Taking Charge (6 page)

“Turn the jukebox off and start cleaning up. I’ll get
rid of the school kids and the hobo,” Robyn ordered Milo.

“Are the cops really coming because…” Milo began,
looking uncomfortable.

“Milo, do you want to keep your job?” Robyn
questioned.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Then get cleaning up!”

The door opened almost cautiously, and then Robyn
caught sight of Sarah for the first time in nine years.

Her friend seemed taller, but she had the same
familiar dark, wavy hair that sat around her shoulders. She wore a
gray business suit, and black designer glasses rested on her face.
She was an adult. Robyn should have expected it, but hadn’t. Part
of her thought Sarah would still resemble the picture she had in
her head—a sixteen year old student wearing a spaghetti-strapped
sundress and Converse sneakers.

“Hey! About time! I thought I was going to get a
beating from the Hells Angels,” Robyn joked as she smiled at her
friend.

“Robyn! It’s so good to see you!” Sarah said. She
rushed to the bar and put her arms around her friend, hugging her
tightly.

“You too,” Robyn replied, patting her on the
back.

“There were motorcycles roaring up the road. What’s
happened?”

“That was the biker gang. I’ve taken over. You’re
looking at the new manager of Eddie’s Roadhouse!”

“Mickey! Jeez! What have you been feeding him? You’re
so…wide!” Robyn exclaimed as Sarah’s stocky, tawny-haired boyfriend
entered the building.

“Can I take that as a compliment?” Mickey asked
her.

“Of course. Oh, it’s so good to see you!” Robyn said,
smiling at her friends.

“Listen, we ran into…” Sarah began as the entrance
door opened again.

Before Sarah could finish her sentence, Brad walked
into the bar. Robyn felt her stomach tighten as she looked at a
taller, more muscular version of the boy she had left behind. He
was still athletic in build, but had filled out a lot since high
school. He was broader, and his blond hair was shaved close to his
head. His eyes were still as blue as the ocean, though, and he
smiled the second he saw her.

“…Brad,” Sarah finished as he walked up to the bar to
join them.

“Hey,” Brad greeted, looking at Robyn with something
close to admiration in his expression.

“Hey, wow, everyone must eat a lot of greens around
here, you’ve all gotten massive,” Robyn stated, her cheeks
flushing.

“Whereas you don’t look any different,” Brad said,
smiling bashfully.

“That’s because I’m not different, at all. Just the
same old Robyn! God, well, this is so weird,” Robyn said.

“Where’s Nancy? Is she here?” Sarah asked, setting
the pizzas down on the countertop.

“She left with the biker gang, temporarily, I expect.
She didn’t seem like the type of woman to take things lying down.
Well, perhaps some things, if you know what I mean, but I don’t
want to think about that. Anyway, now all I need to do is get rid
of the sleeping tramp and the teenagers. Who wants to help? There’s
a Bud in it for you,” Robyn offered.

“Just one?” Mickey asked.

“Okay, a pitcher then. This is my dad’s profits we’re
talking about.”

“Leave it to us,” Brad assured her, and he headed off
toward the group of teenagers who were now sitting down playing
Spin the Bottle.

Robyn let out a heavy sigh and took a long swig from
her bottle of beer.

“It’s so good to see you, but we could have met
somewhere nicer. This place smells really bad,” Sarah remarked,
opening up a pizza box and taking out a slice.

“I know,” Robyn answered.

“And it’s really dirty. I mean, I don’t know if I
really want to even have a drink here,” Sarah continued.

“I know.”

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay, you’re right. The place is wrecked,”
Robyn admitted.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to clean it, decorate it, and re-launch
it,” Robyn informed her.

“That’s going to be a hell of a job,” Sarah
replied.

“I know, but hey, I’ve got nothing else to do,” Robyn
answered with a half-hearted smile.

“I can’t tell you how good this pizza is. I mean, in
England they have loads of pizza restaurants, but they just don’t
taste like this,” Robyn said as she ate her third slice of
pepperoni thick crust.

Milo had cleaned up the empties from the floor and
started the dishwasher, before Robyn had dismissed him until the
following day. He was still shaking when he left, but seemed
grateful he still had a job. She didn’t think a little fear of your
boss was a bad thing.

Now the three friends were eating pizza and sharing a
pitcher of beer. It was just like old times and Robyn couldn’t stop
smiling. It was her gang, back together again.

“So you still love food, that’s obvious,” Brad said,
watching Robyn eat.

“Oh God yeah! Pam and Bob took me to the Old Country
Buffet after they picked me up from the airport. Oh man, that place
has just got better, if that’s possible,” Robyn remarked.

“Her accent’s coming back, have you noticed that?
Three beers and half a pizza and it’s back,” Mickey said with a
laugh.

“It’s so good to see you,” Robyn said.

“You’ve said that five times now,” Sarah told
her.

“So? Come on, tell me what I’ve missed. Who’s doing
what? Who’s dating who? Who’s feuding? I want to know everything,”
Robyn said energetically.

“We’re still dating,” Mickey announced with a laugh,
snaking an arm around Sarah.

“We’re hardly dating. We live together,” Sarah
reminded with a tut.

“But you still go on dates. Look at you! Pizza at
Eddie’s Roadhouse,” Robyn said.

“Yeah, it’s pizza vouchers and a burger at the Texas
Ranch House if we’re lucky,” Sarah announced with a sigh.

“There ain’t nothing wrong with pizza and burgers,
and you gotta love the discounted ones,” Mickey said.

“Things aren’t so good here right now, Robyn. You
know, economically,” Brad informed her.

“Yeah, well, I know. It’s like that the whole world
over.”

“People aren’t going out as much as before or buying
houses…especially buying houses,” Sarah said with another sigh.

“Come on, how many you sold this week?” Robyn asked,
wanting to know.

“This week? None! This whole month only four. Things
are quiet.”

“Well, what about hockey? How many spectators on
average per game?” Robyn asked.

“Approximately one hundred and thirty-four last
game,” Mickey told her.

“There was no approximately about it. We counted
them,” Brad added.

“No!” Robyn couldn’t believe it. “We used to have a
crowd of at least a thousand every week!”

“Not for a long time. To be honest, we’re not sure
how long the town’s going to have a hockey team,” Brad told
her.

“You’re kidding me? Things are that bad?”

“We’ve only got a squad of ten,” Mickey added.

“Guys, what’s been going on?! A squad of ten! How did
this happen? And why hasn’t Bob told me this?” Robyn said in
horror.

“We lost a lot and missed out on promotion. Some of
the guys went to play for other teams, and when Eddie got sick we…”
Brad began.

“That’s it, I’ve heard enough. Can you tell everyone
to meet at the arena tomorrow night? We need to strategize and get
things back on track,” Robyn said. She tugged hard at her ponytail
and nodded her head.

“Well, Grant’s been kind of managing the team since
Eddie went into hospital and…” Mickey started.

“I know he has and he barely knows the difference
between hooking and roughing,” Robyn announced.

“He’s done his best and he’s a good guy,” Mickey
replied.

“Yeah, course he is,” Robyn answered in an
unconvincing manner.

“I don’t think he has much contact with Jason
anymore,” Sarah spoke up.

Robyn felt her stomach contract, and a shiver ran
over her whole body. She fought the urge to show any emotion and
tightened her grip on her beer glass. She’d been here a good few
hours but it was inevitable his name would come up sooner or
later.

“We don’t need to talk about him tonight. Robyn’s
just come home for Christ’s sake!” Brad blasted. He slammed his
beer glass down onto the bar top.

“Sorry, I just…you can’t blame Grant for what Jason
did and…” Sarah began.

“I don’t blame Grant,” Robyn piped up.

She let out a breath to try and compose herself.
She’d said the words, but she didn’t know if they were true. She
wanted them to be, but perhaps she was fooling herself.

“I just don’t think he’s the best person to manage
the team, that’s all,” she finished.

“Well, I think you’re exhausted and jetlagged. I
don’t think you should be worrying about the hockey team right now.
You should concentrate on spending some time with Eddie,” Brad
said, changing the subject.

“Did that already, right after the Old Country
Buffet. He’s still the same arrogant, pigheaded, stubborn ass he
always was. No, I need something else to focus on—the roadhouse and
the hockey team. Tomorrow night, at seven, can you do that? Can you
get everyone there?” Robyn asked Brad and Mickey.

“Sure,” Mickey agreed with a nod.

“Good. So, who’s the best person to get in to
redecorate this place? Does Old Man Harrison still do painting and
stuff?” Robyn asked.

“Oh Robyn, Old Man Harrison died,” Sarah informed
her.

“He did?”

“Yes, it was about what? Five years ago?” Sarah asked
the two men.

“Something like that,” Mickey agreed.

“But who has the annual town barn dance now? Pam
always made pumpkin pie, and I could never remember the steps to
any of the dances and…why didn’t she tell me? I always rode his
pony and…” Robyn started, her eyes welling up with tears.

“Okay, I think it’s time you went home. The veil of
jetlag is finally descending,” Brad said, taking the beer glass
from her hand and helping her down from the stool.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me about Old Man Harrison? I
mean, I was only in England, we have phones there and the internet
and…what happened to Bessie the tractor?” Robyn questioned.

“She’s still going. Come on, I’ll give you a ride,”
Brad said, coaxing her toward the door.

“But I need to lock up. Shit, I don’t have keys! I
don’t have keys to my own roadhouse!” Robyn screeched.

“Don’t worry about it. We can get the locks changed
in the morning. Night guys,” Brad called as he pushed open the
door.

“I’m not tired. Sarah, I’ll call you tomorrow and
we’ll maybe go for lunch or go and see if we can find a decorating
firm. Or maybe I could do it myself. Do they still do paint in
Wal-Mart?” Robyn called as Brad hurried her out of the
roadhouse.

“Night Robyn,” Sarah called with a giggle.

“She hasn’t changed,” Mickey remarked with a
smile.

“Nice ride,” Robyn said as Brad drove his
expensive-looking station wagon up the street toward Pam and Bob’s
home.

“Thank you.”

“So, you’ve gone all lawman on us,” Robyn
continued.

“Yep. It’s been six years next month.”

“Well good for you. Never would have thought it,
but…”

“What did you think I’d be doing?” Brad asked,
glancing at her as he drove.

“I don’t know, captaining an NHL team or playing for
the Yankees or something.”

“I wish.”

“Do you?”

“Maybe, I don’t know. Your expectations change when
you grow up, don’t they?” Brad replied.

“Yep, didn’t think I’d be back here helping out Dad.
Didn’t think I’d ever be back here to be honest,” Robyn said.

“So, what’s England like? What do you do there?” Brad
asked her.

“This and that,” she replied.

“That’s evasive.”

“It’s different. It isn’t like here. I’m an office
manager for a motor company,” Robyn informed him.

“You’re shitting me! A manager!” Brad exclaimed with
a laugh.

“Why are you laughing? I’ve always been good at
organizing and I’ve always been good with cars. It’s the perfect
job for me.”

“There is no way you would prefer sitting in an
office to having your head underneath a hood,” Brad answered.

“Well, given the tough economic climate, I had to opt
for the job that was going to pay the most,” Robyn told him.

It was as close to the truth as she was going to
give. She answered the phone, she made appointments, and she did
the filing. But all the while, she gazed into the workshop, envying
the mechanics covered in grease, their hands in the engine of the
latest job. It was all she could do not to roll up the sleeves of
the blouse Clive had bought her from Saks and climb under the hood
of a car on her lunch hour. But she knew Clive would hate that.

“My, my, Robyn Matthers the office girl,” Brad
teased.

“Brad Willis the cop sounds more ridiculous to be
honest,” Robyn replied with a scowl.

“I’m not so sure.”

“Sorry to hear about you and Michelle. I mean, I
never really liked her much, she always called me Bobby and said
she would rather die than wear jeans, but Pam says you were dating
a long time before she ran off with…” Robyn began.

“Randy Dennis. Yeah, Randy Dennis, the ugliest kid in
school,” Brad interrupted.

“That surgery he had must have been pretty
extensive.”

“Yeah, right,” Brad agreed with a sigh.

“Plenty more fish in the sea, right? No point looking
back when forward’s the only way you can go,” Robyn said.

“So they say. So, are you dating?” Brad asked.

“Nope, too busy being an office girl.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Believe it!”

“I can’t imagine you’re short of male admirers
working in a garage, though. All that testosterone and having to
look at a pretty manager all day.”

“Most of them are over forty and married.”