Red’s Hot Honky-Tonk Bar

by Pamela Morsi

  Mike chuckled, but Red didn’t find it at all funny.

  “Look, they deduct child support from my every paycheck,” he said. “I think that’s penalty enough for not keeping it in my pants. Bridge was the one who was so desperate for a family she had to grow her own. I guess that’s your fault, Red, so maybe granny duty is a just punishment.”

  To: buildabetterbridge@citymail.com

  August 25 11:09 a.m.

  From: Livy156@ABrats.org

  Subject: I HATE HER!

  I cant stand that she is my grandmother. She is the worse person in the whole world and I know now for sure why we never saw her much because you would not want us to be like her. She is so bad.

  Daddy was here. It was like heaven. We went to Fiesta Texas and he rode the big roller coaster with me. Daniel was too short and he was scared too. We got to see Abuela and she squeezed my hand like she didn’t want to let me go. She loves me so much. And Daddy loves me too. He is so great and he wants us so much. He has to go back to Korea and he wanted to take us with him, but the Bad Gramma said NO! I hate her so much. I will never forgive her. Ever. Ever.

  When you get home I want to never come back to her stinky bar ever. I hate being here. Dont worry. I’m not running away or anything. Somebody has to take care of Daniel. The red witch cant do it. I remember how you said that you do what you must because you have to. I will do what I have to too.

  Miss you.

  Livy

  7

  Red gave the kids the news first thing the next day. The reaction to staying with her was about what she expected. Olivia called her a “mean old witch” and Daniel retreated into Spanish only, curling himself into a tiny ball on his chair. Nobody ate a bite of breakfast and morning ablutions were exceptionally noisy with all the slamming doors.

  By the time Cam showed up about eleven, Red was grateful to see him.

  “I’ve got some pretty unhappy campers,” she told him. She didn’t have a moment to even explain to him what had happened before Olivia piped in.

  “Cam, please take us to the library,” she pleaded. “Please, please.”

  He looked at Red for guidance.

  “Do you have time?” she asked him.

  “Absolutely.”

  “I would really appreciate it,” she said.

  After they were gone, Red tried to pull her thoughts and her plans together. This was really happening. She was going to have to keep these kids with her for the next four months and she needed to figure out how to do that. She was not a woman who had ever backed down from anything that had to be faced. She managed bigger challenges, just by breaking them down into smaller jobs to be accomplished.

  Seated on the patio, she listened to the sound of the river nearby as she made a list of everything that was needed immediately.

  Sitter

  School

  Home

  The last she circled and drew an arrow to the top of the list. She remembered the tacky roach-infested apartment in Irish Flats where she and Bridge had lived. She needed to do better than that.

  She was still thinking and tapping her pencil when Cam came back alone.

  “Where are the kids?”

  “I left them with Mrs. Ramirez,” he said. “They were both starving and you know how she likes to feed people.”

  “Good,” Red said, nodding.

  Cam glanced at her list before he sat down. “So I guess these are your immediate needs with the kids,” he said. “What can I do to help you?”

  Red shook her head. “I’m still thinking that you should move along before you get yourself in deeper than you want to be.”

  Cam hesitated for a long moment. “I’m thinking that you are going to be a lot busier,” he said. “So I am going to make myself a bit more scarce.”

  Red forced a smile to her face. He was bowing out after all. She’d expected it. It would be crazy for him not to. And she knew that once he was gone, he’d never find his way back to her again. There was an aching sense of loss within her that she deliberately ignored.

  “It’s only a few months and then Bridge will be back and things will be back to normal.”

  He gave a slow nod that wasn’t completely convinced.

  “One thing I’ve got to ask,” he said. “Why did you let the kids think that you were keeping them here, instead of their dad letting them go?”

  She shrugged. “I’m just their grandmother,” she answered.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means…” She tried to put her instinct into words. “It means that if they get angry with me, resent me, hate me, well, that’s no big deal.”

  Cam let that answer soak in for a moment. “But if they get angry, resentful and hateful to their dad, it is a big deal.”

  “Right.”

  Cam shook his head. “I’m not sure Miguel Lujan deserves what you’re doing for him.”

  Red gave an incredulous sniff of disdain. “I’m not doing anything for that sorry bastard,” she said. “Or maybe I am. I’m buying him a little time to smarten up, grow up, before it’s too late for any of it to matter. But that’s just coincidental.”

  “You’re doing it for the kids?”

  “Children have a right to think the best of their parents,” Red said. “Believe me, they always learn soon enough how flawed they really are.”

  “You sound like you speak from experience.”

  She laughed humorlessly. “From both sides. I’ve been the flaw finder and the flawed.”

  Cam’s eyebrow went up slightly and Red knew that she’d revealed more than she should. She didn’t want questions. Especially from a guy who was on his way out.

  “I think these two kids have already got my number,” she told him. “You know what Daniel calls me? Abuela Mala.”

  “Bad Grandmother?” Cam translated and then burst out laughing.

  “You would think it’s funny!” she said, although she was smiling, as well. “We’d better go down and get the kids or I definitely will have proved Daniel right.”

  “In a minute,” he said. “First, I’d like to offer something.”

  Red looked at him, surprised.

  “I know how you hate to take help from anybody for any reason,” he said. “You certainly hate taking anything from men. So don’t think this is from me to you. It’s more from me to the kids.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well,” he said. “The truth is, I have a nice house within walking distance of a great elementary school. I’d like to loan it to you. We could just temporarily swap living arrangements. I could be the bachelor living over the bar. And you can take care of two grandkids in a three-bedroom house in a family neighborhood.”

  “What would your landlord say about that?” she asked.

  “It’s my house, Red. I don’t have a landlord. I own it.”

  “You own your own house?” Her tone was incredulous.

  “Yes, ma’am, I do,” he answered. “And I’d be happy to let you borrow it while the kids are with you.”

  Red stared at her ne’er-do-well cowboy fiddler player with new eyes.

  “All the months I’ve known you, you never said anything about owning a house,” she pointed out.

  Cam grinned at her and with more than a hint of teasing in his voice he answered, “You never said anything about having a daughter or grandchildren, so I guess we’re even. It’s my grandmother’s house. She left it to me.”

  “Oh,” Red replied, nodding, as if inheritance explained everything. “So where is this family-friendly property of yours?”

  “Not far from here,” he answered. “It’ll be a really quick commute for you.”

  “And you’re sure the school is okay?” Red asked, thinking again of the nearby Irish Flats neighborhood.

  “It’s excellent. I went to elementary there, and see how well I turned out.”

  He was joking, but Red detected some hedging on his part. There was something he just wasn’t saying.

&
nbsp; “We’d better catch up with the kids,” he said, jumping to his feet. “I’m getting pretty hungry myself.”

  “I haven’t said yes yet,” Red pointed out, making no move to leave.

  Cam reviewed the obvious. “You can’t keep these kids above the bar,” he said. “There’s not enough room and it’s too busy and noisy at night. If you’re in my house, you won’t actually have to move out. You can just live in my place with my stuff. It’s a very good idea.”

  She nodded. “But there is something about this that you’re not telling me.”

  He shrugged. “There is,” he admitted. “But it’s not a bad thing. It actually might be a good thing.”

  She waited, not even bothering to voice the question.

  “My house is in Alamo Heights,” he said.

  “Alamo Heights?” Her tone was incredulous.

  8

  Alamo Heights had the distinction of being the first suburb of San Antonio. At the turn of the century the downtown streetcar line had been extended to the area and by the 1920s it was an incorporated city. For the most part, it weathered good times and bad a bit better than the city of San Antonio that surrounded it. Now it was considered a tony, upper-class enclave for architects, lawyers and old San Antonians who wanted to be close to downtown but near the country club.

  “Look, I know I’m not the most sensitive or experienced grandmother in America,” Red told Cam. “But even I know you don’t plunk down a couple of little brown kids into white-bread heaven.”

  “It’s not really like that,” he insisted. “We have African-Americans. We have Hispanics.”

  Red nodded. “Rich African-Americans. Rich Hispanics.”

  “Just see the place before you judge,” he insisted.

  Red didn’t want to see the place. She didn’t care to take the time to judge. The smart thing to do, she was certain, was reject it outright. Cam was correct in his estimation of her. She didn’t like to accept gifts from men she was sleeping with. That sort of thing always ended badly. She was sure of that. But looking at the short-term future for herself and the kids, Cam’s solution did seem like a good one.

  She didn’t want to have to drive too far. A temporary trade of her beloved CRX for Bridge’s camo-Prius was the smart thing to do. It got good gas mileage, but still driving to and from work was going to be a new expense, along with so many others.

  The Hearts Apart organization at the base had helped her locate a babysitter, a young mom with a nursing newborn. She needed a job while her husband was deployed, but wanted to bring her baby along. It was perfect for her to supervise Olivia and Daniel in the evenings when the bar was open.

  And, of course, there was the upcoming school year. The Family Assistance Center had all the statistics on the local schools and Alamo Heights was highly ranked.

  So a few days later, with the children still sulking, Red loaded everyone into the car and headed up Broadway.

  At least Olivia was now speaking to her, though the tearful goodbye with her dad could still be heard in her every word. Daniel was only speaking Spanish, so as they drove northward, it fell to Cam to make most of the conversation.

  Red was actually surprised at how well he was doing. She typically thought of him as the strong, silent type. Chattiness had never seemed to be his strong suit, but he was certainly making an effort with the kids. She was not sure, however, that asking lots of questions about their big day with their dad was exactly the way to go. As she drove through the small, retro commercial area that was downtown Alamo Heights, she tried to change the subject.

  “This place sure has a lot of mom-and-pop stores. How do they stay in business?”

  Cam shrugged. “Some of them don’t,” he said. “It’s hard to keep the prices comparable to what they charge in big box stores. But I think people like to buy local if they can. Turn left here.”

  Red followed his directions and turned down an expansive boulevard that curved through lush green trees and grass. Initially she thought it was a park, until she noticed the driveways. The hair stood up on the back of Red’s neck. This place was very different from the world in which she’d made herself comfortable. And it was also very different from the west-side barrio of the children’s abuela or even the military housing they’d shared with their mother.

  Cam was so familiar with the neighborhood that he apparently didn’t notice. The kids were focused on their own discontent and not paying attention. But Red was sharply aware that, despite the short drive, this neighborhood was a very long way from the corner of Eight and B. The profusion of plants and flowers and the elegant homes set back from the street gave her the strange sense that the location was uninhabited. As they rounded a curve, however, that notion was put to rest.

  A large, robust man of later years, wearing a golf shirt and shorts, was ambling along the sidewalk with a pair of primped and prissy Pekingese. With a broad smile and a raised hand, he offered a greeting.

  “Who was that?” Red asked.

  “Huh?” Cam looked up and then glanced back toward the man they’d passed. “I don’t know,” he said.

  “He waved at us.”

  Cam shrugged. “Everybody knows everybody,” he answered. “Of course he waved. He probably couldn’t even see us.”

  Somehow that didn’t give her comfort.

  The roadway continued to curve like the dry creek bed it had once been. Cam finally directed her to turn off on a side street and then an even narrower avenue. At least here the houses and yards were smaller.

  “This is it, here on the left,” he said. “Just pull in to the driveway.”

  The house he indicated, like the ones on either side, was far from new, but its butter-yellow paint and unscarred white trim kept it looking fresh and cheery. The front door was centered in a wide covered porch that wrapped around one corner and sported an array of wicker furniture, as well as a swing.

  “This is it,” Cam announced. “My home sweet home.”

  “It looks kind of like Abuela’s house,” Olivia said.

  Red didn’t really see the comparison. Granted, it was quite modest in comparison to some of the magnificent homes they’d passed and the style was similar to many homes on the west side. But it was clean and scrubbed-looking, to the point of drabness. Still, if the kids found something positive or familiar about that, then so much the better.

  They got out of the car and went inside. Cam fumbled momentarily with the keys and Red had the distinct impression that he was a bit nervous, as if stepping over this threshold was more than just going into his house.

  Red refused to see it as anything else as he held the door and she walked inside. She glanced around the living room, taking it in.

  “My decor is sort of my stuff, mixed with the old things I’ve inherited,” he told Red. “So it’s not exactly the kind of bachelor crib that kicks, ah…armadillo.”

  He chuckled at his own little joke.

  Red didn’t laugh. She was still trying to get her mind around the living room. She hadn’t really thought about what Cam’s place might look like, but if she had imagined something, she would have thought sleek and sparse. It would either be all industrial stainless steel or it would be unobtrusively modern. Instead, the cozy stuffed sofa and upholstered reading chairs were traditional and homey. Where Red might have anticipated old concert posters and oversize flags to cover bare walls, tastefully framed art was displayed instead.

  “Uh…nice,” she said inadequately.

  The adjacent dining room was also visible, its drop-leaf mahogany table an obvious leftover from earlier occupants. Beyond that, Red could glimpse one corner of a gleaming white kitchen.

  “The stereo stuff is all in here,” Cam said, opening a cabinet on the interior wall. “The CDs are alphabetical by artist. You guys are welcome to use all this,” he said to the children. “And…I guess we’ll have to move the TV.” He opened the top cabinet to reveal a small television inside.

  “Why do you have the television
up there?” Red asked.

  “It keeps me from wasting too much time,” he answered. “You’d be surprised how few things on the air are compelling enough to make you stand up to watch.”

  Red saw Olivia and Daniel share a glance that clearly indicated their opinion.

  “The main bedroom is in here.” Cam led them into the hallway, indicating the first doorway. “This is perfect for you, Red. When you come in from work, you won’t wake up Livy and Daniel.”

  Red glanced around the room. It was obviously a masculine room, but it was classy-looking, she thought. There was no sense of it being a bachelor’s passion pit. It was cozy, and while her eyes viewed that favorably, she couldn’t help comparing it to the stark utility of her own bedroom over the bar. The only expense she’d been willing to incur for decoration had been the ugly but effective blackout curtains.

  “It’s got a pretty good closet and I thought we’d do halves,” Cam said. “I’ll take half of my clothes to the apartment and you can bring half of your clothes here.”

  Red didn’t comment.

  Cam quickly clarified. “I didn’t mean it as a way to co-mingle our stuff,” he said. “I’m just thinking about cutting down on the moving.”

  She nodded slowly.

  “You guys are down this way,” Cam said, addressing the children. “You can each have your own room. But they’re right next to each other.”

  Red followed them past the bathroom to the far end of the hallway, where one corner had two open doors.

  “I thought this room would be good for you, Daniel,” he said. “It’s my guest room, where all my buddies hang out when they stay over. You kind of fall into that group.”

  Daniel’s chin rose a little higher and he puffed his chest out slightly.

  “We’re going to clean out these shelves and drawers and bring all your things from your abuela’s house to put there,” he continued. “This used to be my room when I was your age.”