Another Mother

by Rodney Riesel

“Red said he wouldn't say anything either.”

  “You told Red?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “I'm nervous,” Maxine said, as Dan steered the car into the parking lot of Red's Bar and Grill.

  Dan put the Porsche in reverse and backed into a spot across the lot next to the picnic tables. “Nervous about what?” he asked.

  “About meeting your brother,” she replied.

  Dan shut off the engine and turned to Maxine. “Listen, we don't even know if he really is my brother. Just because he says he is, doesn't mean he is.”

  “Why would he lie about it?' Maxine scoffed.

  “Money!” Dan replied. “He wants money.”

  Maxine started to open the door but paused. “I've never asked you this before, but exactly how much money are you worth?”

  “It doesn't matter.”

  “Hundreds of thousands?”

  “Really, it doesn't matter.”

  “Millions?”

  “Maxine.”

  “Hundreds of millions?”

  Dan didn't answer.

  “Billions?”

  “Dan opened his door. “Let's go meet my brother,” he said, putting finger quotes around the word brother.

  “Someday you'll have to tell me how much money.”

  Dan continued to walk toward the entrance of the bar.

  “I'm going to be your wife, pal.”

  Dan said nothing.

  “If we ever set a date,” said Maxine.

  Dan pulled open the door and held it for Maxine.

  “Am I in your will at least?” asked Maxine.

  Dan continued to ignore her.

  “Am I going to have to sign a prenup?”

  These were all questions that Maxine really didn't care about, but ribbing her future husband was fun.

  Dan entered behind Maxine and let the door close behind him. He spotted Richard at the bar. He was sitting on Dan's favorite stool. There were six other empty stools.

  “What the Christ?” Dan grumbled. Sitting on my stool.

  Richard turned when he heard the footsteps behind him. “Hey,” he said.

  “Hey,” Dan responded.

  Maxine stepped up beside Dan. She smiled at Richard. “You must be Richard,” she said.

  Richard slid off the stool and offered his hand. “That's me,” he said. “And you must be Maxine.”

  Maxine didn't shake Richard's hand. Instead, she went in for a hug.

  “Oh,” said Richard surprised, “you're a hugger.”

  “Well, you're family.”

  Dan rolled his eyes. Family, he thought.

  Richard picked up his glass. “Shall we get a table?” he asked.

  Dan made eye contact with Cindy behind the bar. “Tequila, Seven, and lime,” he ordered.

  “Comin' right up,” Cindy said.

  “Put that on my tab,” said Richard.

  Big spender, Dan thought. “Thanks.”

  The three made their way across the room to a four-top near the jukebox and sat. A minute later, Cindy arrived with Dan's drink, and a Michelob Ultra for Maxine.

  “Thanks,” said Maxine.

  “Abby will be right over to take your order,” Cindy informed them.

  “Abby?” Dan asked.

  “Red hired her this morning,” Cindy said. “Maxine recommended her for the job.”

  Dan gave Maxine a puzzled look. “She did?” he asked. “Who's Abby?”

  “She's Colton's girlfriend,” Maxine replied. “She told me she was looking for a job, and I told her she should try here.”

  “Well, wasn't that nice of you.” said Dan sarcastically. “How did you even meet Colton's girlfriend?”

  “She stopped by the house on Monday to see Colton. I was outside with Bev—”

  “Gawking at Colton?” Dan threw in.

  “No,” Maxine argued defensively. “We were just standing out front talking.”

  “Because you always stand out front talking.”

  “Can I finish?”

  “I guess.”

  “Anyway, he introduced us to Abby.”

  “And you told her to get a job.”

  Richard snickered.

  “No. She told us she was looking for a job.”

  “And you told her about Red's.”

  “Is that a problem?'

  “If she works here, now he'll be hanging around all the time.”

  “What's wrong with that?”

  “I don't like staring at him all the time like some people I could name.”

  “Then don't.”

  “I mean, I don't think he's as pretty as you.”

  “I hope not,” said Maxine. “I'm much prettier.”

  “That's not what I mean. I don't think he's as pretty as you think he is.”

  “Why don't you quit while you're not too far behind?” Richard suggested.

  “Yeah, good idea,” Dan agreed.

  “Good evening,” said the twenty-something red head. “My name is Abby and I'll be taking care of you this—hey, Maxine!”

  “Hi, Abby! How are you liking the new job?”

  “So far so good.”

  Maxine introduced Abby to Dan and Richard and gave her the Reader's Digest version of their long-lost brother's story. Dan sat quietly wondering why Maxine thought anyone would want to hear about it.

  When Maxine finished the story, Abby took their orders and went to the kitchen.

  “You don't have to tell everybody you meet our life story,” said Dan.

  “Life story?” Maxine shot back. “I wouldn't call that your life story.” She turned to Richard. “So, Richard, what do you do in Texas?”

  “I own a little pharmacy in a small community called Port Arthur. It's on the western shore of Sabine Lake, a huge estuary on the Louisiana-Texas border. Beautiful place. My father purchased the store in 1980.”

  “That's where you live, Port Arthur?”

  “I actually live about an hour away, in Caplen, Texas.”

  “That's quite a commute,” said Dan.

  “It's not too bad. I only work at the store two or three days a week now.”

  “You're a pharmacist?” asked Maxine.

  “Yes, but since my father passed, and I took over the store, I've cut my hours back quite a bit.”

  “What do you do in your spare time?” Maxine asked.

  Richard chuckled. “Not much. I surf a little. I play drums in a band. We play area bars a couple nights a week. I'm pretty much semi-retired.”

  “No wife?” Dan asked.

  Richard shook his head. “Nope.”

  “Girlfriend?” asked Maxine.

  “I have a dog. His name is Buddy.”

  “Oh my God!” said Maxine.

  “What?” asked Richard.

  “Dan's dog's name is Buddy.”

  Richard looked at Dan. “Are you serious?”

  “Dan nodded. “Yes. He's a border collie lab mix.”

  “My dog is a beagle,” said Richard. “But how crazy is it that they have the same name?”

  “Crazy,” Dan agreed half-heartedly.

  “I've heard of things like that before,” said Maxine. “I heard about these brothers who were given up for adoption at birth. When they found each other in their forties, they were both cops, both had wives with the same first name, and both had three children.”

  “We're only half-brothers,” said Dan, “so it's probably just the dog thing.”

  “You never know,” Maxine said. “What's your favorite color, Richard?”

  “Blue, I guess.”

  “What's yours, Dan?”

  “You don't know my favorite color?” Dan asked.

  “No.”

  Dan humphed. “And you want to be in my will.”

  “Well, what is it?” Maxine pressed.

  “I don't have a favorite color.”

  “Everyone has a favorite color,” Maxine insisted.

  “I don't,” Dan argued.

  “That's wei
rd.”

  “Is it?” Dan asked. “I don't think it is.”

  “Steak and mashed potatoes?” Abby asked.

  “Right here,” said Dan. “And can I get another drink?”

  Abby sat Dan's plate in front of him. “You sure can,” she said. She placed Maxine and Richard's plates in front of them. “Can I get either of you two another drink?”

  “I'm good,” said Maxine.

  “I'll take another,” said Richard.

  Abby returned a few minutes later, and a few minutes after that, Red bounded through the kitchen door.

  “No one told me you guys were here!” said Red.

  “We tipped extra for that,” Dan said.

  “Very funny.” Red pulled out a chair and took a seat at the table. He looked toward the bar. “Cindy!” he shouted. “Scotch on the rocks!”

  “Please!” Cindy shouted back.

  “Please.” Red said. He turned back to Dan. “So, what time we leavin' in the mornin'?”

  “I don't know,” Dan replied. “It's what, about a four and a half hour drive?”

  “Give or take,” said Red.

  “Let's leave at six thirty. That'll give us time to look around before Maggie gets to the restaurant. I wanted to swing by her father's house first and get a look at the place.”

  “Sounds good,” said Red. “Six thirty sound okay with you, Rich?”

  “Fine with me,” Richard answered.

  “Wait … what?” Dan asked.

  “I invited Rich along,” said Red. “We decided to take his Passat. There's more room for all of us.”

  “You decided?” Dan asked.

  “I didn't think you would mind,” Red said.

  Richard said, “If you don't want me to go—”

  “No, that's fine,” said Dan.

  Red looked around the room. “How come nobody is playing the jukebox?” He stood up and reached into his pocket for some change. “What kind of music do you like, Rich?”

  “I'm a pretty big Buffett fan,” Rich said.

  “Ha!” Maxine shouted. “He's a big Buffett fan! Just like you, Dan.”

  “One of the most popular entertainers of the last forty years. What are the odds?” Dan deadpanned.

  Chapter Ten

  By seven o'clock Red and Richard had picked up Dan and the three men were headed north on A1A in Richard's Volkswagen Passat, just outside of Summerland Key. The radio was tuned to Radio Margaritaville, and Dan tapped his thigh with his thumb to the beat of “Surfing in a Hurricane.” He was wearing his RayBan Wayfarers, but still squinting as he gazed out over the water.

  “The Galley Grill is right up here on the right,” Red said matter-of-factly, from the backseat.

  “So what?” Dan responded.

  “Gettin' kinda hungry.”

  “Didn't you eat before you picked me up?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “We usually stop on the way.”

  “Usually? When was the last time we drove up to West Palm Beach together?'

  “I don't think we ever did.”

  “Then how can there be a usually?”

  “I'm getting a little hungry too,” said Richard.

  “Of course you are,” said Dan. He reached up and turned the music down a bit.

  “Turn right up here, Rich” said Red.

  Richard steered his car off the road and into the parking lot of the Galley Grill. The three men climbed out of the car and walked up the concrete ramp, and through a doorway to the outside dining area. They waited at the door for the hostess.

  A waitress saw them and said, “You can sit anywhere you like.”

  The trio grabbed a booth against the lattice wall that surrounded the patio. The waitress who had spoken to them soon arrived at the table with a coffee pot in her hand.

  “Coffee for everyone?” she asked.

  “Yes,” they all said.

  She poured the coffee and when she got to Dan she stared for a second. “Do I know you?” she asked.

  “I don't think so,” Dan said.

  “You look familiar.”

  “Everyone says that.”

  “You ready to order?”

  “Yes.”

  “I need a second,” Red said.

  “No you don't,” Dan said. “I'll have two eggs over medium, bacon, and white toast.”

  Richard said, “I'll have the same thing.”

  The waitress looked at Red.

  “I don't know what I want.”

  “Come on,” said Dan. “She hasn't got all day.”

  “Just bring me the same thing,” said Red. “But scrambled eggs, and rye instead of white.”

  “Jesus Christ!” Dan said.

  “Well, ya got me all flustered.”

  “How could you be flustered? You've ordered breakfast before.”

  “But I didn't know what I wanted.”

  “How can you not know what you want for breakfast?” Dan scolded. “They probably haven't invented anything new for breakfast since the Egg McMuffin, and we ain't at McDonald's. There's eggs, meat, bread, pancakes, and French toast. That's it.”

  “I can't decide that quickly.”

  “I knew what I wanted the second we pulled into the parking lot.”

  “Well you're just weird,” Red said. “I heard you don't even have a favorite color.”

  “Oh shut up.”

  Richard was trying his best not to laugh. “Sorry, Dan, I told him about the favorite color thing.”

  “Whatever. It doesn't matter.”

  The waitress returned a few minutes later. As she set their plates in front of them, she stared at Dan. “I'll think of it,” she said.

  “I hope you do,” Dan replied.

  When the waitress walked away, Red said, “Dan was in a shootout here awhile back.”

  Richard's eyes widened. “A shootout? Like … a real shootout?”

  Dan nodded, and took a sip of his coffee. “Yup,” he said. “A real shootout.”

  “What happened?” Richard asked.

  As the three men ate their breakfast Dan told Richard about Lance Beacon, and how he hired a hitman and put out contract on his own life. He and Red talked about the red headed hit man that jumped through Dan's window and ended up being shot in the parking lot of a burning hotel. Richard remained enthralled with the story from beginning to end.

  “Wow,” Richard said. “That. Is. Awesome!”

  Dan was pretty proud of himself, and the fact that his big brother thought he was so cool.

  “Yeah, all in a day's work,” said Red. He leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms over his head.

  Dan downed the last of his coffee. “Let's get back on the road.”

  The waitress hurried toward them. She was pointing her finger at Dan. “You were here a few weeks back,” she recalled. “Now I remember. You and that other guy. You were almost killed out front when that maniac opened fire with his gun.”

  Dan nodded. “That's me.” He glanced over at Richard. Richard had a big grin on his face. At that moment Dan liked having a brother. It had been a long time since he had felt that way.

  Chapter Eleven

  At Eleven fifteen Richard Bong took a right off of Cocoanut Row onto Clarke Avenue. He, Dan, and Red were enroute to E.R. Bradley's for their lunch date with Maggie Harrison, as planned, they took a detour to check out the estate of her father, Harrison Harrison, the mouthpiece so nice, they named him twice.

  “This is the street Maggie's father lives on?” Red asked.

  “According to Google,” Dan answered. “Should be at the end here, on the right.” He pointed down the street.

  “Harrison Harrison must be a very successful attorney,” said Richard, gazing in awe at the brick and stucco mansions as they drove along the palm tree-lined street.

  “I guess so,” Dan agreed.

  “I want a house like this,” said Red.

  “Go to law school,” Richard responded.

  W
hen they got to the corner of Clarke Avenue and South County Road, Richard stopped at the stop sign. They all three looked to their right, past the gated driveway, at the huge brick home.

  “It looks like the Playboy Mansion,” said Red.

  “I wonder if there's any Playmates inside?” Richard deadpanned.

  Two security guards in black three-piece suits stood at the gate. The massive guards stared at Richard's car with blank expressions. Their hands were folded at the waist. When Richard made eye contact with one of the men, he realized he had been sitting at the stop sign just a little too long, and drove on through the intersection.

  “What do you think Tweedledee and Tweedledum are for?” Dan asked, referring to the security guards.

  “I don't know,” Richard replied. “My attorney doesn't have any guards.”

  “Mine neither,” Red said.

  “Your attorney doesn't even have an office, Red,” said Dan.

  “He does too,” Red argued.

  “A storage unit is not an office.”

  “Where to?” Richard asked.

  “Take a right up here, and circle back around,” Dan responded. “Let's get a look at the back of the place.”

  “I wonder if he has a pool?” Red mused.

  “I bet he has a real nice pool,” said Richard.

  Richard took a right onto South Ocean Boulevard and then a right onto Seabreeze Avenue. He drove up one block and stopped at the stop sign.

  “Turn right,” Dan said, “and then we'll take a left into the alley.”

  “You want me to drive down the alley?” Richard asked nervously.

  “Yeah, why not?”

  “What if there's not an outlet, and we're stuck in there? What if the guards notice the car?”

  “You sound scared, Richard,” Dan observed.

  “Not scared, just cautious.”

  Richard pulled into the narrow alley, barely wide enough for two cars to pass each other. It was shady due to the many overhanging palm fronds and tree branches. Two black Lincoln Navigators with tinted windows were park at the rear entrance to the Harrison home. Three other guards stood near the rear gate and the two Navigators. The three tough guys were dressed identical to the ones out front.

  “Wow,” Richard whispered.

  “Yeah,” Dan agreed. “This guy does something other than practice law.”

  “Look at that pool,” said Red. “It's the size of a small lake.”

  Richard continued down the alley cautiously. He came to a stop at Cocoanut Row. “Which way?” he asked.