That's the spirit. I'll see you two later, I'm off to work." Angel gave us each a kiss on the cheek and sauntered out the door.

Back in Florida, Macy and I used to spend a lot of time together. I tried to make sure she never felt abandoned or alone, so I devoted all my free time to her. When Mary Jane came in the picture, the three of us began to hang out together. Now that we're in Nashville that had changed. MJ got married and had a stepdaughter, and I spend many hours at work so that I could pay bills and buy Macy the things she wanted and needed. We hadn't spent a single day together as just the two of us in over a year at least. I needed to change that.

"Remember our tourist days in Florida?" Macy nodded, so I continued, "We haven't had one of those in Nashville. Let's do that today, just the two of us." Her face lit up with excitement I hadn't witnessed in a while which made me happy and sad at the same time. I felt that I had neglected my sister, the most important person in my life. "Go upstairs and get dressed in your best tourist clothing."

Macy bolted up the stairs, and I followed her. During our tourist days in Florida, we would wear attire that only non-Floridians would wear such as shirts with catchy phrases about the state or extreme Disney attire including a pair of Mickey Mouse ears. In Nashville, the tourist population wore cowboy hats, boots, and fringe or rhinestones. The stereotypical country attire, something most native Nashvillians never wear.

Macy stepped from her room wearing a pair of blue jeans with a plaid button down shirt tucked in and a pair of cowboy boots that MJ bought her when they first moved here. "I need a cowboy hat for full effect," she said spinning around.

For my attire, I donned a pair of jeans I'd never wear on a normal basis.  They were a size too small and so tight that I was afraid my voice would be higher than Macy's for the entire day. For my shirt, I also chose a plaid button down and paired it with a belt buckle that read 'I (heart) Nashville' also bought by Mary Jane as a joke when we moved. I had a set of cowboy boots from when I lived in Florida, so I wore those.

"We'll buy hats first thing when we get downtown today. After that, we'll grab breakfast at the Pancake Pantry and then figure out from there what tourist thing to do next."

Macy clapped happily, "I'm excited, T! I've missed these days!"

Second Avenue or Broadway Street downtown were the best places to shop for a cowboy hat because you can find every style imaginable. They weren’t cheap, but I had worked a lot of overtime lately, so I made a choice to splurge a bit today. I'd have to work more overtime to make up for it, but the smile on Macy's face made it worth every penny. She chose a beige hat with an Aztec design on the band. For me, she picked out a black cowboy hat with a brown leather band. We proudly wore our hats back to the car and drove to the Pancake Pantry on Twenty-first Avenue next.

The restaurant was a popular tourist stop that we heard a lot about but hadn't been able to visit so far. The line wrapped around the building was the reason. We put our names on the list, and the hostess informed us the wait was over an hour but to feel free to shop the surrounding boutiques. We stood on the corner looking at the options in front of us. "Where do you want to go?"

Macy's eyes bulged as they landed on the green and gold sign of a bookstore across the street. Grabbing her hand we ran across the road together and ventured inside. The store was small and smelled musty. The aisles were barely wide enough for two people to pass. The books were all old, and some were even first editions. It felt like we stepped back in time. Ever since she was five, Macy's loved to read. She ran her hands along the shelves in complete awe of what they contained. Each book she pulled down and viewed with the intensity of someone seeing one of the seventh wonders of the world. One particular book she pulled down made her eyes mist with tears.

"It's The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe. The first book mom read to me; it was her favorite." Macy held the book against her chest closing her eyes in thought. "I tried to read it to her at the hospital one day and she told me the story was stupid."

Our mother's Alzheimer's's had hit Macy the hardest, and I don’t know why I thought ignoring it instead of talking about it would make her forget. "It's the disease talking, Macy, not our mom."

"Doesn’t make it hurt any less."

She had a point. Of all the people in the world, your parents should always remember things about your life since they were the ones there for most every moment.

"She shoved me that day too."

"What?" I asked outragedly. Our mother had never laid a hand on us in anger or frustration. She never believed in spanking. "You never told me that."

"I didn't want you to worry or get angry. As you said, it's the disease. I'd left the room for a moment, and I came back in and went to hug her goodbye. She gasped with horror and shoved me away telling me to get out of her room. The shove was hard enough to knock me off my feet. She started screaming that she didn’t know me and to keep my hands off her. The nurses came in to restrain her, and I ran out crying. That was the day I accepted that she wouldn’t come back to us."

I pulled Macy against my chest hugging her tightly. Smoothing her hair, I let a few tears fall feeling the hurt she had to endure that day. I had a similar experience with mom causing my hope to die as well. Mine came when I walked into the room, and she flirted with me. The moment was sad and creepy for me, but still better than Macy's. If I could trade that moment with her, I would.

"Will you buy this book for me, T? I'd like something to remember her by and I left my copy there that day."

The price was a bit high for the hardcover edition. Crunching a few numbers in my head to be sure I could pay bills, I bought it for her, deciding that I'd live off the free snacks at work for meals until next payday. The cashier was a friendly older man who sat at a small desk in the corner using an old cash register that looked like a typewriter. "Where are you two from?" he asked kindly noting the tourist outfits.

"Florida," we both replied not wanting to explain our attire. It wasn't a lie since we hadn't lived in Nashville for very long.

"I love Florida, been there many times in my life. Enjoy your stay and come back and see us again some day."

"We will," Macy promised with a smile. Once the door closed behind us, she turned and asked, "Can we skip breakfast. I'm not that hungry anymore."

"Sure, squirt. Where do you want to go?"

"Could we go see MJ?"

"I'll call her and see," I replied. The last time I saw MJ was before she left for her honeymoon and she and Derrick announced that they were expecting a child together. It was a bittersweet moment for me.  The phone rang until voicemail picked up. "Hey, MJ it's Tristan. Macy and I are out spending the day together, and we wanted to come by to see you. If you're not busy, give me a call."

"No answer, I guess?" Macy asked the obvious question. I shook my head, and she sighed. "Can we go home and watch a movie then? Maybe when Angel comes home tonight, the three of us could play a game or something."

"Sounds like fun."

We didn’t hear back from Mary Jane that night, but we did enjoy a fun game of Monopoly with Angel.  My money stacks were low, and I owned some of the cheapest properties on the board. "I'm calling it a night. You ladies have practically bankrupted me."

"Poor, Tristan. You're such a bad sport when you don't get Park Place or Boardwalk," Macy teased good-naturedly.

"I still think you cheat." I grinned and mussed her hair. We packed up the game and went to our separate rooms. I grabbed a towel and pair of shorts to go get a shower before bed. Macy stood at the sink brushing her teeth. She grinned at me with a mouthful of toothpaste. I closed the toilet seat and sat my fresh clothes on it while she finished up.

After spitting and wiping her mouth, she wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed my cheek. "Thanks for today, T. I had fun."

"Me too, kid. We'll have to do it again soon. I promise that we'll get back to our traditions again."  Life needed to get back to the way it was before MJ. Not that I don’t like having all these new friends in my life, but Macy should always come first. I'm the closest thing she had to a parent anymore. She can't handle any more let downs in life from parents.