Hell, Yeah (14 page)

“Well, those women don’t have any right to take up the best dancers in the place. I can’t learn if they don’t dance with me,” Larissa said.

“Want me to go trip ’em? If they got broke ankles they won’t be rubbin’ all over them men,” Jezzy said.

“I don’t care if they rub on them. Hell, they can have sex standin’ up for all I care. I just want them to be nice and share. They can even take them home and sleep with them when the place closes down. I just want someone to dance with,” Larissa said.

“Larissa!” Cathy said.

“Well, it’s the truth.”

Luther left the pool table, leaned on the bar, and winked at Cathy. “Give me a quart of Coors, please, honey. I been thinkin’ that Sunday evenin’ me and you could go to Abilene and catch a movie and have dinner together. You say the word and I’ll tell Amos I want the day off.”

“No, thank you.” Cathy shook her head.

“You going to play hard to get and make me work for a date? That don’t seem fair since you told Rocky you and Travis was just good friends. If that’s all you are then why can’t you date me?”

“I’m not playing hard to get but I’m not going out with you,” Cathy said.

Larissa tapped him on the shoulder. “Hi, cowboy. Can you dance?”

“I can dance the leather off them boots you got on, lady, if you’re willin’ to give it a whirl.” He grinned.

“I thought you were shooting eight ball with Merle?” Cathy asked.

“Angel’s got a game going with her until her boyfriend, Garrett, gets here so I’m free for a while. You serious?” Luther asked Larissa.

She wiped the foam from her mouth before she handed the jar to Cathy and motioned for her to put it under the bar for later. “I am very serious.”

The beat of Waylon Jennings singing “Amanda” was conducive to a nice slow two-step and Luther was light on his feet in spite of his enormous bulk. Larissa was a midget compared to him but he was holding her at arm’s length. If he’d have pulled her up to his chest in a chest-to-chest dance, she would have been looking at his belly button.

Cathy watched them dance while she drew up half a dozen beers. Luther wasn’t as handsome as Travis but he wasn’t butt ugly. Travis hadn’t asked her out on Sunday night and Luther had. So why didn’t she go? Dinner and a movie didn’t mean a trip down the aisle and a three-tiered cake. Cathy didn’t feel a bit of remorse or regret. He might be a nice fellow but he could be someone else’s nice fellow.

Rocky was back in the shadows with one of the Fort Worth hussies in his lap. They were either in a serious lip lock or else they’d figured out a new way to share a beer. Tilman and the other Fort Worth hussy were on the dance floor hugged up tightly to each other swaying to a Tammy Wynette tune.

“You been gettin’ any good lovin’?” Jezzy asked when Cathy made her way back down the bar to where she sat.

“Have you?” Cathy shot right back.

“Lord, girl, don’t you ever answer a question?”

“Not if I can get out of it. Go dance with Leroy. He’s gettin’ antsy. Why don’t you marry him?”

“Can’t. I’d feel like I was commitin’ incest on the weddin’ night. He’s always been my big brother. Besides, if I married him we’d kill each other before the honeymoon was over. But I will go dance with him.”

“Stop worryin’ about me and Travis.”

“I’m not worryin’. I just hate to see you pass up something good. Don’t judge him by other men in your life.”

“How’d you know I was?”

“Been there and done that.” Jezzy waved as she crossed the half empty dance floor and made Leroy two-step with her.

Cathy kept check for new customers in the long mirror across the back of the bar as she cleaned a blender. One minute everything was going smooth; the next she looked up into Travis’s clear blue eyes. He smiled and her knees went weak.

“I thought you had to work,” she said without turning around. He still wore his heavy work coat and his cowboy hat was on the bar in front of him.

“I do in half an hour. Thought I’d run by and see how things were going. Looks like Rocky is fixed up for the night. At least he’s down on the end of the lot,” Travis said.

Cathy whipped around to face him. “What’s that mean?”

“Think about it. Ever see that old bumper sticker that says, ‘If this trailer is rockin’, don’t come knockin’?”

“Jealous?” Cathy asked.

“No, ma’am. Not one bit.”

If Rocky had been dancing with Cathy then he would have had to answer yes, definitely. What would it be like to make a trailer rock with Cathy when a tornado wasn’t licking the front porch steps?

“Are you blushing?”

“Yes, ma’am, I am. That remark was crude and I shouldn’t have said it in front of a lady. It’s from workin’ with a bunch of foul-mouthed oil men all the time. Don’t excuse it but it helps explain it. Forgive me,” he said.

She almost dropped the blender pitcher. “Okay.”

He picked up his hat and settled it on his head. “Thank you for that. I’ll be leavin’ now. See you tomorrow. Remember, you promised to keep Luther from laughing.”

“I did not promise you any such thing. I’m a big girl but I’m not big enough to keep Luther from laughing. You ever hear the joke about the five hundred pound gorilla?”

“No, what is it?”

She propped her elbows on the bar. “Okay, tell me where does a five hundred pound gorilla sleep?”

“I have no idea,” Travis said.

“Any damn place he wants to. And that’s the way with Luther. I imagine he laughs any place he wants to laugh.”

“You got that right.” Travis left whistling along to Don Williams singing a song about the hard part being over and the loving part was beginning.

“Yeah, right,” Cathy mumbled. “The hard part ain’t but barely started and I’m not sure the loving part will ever begin.”

“Who are you talkin’ to?” Jezzy asked.

“Myself. I was talkin’ to Don Williams about his song,” she said.

“You’ve got to get laid, girl,” Jezzy said bluntly.

When the Honky Tonk lights started flashing, the noise of slamming pickup and car doors sounded like the first day of deer season. Tinker checked IDs as they filed into the beer joint and Cathy kept the handles down on the draft beer handles as every lusty, thirsty drinker in the whole area bellied up to the bar.

Travis pushed through the swinging doors at the end of the bar. “I’ll take over the beer business. I’m not too good with heavy machinery so I’ll let you run those pesky blenders.”

Cathy made change for a bucket of beers. “Where’d you come from?”

The man took the change and said, “From Dallas, darlin’. We heard this was a good place to party. Some friends of ours are into vintage country and said Monday night was a real hoot. We thought we’d see what was happening when it ain’t vintage.”

“Enjoy your beers.” Cathy looked up at the next customer. “What can I get you?’

“Pitcher of hurricanes and one of piña coladas. You mean Monday is the only night you play the old stuff?”

Cathy nodded at the preppie wearing pleated slacks and a pearl snap western shirt.

“Well, damn! Guess we’ll have to come back on Monday.” He waited on his order and carried it to the table.

Cathy touched Travis’s shoulder. “I was talking to you when I asked where you came from. I figured you got called out to the rig and wasn’t going to work here tonight.”

“Sorry about being late. I was out there at eight o’clock when the lights went on but I couldn’t get through the doors.” He drew up six pints and put them on a tray for a woman wearing barely enough hot pink Spandex and lace to keep her out of jail.

“Thanks, darlin’. You on call after hours to play doctor?” she asked.

“No, ma’am. I flunked out of medical school,” he answered.

“Too bad. I make a real cute nurse. Even got one of them fancy little costumes and a hat.”

“Never was much for nurses,” he said.

“I’m not sure if that was an insult or not, but I’m not going to let you rile me. I’ve got a night out and I’m going to enjoy it.” She carried the tray of beers back to a table where five of her friends waited.

The jukebox was completely hidden with people gathered around it. The new jukebox flashed all its pretty colors and songs went at fifty cents a pop or three for a dollar.

“Been busy out at the rig? Didn’t see you yesterday.” Cathy mixed a pitcher of tequila sunrises.

“I didn’t come in. Caught a few winks of sleep in the pickup. Today I finally got away at five thirty. Took a long shower and a short nap and here I am,” he said.

She put the pitcher and six empty jars on a tray, collected money, and made change. Travis looked more like a bouncer than a bartender in snug fitting Wranglers and boots with a black T-shirt stretched over his broad chest. But his bloodshot eyes behind those thick lenses looked horrible.

She touched his bare arm and said, “Go home and get some sleep. I can handle it or else get Larissa to help if she wanders through the place.”

“And miss all this fun? No thank you. I’ve been waitin’ all week to get behind this bar with you, Cathy O’Dell. I’m not leaving until the last dog has died, the last song has played, and the lights are off. Can you believe she’s trying to run me off, Jezzy? I bet she don’t want to work on Monday mornin’ and if I leave she’ll have an excuse. Can I get you a beer?”

“Hey! I didn’t see you come in. How are things out on the ranch?” Cathy asked.

“I want one of them martinis that Larissa’s been braggin’ up. Why would you try to run Travis off? Looks to me like he’s pretty good help. Besides, every woman in the place is going to be up here orderin’ beer just to get a look at him,” Jezzy said.

“Then why are you orderin’ a martini?”

“Larissa says you make a mean one. Thought I’d give it a try.”

Cathy shook one up while Travis filled Mason jars with beer and bantered with women who kept downing them as fast as he could draw them. Maybe she should redo the billboard out on the highway and put his picture on it wearing that black T-shirt and tight jeans. That alone should bring in half the lusty women in central Texas. Hells bells, it might cause such an uproar that she’d have to knock out the south wall and build a bigger dance floor.

She set the martini in front of Jezzy and waited. Jezzy took a sip and nodded. “Damn good. Used to be my drink of choice back when but that’s a story for another day.”

“Don’t tell me you played billiards in London with Larissa,” Cathy said.

“No, in Paris.” Jezzy laughed.

“You knew her before she moved here?”

“Hell no. I was yankin’ your chain, darlin’. And if it had been in Paris it would have been Paris, Texas. I’m from Bugtussle. McAlester, Oklahoma, was like going to another world to me.”

A fast song put the brave hearted on the floor for a line dance and gave Travis and Cathy a lull behind the bar. They grabbed rags and wiped up spills then refilled the pretzel and peanut bowls. Every time they moved they bumped into each other or brushed against skin. Even a slight touch of fingertips reaching for a dry bar rag generated more passion between them than all the dancing out on the floor.

“Get ready for it,” Cathy said.

“What? To have the woman I love layin’ in my bed like Darius is singing about?” Travis teased.

“Wouldn’t know about that, but I do know that as soon as this one is done there’ll be a beer run. Look at all that sweat.”

“Makes you glad for the smoke, shaving lotion, and perfume, don’t it?”

“Amen,” she answered.

Two slow songs played and a few folks ventured out for two-stepping but the line dancers guzzled beer. Cathy wound up putting the jars on the trays and taking money while Travis used both hands to fill them.

Larissa edged in between two big burly ranchers wearing pearl snap shirts. “Hey, Cathy! When you get time, draw me up a Coors.”

“Want to dance, darlin’?” One of the ranchers touched her shoulder.

“Soon as I get this beer and take a few gulps,” she said.

“He can’t dance. Tell him no and dance with me,” the other one teased.

“Hey, Rissa, you ready to do some two-steppin’?” Luther lumbered across the room.

“Got the next one promised to this feller right here, but you can have the one after that,” she shouted back.

Cathy set her beer on the bar and the fellow on her right quickly paid for it. “Let me buy you that drink, sweetheart. Maybe it’ll convince you to dance all night with me rather than that ox. Bet he’ll step all over your toes.”

“Darlin’, that man could probably do the ballet, he’s so smooth, so don’t be callin’ him an ox. And thanks for the beer but it won’t keep me from dancin’ with Luther,” Larissa said.

Luther stopped at the end of the bar. He towered over everyone on stools and pointed at a quart of Coors that Travis was drawing up. “One of them, please, Miz Cathy.”

She leaned over to tell Travis that the next one belonged to Luther. Her warm breath made his hands so clammy that he had to stop and wipe them on the legs of his jeans before he filled a quart with Coors.

“Getting tired?” she asked.

He put a quart of Coors in her hands and shook his head. Yes, he was tired, but not too tired to want to take her to bed. And yes, he’d caught a whiff of her perfume and he would love a long sexy kiss. He probably wouldn’t be worth a damn for anything more than that anyway.

Larissa led her rancher out to the dance floor and wrapped her arms around his neck. Cathy kept an eye on them to see if the man could dance. He wasn’t too clumsy and Larissa had come a long way from the first night she’d showed up at the Honky Tonk. She’d said that why she was in Mingus was a story for a time when they could sit together and have a long talk. Cathy’s curiosity was piqued to the point that she was eager to hear the story.

Luther drank a fourth of his beer and handed it to Cathy. “Put this under the counter for me. I’ll come back for it soon as me and Rissa get tired. She’s learnin’ fast for a newbie.”

“And I thought you were in love with me. I’m hurt. First filly out of the chute that asks you to dance and I have to take the backseat. You ready to trade me in for her?” Cathy teased.

“Honey, you or that woman—either one is too much woman for old Luther, but it don’t hurt to look at the merchandise or dance with it neither. See you later.” He caught Larissa by the hand as soon as the song ended.

“You like to dance?” Travis asked Cathy.

“Love to but don’t get much chance. All the cowboys go home at two o’clock and I’m damn sure not interested in going to a different joint on my one night off,” she said.

Travis grinned. “Want to dance behind the bar? I’m not a customer. I’m the hired help.”

“Could I get two buckets of beer over here?” the woman in hot pink Spandex and lace asked.

“Guess you don’t have to answer that question,” Travis said.

Rocky waved at Cathy to catch her attention. “Coors in a bottle.”

“Are you just gettin’ here? Your sweet little honey from Wednesday night has been watching the door for you. I was afraid she was going to throw you over for that rancher over there in the blue shirt,” Cathy said.

“Had to clean up after work. Can’t catch a date smellin’ like oil and sweat,” he said.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Betsy sidled up next to him and clamped a hand on his thigh. “I like those two smells just fine, but you look damn fine all cleaned up too. Bring that beer over to our table and we’ll talk about the first thing that pops up.”

Rocky grinned at Cathy. “This is my lucky night.”

“Rockin’ trailer?” Travis whispered in her ear.

She slapped at his biceps with her semi-wet bar rag.

He grabbed the rag midair and used it to pull her to his side. His eyes zeroed in on her lips and were headed in for the kiss when a customer asked for a Jack and Coke.

“That’d be your job,” he whispered.

“Guess it would,” she said. Damn but she’d wanted that kiss even if it was the wrong time and the wrong place.

At closing time Tinker pulled the plug on the jukebox and pointed at the clock. He set his cooler on the bar and tossed his Dr Pepper cans in the trash as the last of the partiers went home.

He picked up the envelope containing his paycheck from behind the cash register. “Been a good week.”

“Best we’ve had since I took over,” Cathy said.

“I’m glad you had some help back there,” he said.

“Me too. Travis did pretty good for a green hand, didn’t he?”

“I reckon he did. See you tomorrow night,” Tinker said.

“I’ll be here,” Cathy said.

Travis looked around at the messy beer joint. “Now what?”

“Grab us each a beer and we prop up our feet. You look like the only crippled chicken at a coyote convention, Travis. Don’t worry. I never clean it up until the next morning, and besides, your end of the bargain didn’t involve sweeping and mopping.”

“Coors?” he asked.

She nodded.

He pulled two out of the ice and carried them to the nearest table. She had already propped her feet up when he handed her a bottle. She downed half of it before she came up with a loud burp.

“Pardon me. My redneck woman gene just surfaced,” she said.

He propped his aching feet up on the table. She was beautiful even at the end of a busy shift. Her ponytail was a little limp, her makeup sweated off, and there was a stain on the front of her shirt. Even after working all night she could have walked down a model’s runway and had every photographer in the joint vying for a picture of her. A hint of cleavage started his testosterone boiling as if he hadn’t been sleep deprived. He looked over at the jukebox.

Maybe a couple of slow ones. Mercy, who would have ever thought that bartending could suck even more energy out of a man than putting up an oil derrick.

He pulled a handful of change from his pocket.

“You don’t pay for your beer after work. It’s part of the deal,” she said.

He set his beer down and headed toward the jukebox. He plugged in the old one and put a quarter in the slot. “Didn’t intend to pay for it.”

Travis walked across the floor and held out his hand to Cathy as Ronnie Milsap started singing a slow ballad.

She slung her feet off the table and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I thought you couldn’t dance.”

“Love to dance but I hate all that crowded business. My idea of dancin’ is two people, one dance floor, one bedroom floor, one big old barn, or even one grassy lawn,” he whispered.

Cathy laid her head on his shoulder and wished she could stay there in his arms for eternity. Brad was the last man who’d held her in his arms for a dance and that had ended in a blaze of fireworks that had nothing to do with passion and everything to do with anger.

He kept her in his arms when the second song started. “I don’t think Mickey Gilley sang ‘City Lights’ first. Wasn’t it Ray Price? My grandpa loved him.”

“My dad did too,” Cathy said. “What’d you pick for your third song?”

“It’s a surprise.” He tipped her chin up and brought her lips to his for a lingering kiss. “Behind Closed Doors” played as the kisses went on and on.

“But I really am too tired to say ‘I want to,’ like Charlie Rich is singing,” Cathy whispered.

He kissed her eyelids and her forehead before going back to her lips. “For tonight this is enough.”

When the song ended he led her back to the table. “Thank you for the dances.”

“You are very welcome, but now it’s my turn.” She removed a quarter from the cash register and headed for the jukebox.

Travis tipped up his bottle of beer and took a long draw. He watched her punch the buttons and use her forefinger to motion him to join her in the middle of the dance floor.

She wrapped her hand around his neck and she moved to “Marie Laveau” by Bobby Bare. He put his hands on her ribs and ran them slowly down the length of her body all the way to her ankles and back up as they kept time to the music. When he reached the top again he whipped her around and put both hands on her shoulders and began something between salsa and dirty dancing.

She’d thought she’d show him a thing or two about dancing, but his hands on her body and his eyes locked with hers made her wonder who the teacher was. When the next song started she whipped a pretend skirt tail around her legs and did a seventies style bee-bop dance to “Bright Lights and Big City” by Sonny James. He stood there with his arms crossed over his chest and a big grin on his face. He reached out and took her hand and spun her around four times. If she’d been wearing a cotton skirt over a big can-can slip, it would have been standing straight out by the time he let her go. He spread out his legs and slung her between them and back again. Then he pulled her into his arms and put one arm around her waist and one on her shoulder to finish the song.