Seth made a choking noise.
Gazing into his eyes, she saw the same pain reflected there that had been in her heart. Though it hurt like hell, she firmed her tone. Spoke louder. “I wouldn’t do that, Seth. And I didn’t.”
“Genevieve, I didn’t even know you were pregnant.”
Oh, it was so hard to hear him call her that. “We’d broken up.”
“That doesn’t matter. You should—”
No way was he going to Monday-morning quarterback her. “No, you listen to me. You may not remember how things were between us, but we were like fire and ice. Like oil and water.”
He grunted. “More like kerosene and a match.”
“Exactly. Things between us would simply combust. We argued and fought and would break up for a couple of days …”
“Then we’d hook up again and be together for a while.”
“And then we’d break up again after saying a lot of things we couldn’t take back.” Before he could counter her statement, she said, “Do you remember our last fight?”
Slowly, he nodded. “It was bad, though I don’t even remember what it was about.”
“That night—just before I ran out of your place—we both swore that we were over. For once and for all.”
He shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “Is that when you found out?”
She nodded. “I started feeling bad a couple of days after that fight. A little nauseous, a little off. At first, I thought I had the flu. But it lingered. Then, one night, it all clicked, and I got myself to the store and bought a test.”
“You should have told me.”
“I was going to, and I would’ve, Seth.” Pushing back all the doubts, all the hurts, she cleared her throat. “You probably don’t remember, but you were out of town. In Kimball or Tyler, maybe? One of your buddies was having a bachelor party.”
He blinked. “I was at Lake Cumberland. I remember.” After another pause, he said, “And then I had to go to Nashville for work.”
“We’d gotten in that argument, and it was only two weeks later. There was no way I was going to call you and tell you the news over the phone. Can you even imagine?”
He looked down at his polished boots. “Hell, Gen, I might not have even picked up. I was so stupid then, always flying off the handle.”
She was tempted to point out that their current conversation wasn’t showing that he’d changed all that much.
Still looking at him intently, she said, “I figured when you got back I’d give you a call. I needed a couple of days to get my head around the news. I reckoned by the time you got back I’d be calmer. Then, it wouldn’t be so difficult to tell you the news.”
“What happened?”
“The baby didn’t make it that long.” Each word felt like a shard of glass being pulled out of her, leaving her cut and hurting.
But though even thinking about that time brought so much pain, she forced herself to continue. If nothing else, Seth needed to know the truth, and she needed to be the one to tell him.
Heck, maybe even a part of her needed him to see her pain. “I realized I was pregnant on a Thursday. On Saturday morning, I started bleeding. Scared, I drove myself to the emergency room. When they checked me out, the doctor said I’d miscarried.” She drew a breath, realizing that she would have been proud of herself for sharing the story so succinctly—if every word hadn’t felt like another bullet hole in her heart.
“You had to drive yourself to the hospital?”
Seth’s voice was soft, reminding her that even though they’d fought like cats and dogs, he’d always hated that she hadn’t had a decent family to have her back.
“There wasn’t anyone else. You know that.”
He closed his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
“Me, too. And … well, I’m sorry I lost our baby.”
He reached out and gripped her hand. He held her firmly, just like he used to. “It wasn’t your fault.”
She nodded. Forced herself to speak about it some more. “I know that now. It was hard and a shock … but my body knew that something was wrong. There wasn’t anything I could have done.” Her voice drifted off as she pulled away from him and sat down. She hated to remember the conversation even now. The doctor had been sympathetic but almost clinical in her description.
A couple of hours later, she’d gone back to her car and driven home, feeling numb and alone. So very alone.
“I still wish you would have called me. No matter what had happened between us, I would’ve dropped everything and been there.”
Maybe the man he was now would have. But the person he was back then? She just wasn’t so sure. But even if she had called him, he wouldn’t have been able to be there.
And, well, she just wasn’t sure that him knowing would have made things easier. Things between them had been so toxic.
She shrugged. “Seth, tell you what? We weren’t in a good place. And when we did cross paths almost a month later, it was pretty obvious that it was just as painful for you as it was for me. We didn’t have anything left.”
He walked closer. Then, to her surprise, he crouched down, placing himself eye level with her. “I’m sorry.”
Those two words meant more than he would ever know. This whole time, it had been her secret. She hadn’t told anyone. Not her girlfriends, not her family. It hadn’t felt right to tell anyone about the miscarriage before him and she hadn’t been able to bring herself to tell him.
After a few months passed, she even almost convinced herself that her pain had been her overreacting. “Why would Valerie go and tell you I had an abortion? Why would she be talking about me in the first place? This was almost two years ago.”
“I don’t know, but I intend to find out.” His voice hardened. “Besides her being flat-out wrong, she shouldn’t have been sharing patient information. I’m going to speak to the administrator over there.”
“I hope you do. I hate the thought of her talking about all the patients like that.”
“Me, too. I’ll get some answers.”
“If you learn something, let me know, okay? I promise, Seth, I never told anyone.”
“As soon as I discover why she did what she did, I’ll tell you. I’m sorry, Gen.”
She was, too.
Suddenly, she was so tired. She felt weepy, too. The last thing she wanted to do was go back to work. Rubbing her temples, she tried to tell herself that she could worry about this conversation later.
But she knew that was a lie.
“I’m going to go home,” she said.
He nodded. “Want me to drive you?”
“Thanks, but I’ve got it. I hate leaving Jackson in the lurch, but I just can’t …”
“I’ll tell him you had to leave. And then I’ll offer to work behind the bar if he needs help.”
“What?”
“Hand me your keys. I’ll stay here and lock up, then meet you here in the morning or you can call me, and I’ll bring the keys to your house.”
“Seth, you don’t need to do that.”
“You know what? I think I really do.” Dragging a hand through his dark-brown hair, he continued. “My only other option is to go sit in a hotel room and I can’t do that. Even if you don’t know me anymore, I think you know that I can work a bar as well as anyone.”
She didn’t know why she didn’t even consider arguing, but she just got to her feet, rooted through her desk drawer, and pulled out a thick ring of keys. “I would stand here and tell you what’s what, but I don’t think I can even do that right now.”
“I’ll figure it out. Your employees will help me, too. Go on, Gen.” His voice was hoarse. In that moment she realized that while they may never find love again, he now had a better idea about the type of person she was.
The type of woman she’d always be
en.
She looked at him. Almost yearning to beg him to see that she was different now, too. But she couldn’t even do that.
Instead, she opened another drawer, pulled out her purse, pulled her car keys out of that, and walked to her door. “Thanks,” she said simply.
Pain flickered in his eyes. “Don’t thank me for this, Gen. Just go on home and rest, okay?”
She smiled tightly before walking outside. It was the first night in memory that she was going home before eight o’clock. For once, she didn’t even care.
CHAPTER 11
From Les Larke’s
You, Too, Can Host
a Poker Tourney:
In order to host a successful tournament, it helps to know the game. If you aren’t sure of your poker skills, I suggest you read one of my other books. Or even watch a few videos.
Saturday
When Seth returned to the bar with a weary look on his face, Jackson feared something bad had happened between him and Gen.
When he realized Gen wasn’t following, he knew it.
“Where’s Gen?” he asked, hoping he sounded more relaxed than he felt. “Is she on her way out?”
“Ah, no. She had to go home,” Seth replied, each word sounding like it was being torn from him. “I’m going to help out.”
She’d left? The woman was a workaholic and loved this bar. She never just took off. “What happened?” he asked as he stepped forward into the guy’s space.
But instead of looking angry, Seth’s expression turned even more devastated. “I can’t talk about it.”
He realized then that Seth hadn’t hurt her. No, he was hurting just as much as Gen had to be. “Is she okay?”
Seth sighed. For a moment Jackson thought he wasn’t going to answer. Then he shrugged. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t know. I think so.” Looking around the bar like he’d never seen one before, he muttered, “Where do you want me?”
On another night, Jackson would’ve told Seth to just head on home. But the place was packed. He needed to start serving up drinks and helping out Kimmy and Brad before they up and quit. He pointed to the gate at the back of the bar. “Come on back. Want to tend the tap?”
“Yeah, that’s fine. But I can do more than pour beer.”
“Good to know. For now, pour beer and wine and try to keep up with the tabs. Get Kimmy and Brad to help you.”
“Got it.”
Though his mind was still on Gen, Jackson forced himself to remember that she’d hired him to tend her bar, not worry about her personal problems. Pulling himself together, he smiled at the trio of women who’d been waiting impatiently. “Sorry, ladies, what can I get you?”
“Two glasses of merlot and one Truth on tap.”
Jackson looked at Seth. “You get that?”
“I think so. Repeat it though.”
He barely refrained from clenching his teeth. “Two glasses of the house merlot. Pour one draft.” He gestured to the bottles behind the bar in the hopes that would be enough.
Luckily Seth nodded and got his head in the game. Turning back to the women he said, “New guy will have y’all taken care of in just a minute.”
The brunette with the credit card smiled. “Thanks.”
“Anytime, darlin’,” Seth drawled as he glanced at the next person in line. “What will you have?”
“Bourbon on ice. Woodford Reserve.”
“Gotcha.” Glancing Jackson’s way, he muttered, “Settle down. I’ve got this.”
It seemed he did. Nodding in his direction, Jackson turned to the next customer.
For the next half hour, it continued. He took orders, grinned at the ladies, and talked sports and weather with the men. When he realized Seth was doing much the same thing and didn’t look frazzled, he began to relax. It seemed the guy knew his way around a bar after all.
When he finally took a break, Jackson looked over at Kimmy, who had just come with an order and was waiting for Seth to fill it.
Just as Jackson was about to offer to fill it, he saw that Seth was still doing just fine. He worked with ease, no longer hesitating as he poured drafts, pulled out beer bottles from the cooler, and searched for wine. He was talking to Kimmy and grinning at one of the customers chatting with him over the counter.
Jackson breathed another sigh of relief. They were going to get through the night after all.
Another hour passed, then two.
Finally, around a quarter after twelve, things began to slow down. Kimmy finally took her break. Melissa had shown up around eight and had taken over the outside patio. Brad had just come through, checking stock and ice. Jackson washed some glasses as he watched Seth finish filling a couple’s order.
When the couple turned away, he said, “Thanks for filling in. You’re doing a great job.”
Seth laughed as he picked up two empty bottles and tossed them in the recycle bin. “It’s been crazy. Is it always like this?”
“On a Saturday night? Pretty much.”
“I don’t know how Gen does it.”
“If you saw her in action you wouldn’t wonder. She treats everything in here like it matters. Plus, she’s been tending bar for most of her life.” Realizing he sounded condescending, he added, “Course, I guess you know that.”
“I knew she knew her way around a bar, but I didn’t realize she did this every night. She managed a burger place back in Lubbock. Things moved slower there.”
“Well, this is how it usually is.”
“So it’s crazy busy.”
“Yep.”
“Damn. No wonder she said she’s always exhausted.”
For some reason, Seth’s appreciation of Gen’s skills made him thaw a little toward the guy. “I thought the same thing when I first started working.”
“You struggled a bit?”
“No. I struggled a lot. Serving bar is a whole lot harder than I thought.” Shaking his head at the memory, Jackson said, “The first night I knocked over a tray of wine glasses and got every other order wrong. I thought she was going to fire me two hours in.”
Seth grinned. “I guess you got better?”
Jackson shrugged. “I’m almost adequate now,” he said before making another round of drinks for two couples who were sitting at the far end of the bar. “It turns out that I just had to take the time to learn a new skill.”
Thinking about what the guy said, and how his voice sounded like he was both frustrated by his problems and had also come to terms with it, Seth was reminded again that he wasn’t the only person in the crowded bar harboring secrets.
Soon Brad went on break and Kimmy returned. During the next hour, Kimmy started chatting more with the customers and running back and forth less. Glancing at the clock, Jackson saw it was already past one.
“When will you shut it down?”
“Gen usually starts last call around one-thirty or one unless it’s a special occasion.” After seeing another group of people exit, he made a decision. “I’m thinking we might as well do last call in fifteen or twenty minutes.”
“Sounds good.”
“While we’ve got a lull, do me a favor and work on the glasses.” They had a dishwasher in the back, too, but it saved time and energy to wash as much glassware at the bar sink as possible.
To his surprise, Seth pulled out the dish soap and started washing and rinsing glasses like he’d spent the day before doing the same damn thing.
Jackson reminded himself that he shouldn’t have expected any less. Not everyone looked like their history—and he sure as hell knew that not everyone got away with doing the job they’d planned on doing.
After filling one of the waitress’ orders—three drafts and a Bacardi and Coke—Jackson picked up a cloth and started drying. It didn’t take long to realize that one of them wasn’t near as quick as the other at maneuvering
glassware.
“Gen told me you haven’t been working here long.”
“Yeah. Just a couple of months.” Figuring that he might as well share a little more, he added, “I’m new in town.”
“Yeah?”
Jackson nodded. “Moved to Bridgeport from a small town in West Virginia.”
“What do you think of Bridgeport?”
“It’s better than I thought it would be.”
Seth smiled. “If you didn’t think it was gonna be good, why’d you move?”
He waited, hating to share too much of his backstory. Not because he didn’t like talking about Beth, but it always seemed to take people off guard. “After my wife died, I lost my job.”
Seth turned to him and examined him more closely.
“Damn. That’s rough. I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.”
Seth rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “Sorry if I pried. I seem to be having a problem with assuming no one else has ever had to deal with something difficult.”
“No need to apologize. If I didn’t want to say anything, I wouldn’t. But I started realizing a couple of months ago that holding everything in wasn’t exactly doing me any favors.”
Seth looked at him again for a long moment. Then, like the sight of an eagle flying overhead out of nowhere, he smiled.
A full-on grin.
“What did I say?”
“Oh, it ain’t you. It’s more like what you just said hit home. I came here to hash out some things with Gen. You might have noticed that I was plenty ticked off with her?”
Because it seemed the guy needed an answer, Jackson nodded as he picked up another wine glass and ran a towel along its inside.
Seeming gratified that Jackson had even given him that, Seth said, “Tonight I realized that we should’ve brought out everything in the open a while back. Like maybe eighteen months ago.”
“Letting things stew has never worked out well for me.”
“Not for me, either. I’ve been stupid, and what’s even worse is that I knew better, too. And if I would have listened to myself and actually tried to think of her needs instead of mine, I could have saved myself a lot of trouble.” Mumbling to himself, he said, “Would’ve made things a whole lot easier for Gen, too.”
Hold on Tight Page 8
