Hold on Tight

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  Even Brad at the door had gotten an earful for not checking some regulars’ IDs. It was only eleven o’clock, too. At this rate none of them were going to make it through the night without saying something back.

  Jackson, for one, was nearing the end of his patience.

  “You need to say something to her, Jackson,” Kimmy said as she loaded up a tray of drinks. “If she doesn’t try to be a little nicer real soon, I swear I’m going to take off.”

  “You wouldn’t leave me to pick up the slack, would you?”

  “I might.” She leaned both elbows on the bar, giving him a pretty good idea of why she wore those snug low-cut T-shirts. He wasn’t interested in flirting with her, but even he would have taken a second look at her if he’d been simply there hanging out. She was a pretty thing, there was no denying that.

  But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to tease her a little bit. “Kimmy, if you run out of here and leave me to deal with Gen bitching about your work ethic, I’ll reconsider picking up your hours when you go on vacation in two weeks.”

  “Oh, man. I need that vacation.” Tossing her ponytail, she said, “All right, how about this, then? If she doesn’t stop chewing on me in front of all the customers, I’m going to tell her what she can do with her advice.”

  “I’d settle for sticking a bar of Ivory soap in her mouth,” Melissa grumbled as she approached the bar. “Two drafts, three Bud lights, and a Heineken.”

  Jackson started pouring drafts. “You still getting it too, Melissa?” Her complaints surprised him. The server was about three years older than him and a whole lot more experienced working at a bar. She’d had the patience of a saint with him his whole first week.

  Melissa blew out a blast of hot air. “Oh, yeah. Gen has been evil. I don’t know what’s gotten up her butt, but I wish it would leave.”

  “Ouch.” He placed all the beers on her tray. “Tab good?” He asked, checking at the table’s bill.

  “Yep. It’s one of the guys’ birthday. I overheard them say that one of their wives was going to pick them up in two hours.”

  As the door opened and another group of people entered, Kimmy pushed back from the bar. “Looks like my night ain’t over yet after all, Jack. Wish me luck.”

  “You don’t need it. Thanks for not leaving me.”

  Melissa chuckled. “Don’t worry, Jackson. There’s no way either of us is going to do a thing to get on your bad side. We need you here too much.”

  Jackson grinned. “Nicest thing I’ve heard all night.” Watching Melissa lift the tray and then navigate the way through the crowd, Jackson wiped down the counter. Two or three of the newcomers were heading his way. He’d bet a dollar they were going to sit at the bar with him.

  “We’ve got a full bar here tonight, Koch. Your job is to serve drinks, not stand around and talk,” Gen blurted as she joined him behind the counter.

  Huh. Maybe Kimmy wasn’t the one they had to worry about leaving early. “Why are you back here? Do you have an order for me?”

  Her jaw tightened. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Wow. If anything, she’d gotten worse. From the periphery, he caught Kimmy’s meaningful look. Damn. He really didn’t want to get into this. “Nothing … except that you don’t seem like yourself tonight.”

  “And how is that?”

  “You’re usually calmer. Less mean.”

  “Maybe you should stop worrying about me and start worrying about your own self.”

  “I will. As soon as I can do my job without worrying about you getting in my face about every little thing. Now, what’s wrong?”

  Just as it looked like she might actually tell him, the four empty seats filled up and Kimmy came with two tables’ worth of drink orders. He and Gen shifted into work mode and began filling orders and methodically ringing up tickets.

  By mutual agreement, he concentrated on Kimmy’s orders while Gen poured bourbon and drafts for the two men and the woman who had sat down.

  As Melissa approached, and then Kimmy came on her heels, Jackson didn’t think about anything other than the job he’d been hired to do. By his side, Gen’s posture eased as she settled into a rhythm. Little by little her mood lightened, and she started smiling more and even chatting a little bit with a couple of the regulars.

  An hour passed. Then another. Both Kimmy and Melissa started smiling more as they all realized that as difficult as the night had been the tips were good and their wallets were going to be fuller.

  By the time Gen called last call and the customers were filing out and Brad was calling Ubers, Jackson was only thinking about how long it was going to take him to mop the floors and wipe down the counters.

  That was why when Gen finally answered his question, it caught him off guard.

  “I had a great time with Seth today,” she said, quietly. “That’s what was wrong.”

  “If you had a good time, why are you in such a mood?”

  “We talked a lot about some things we should have talked about months ago. He apologized, and I did, too.”

  He still wasn’t following. But instead of asking another question, he said, “Beth and me used to do stuff like that.” Forcing himself to think about their daily lives, and how things used to be, he added, “We had known each other so long that sometimes we took it for granted.”

  “How can you take that for granted?”

  “We would assume the other person knew what we were thinking. Or that an apology was understood, not needed to be said.” He shook his head, remembering one argument that had started out because he’d left his work clothes on the bathroom floor and it ended because she’d gone out and bought a new purse without telling him. “It was stupid, the things that we used to focus on.”

  “It’s not stupid if it matters.”

  “You’re exactly right. If it matters, then it’s not stupid at all. But later, after she got sick and we had a little-bitty Kate? I started realizing that even some of the most ‘important’ things weren’t really all that important.”

  “Do you think I should forgive Seth and move on?”

  “We both know I can’t answer that for you.”

  “But?”

  “But, speaking from someone who would give a lot to be able to have one more day with Beth—I suggest you focus more on what you want. Seth in your life or out of it.”

  She bit down on her bottom lip. “That’s the problem, Jackson. I’m pretty sure I want him in it.”

  He nodded. “Then accept that fact and move on.”

  “To hell with the consequences?” She raised an eyebrow.

  He realized that she was offering him a challenge. That she was fairly sure he was full of it and didn’t have any problem putting him back in his place.

  But he knew for this, at least, he had the right words to say. “Honey, don’t you see? Everything has consequences. Every single little thing.”

  She stared at him in shock.

  Brad closed the door and locked it. “Bar’s closed.”

  “Hallelujah,” Kimmy muttered, taking off her apron and bringing her card and tips over to Gen.

  Melissa did the same, looking exhausted. “What a night.”

  Gen took everything. “I’ll have y’all’s tips ready in ten minutes or so. You all did great tonight. Thanks for putting up with me.”

  Kimmy stayed silent, but Melissa said, “Are you feeling better now?”

  “Yeah. I’ve been wrestling with something today, something that I wasn’t sure I needed to do. But after talking to Jackson, I think I made my mind up.”

  “Glad I could help,” Jackson walked around the bar. “Care to tell us about it?”

  “Not yet. But when I’m ready to share, you’ll be one of the first to know.”

  CHAPTER 29

  From Les Larke’s

  You
, Too, Can Host

  a Poker Tourney:

  If possible, choose your poker partners with care. The last thing you want is for your uncle Joe to turn into a rowdy, drunk buffoon.

  Just like he’d done every time Jackson had ever sat in on a game, Kurt Holland stood up, lifted a bottle of Budweiser in the air, and announced, “The first rule of the Bridgeport Poker Tournament is that there aren’t any rules.”

  While the guys at his table groaned, Kurt grinned. “Just be cool, okay? Play fair, have a good time, and remember that this time all our hard work is going to go for something better than just bragging rights.”

  Jackson smiled to himself as the guy on his right began dealing cards. This felt right. Everything about it did. Sure, everyone liked getting together, having a few beers, and having a good time. But there was a new sense of determination in the air. All of them were glad to make a difference in a kid’s life tonight.

  As they started tossing in chips and betting, Vince, an older neighbor of Kurt’s, looked around the table. “Anyone know who this kid is that we’re helping?”

  One of the guys sitting across from him replied. “All I know is it’s a middle school boy who wants to play ball.”

  Vince frowned. “What kind of ball? Football?”

  Jackson glanced his way. “Does it matter?”

  “No. Not really, I guess. But aren’t you curious? It would be nice to know who we’re helping out.”

  “I heard it’s baseball,” Cameron Miller said. “And that the poor kid’s mom is a maid.”

  “I hope he’s a good kid,” Vince said. “I’d like to know that our money is going for a good one.”

  That comment grated on his nerves. Before he took the time to think about it, Jackson said, “Every other time I’ve been here everyone’s bet money for no other reason than they were glad to have something to do on a Saturday night. I don’t know why the kid’s character has to come into play now.”

  Two of the guys’ eyebrows lifted.

  “You know something we don’t know, Jackson?” Cameron asked.

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?” Vince asked. “You sound awfully defensive for a guy who is as in the dark as the rest of us.”

  “I’m not defensive. I’m just making a point that the boy’s name is supposed to be kept out of it. I don’t think we should start guessing who it is.”

  “That’s fair enough,” Cameron said as he picked up cards and dealt four of the guys another card.

  Vince didn’t look like he agreed, but he kept his silence. Something that Jackson was very glad about. He took another sip of his beer and settled in. Glad that the focus was finally off the mystery beneficiary and more on the actual game.

  “Call,” Cameron said.

  More chips were tossed into the center and the cards were dealt. Finally, ten minutes later, there were only three of them still playing, Jackson, Vince, and a redheaded guy just out of college.

  “Fold,” the kid said.

  “A pair of eights,” Vince said.

  “Three tens,” Jackson said with a grin as the rest of the guys at the table groaned and tossed down their cards.

  “You’re on fire tonight. Looks like you’re playing for a cause,” Vince said as he pushed the pile of chips Jackson’s way.

  “I’ve just gotten lucky with the cards. You know how that goes.”

  Vince nodded as he grabbed a handful of pretzels from an open sack on the table. “I do, but you seem more focused than usual.”

  Jackson figured Vince wasn’t wrong. He didn’t care about winning tonight as much as making sure the games went well. “I guess I am.”

  As they stood up and walked around to their next tables, Vince held out his hand. “I hope you didn’t take anything I said too personally, Jackson. I was just making conversation.”

  “No reason for me to take it personally,” Jackson said.

  Vince didn’t look like he believed him, but Jackson didn’t really care. All that mattered was that money was flowing and with a lot of luck, by the end of the night Dani was going to have something less to worry about.

  As the games continued and the hour grew later, more and more of the guys opted out in the general game and either hung around to see who the night’s winner was or played in the cash game. The donation jars that were scattered around the garage got fuller and fuller.

  Jackson made it to the final table but had terrible cards and ended up getting out right away.

  Ace, who was still playing, looked over at him and shrugged. “Sorry about that, buddy.”

  Jackson shrugged. He didn’t care about himself, only about how much the tournament was going to help Dani. “Can’t do anything about the cards.”

  As the game continued, he noticed that Kurt’s garage was filling up with old chip bags, assorted cans and bottles, and a couple of ashtrays of cigar butts. Realizing he was too keyed up to sit still, he grabbed a black garbage bag from a back shelf and started cleaning up.

  Just as he was taking a full bag to the trash can outside, Kurt walked up to him.

  “Any reason you decided to start cleaning up?”

  “Yeah. This place is a mess.”

  Kurt chuckled. “Yep. That about covers it.” He held open the side door so Jackson could walk out. “Seriously, are you worried about how everything’s going to go down?”

  “A little bit. This means something to me, you know?”

  “I know.” Taking the bag from Jackson, he tossed it into the can and closed the lid. “I keep realizing I’d do most anything to make Em happy. Last week, I went to some Shakespeare play with her in downtown Cincinnati.”

  Jackson couldn’t help but grin. “I didn’t even know you knew who that guy was.”

  “I knew, though I couldn’t have named one thing that the guy wrote.”

  “But you still went.”

  “Yep. Emily’s a fan, which means I need to at least learn to appreciate the guy’s work.”

  “What play did you see? Romeo and Juliet?”

  “You know some of Shakespeare’s work?”

  Jackson laughed. “I’m not real smart but I know at least that.”

  “I don’t know if I even knew that. We saw The Taming of the Shrew.”

  “What did you think?”

  “The play sucked, but I thought it was a fitting symbol of how much I loved Em.”

  “Why? Did she hate it, too?”

  “Hell, no. Em thought it was awesome. So I worked on keeping my mouth shut.”

  Liking the story, and how it had taken his mind off the game, Jackson said, “Beth would have said you got smart all the sudden.”

  Kurt slapped him on the back as he laughed. “Well, she would’ve been right.”

  CHAPTER 30

  From Les Larke’s

  You, Too, Can Host

  a Poker Tourney:

  Then there is the chance of having your big brother or busybody neighbor turn into a penny-pinching, angry drunk. And, I promise, it’s always a possibility. You’d be surprised what can happen when people let their guard down.

  You still up?

  Blearily reading the text, Dani figured there were two ways to answer. Give Jackson the truth or type in the words that would make him happy.

  I am. Everything okay?

  Almost immediately, she saw the little black dots appear, signifying that he had read her text and was sending back a reply.

  Really? That’s good. I was afraid I

  might have woken you up.

  Glad she’d told him that little fib, Dani smiled at the screen on her phone. She typed her response quickly.

  Is the tournament finally over?

  Yep. TG.

  Well????? How did it go?

  She was completely awake now and on pins and needles.
<
br />   I’d rather tell you in person. Can

  I stop by?

  Two seconds later he sent off another quick note.

  It’s okay if you want to tell me no.

  She grinned, loving both that he was anxious to see her and that she was just as anxious to see him right away. After so many months of feeling like an eighty-year-old woman suffering from arthritis, it was nice to feel attractive and wanted again.

  Of course, she might be swinging a bit far the other way now. Sometimes she felt like she was turning more and more into a teenage girl with every week they were together.

  I’m sure. Come over.

  Awesome. I’ll be there in ten.

  After she sent him a little thumbs-up emoji, she glanced at the time. A quarter to two! It really was the middle of the night.

  Quickly getting off the couch, she peeked in her bedroom to check on Kate. As expected, the little girl was still sound asleep in her bed. Her arms were thrown up above her head and her new Scooby-Doo pajamas were twisted around her torso. After pulling the blanket up a few inches, she peeked in on Jeremy.

  He was flat on his stomach, arms and legs sprawled. Sound asleep, too.

  She was relieved about that. He’d been up late playing some game on his Xbox. Because they didn’t have anything planned until two the next day, she’d let him stay up as late as he’d wanted. She knew he stayed up until two every now and then. All the running he’d been doing for baseball must have taken its toll.

  Now that she’d been assured that both kids were settled, she ran into the bathroom, ran a brush through her hair and rinsed her mouth. And, yes, swiped some lip gloss over her lips and analyzed her outfit. It was only leggings and a T-shirt. But for once it wasn’t a stretched out old shirt of Brian’s. It was a tunic she’d found at Old Navy on a clearance rack. She thought the deep rose color set off her skin tone and the V neckline made her rather flat chest look like there might be something there worth looking at. All in all, not too bad—considering she’d been sound asleep just a few minutes earlier.

  His knock came just as she returned to the living room.

  She didn’t wait two seconds to open it.

  Jackson was standing on the other side, looking more rumpled than she’d ever seen him, even after working nine hours at the pub. He was wearing a ratty pair of black gym shorts, a tight concert T-shirt, and a pair of thick tube socks and black tennis shoes. The outfit was bad enough that even Jeremy would’ve said Jackson looked ridiculous.