“What do you think?” Charlie asked.
“I think we should get drunk tonight.”
“I think you might be right,” Charlie said.
They both looked at Armie. “Sure,” he said. “Why not.”
* * *
Josef stayed out on the porch after the others had all gone inside and called Stephen Jansom. “Wifey still got you on lockdown?”
“No, I’m back in the office, unfortunately.”
“I need a favor.” Josef examined the scabbed-over parts of the cut on his hand while he spoke.
“I dread the next words to come out of your mouth.”
“You still in touch with that guy?”
“I’m in touch with a lot of guys.”
“You know, the one opening the restaurant?”
“Bill? Yeah, sure. Why?”
“I need his number.”
“That’s it?”
“Yup,” Josef said. “That’s it.”
* * *
The Iron Horse was packed.
“It’s the only bar in Hudson with electricity,” Josef yelled as they all huddled inside the door. No one in town appeared to have anything to do except tie one on.
Melody of course had agreed wholeheartedly to go. “We all need to get out of this house,” she’d said. Abbott and Dustin were already both asleep and Ana said no need to worry, she’d keep an eye on them. Charlie had told Melody she shouldn’t risk being recognized in public and Melody had responded by putting on her wig.
“It’s your funeral,” Charlie had said.
Josef bought the first round. Melody—wearing the wig, floppy hat, black jeans, black sweater, and sunglasses—asked for a cocktail menu, which drew a sequence of eye blinks from the bartender.
“We got beer”—he gestured to the row of bottom-shelf liquor bottles—“and we got this stuff.”
“Just give me a whiskey.”
“Any?”
“Your best,” Melody said.
“Oh-kay,” the man said. “How do you take it?”
Melody opened her hands. “In a glass?”
The bartender blinked at her again.
“You’re a little intense,” Josef told her.
“And you’re a shithead.”
Two guys who Josef repeatedly pointed out “looked like rodeo clowns” were holding down the pool table. His evidence of their rodeo-ness was the fact that one wore a cowboy hat and the other had on what he referred to as “relaxed-fit” jeans. He said numerous times (much too loudly, Armie told him), “Look at this guy and his relaxed-fit jeans!”
They found a table next to the jukebox. They were a grim, dour crew. Charlie nursed her headache, which she was certain was Enabletal dependence–related. She couldn’t relax because she was in a state of perpetual dread. She feared that at any moment she would look up and someone she knew from high school, some lost soul who never made it out, would spot her and come over and want to catch up. She didn’t think she could endure such inane questions as “What are you up to these days?” or “Did you get married?” She kept her head down. “Do you think any of these knuckleheads recognize you?” she asked Melody.
“Who cares?” she said.
“Let the girl live a little.” Josef raised his beer.
The pool-playing guys circled the table, carefully composing and then missing shots. The one in the relaxed-fit jeans pretended his cue stick was a sword and stabbed the ground.
“Why’d you hightail it out of LA?” Josef asked.
“I didn’t ‘hightail’ it,” Melody said. “I just left. And it’s none of your business.”
“Fair enough. But don’t you have, like, contractual obligations and whatnot?”
“I pay my lawyers to deal with that bullshit.”
“She’s joking,” Charlie said. “She’s going to Italy next week to finish shooting. Isn’t that right?”
“Ha! You quit! You can’t tell me what to do.”
“We can talk about this later.”
“Yeah,” Josef said. “Let’s just drink and enjoy the amazing ambience here. All these great people.”
“Just because it’s not New York City,” Armie said. “Ewww. Ahh.” He waved his hands in the air.
“It’s not even Brooklyn,” Josef said.
Thinking of Brooklyn made him think of Nora and he realized with a dawning horror that he would in all likelihood not be seeing her anytime soon, and he wasn’t counting on being able to fuck Natalie under the circumstances, even if he managed to reconcile with her when she came up with the girls. What was he going to do, screw her in the bathroom at his parents’ house? Well, come to think of it, when he considered it, he wasn’t above the idea. He just didn’t think she’d be game.
Looking around the bar, he saw there wasn’t much in the way of options. So that left Nora (or Ariel, maybe), but he’d have to somehow convince either of them to travel upriver to meet him, and even if by some miracle one of them did, they’d have to get a hotel room or something and Josef was trying (at Dr. Hammerstein’s behest) to leave behind his days of hiding out in hotel rooms having illicit sex. What he wanted, he knew, was Natalie. Whenever. However. The rest was just filler. He took out his phone and texted her.
Josef: It’d mean a lot to me if you and the girls were here tomorrow.
She replied quickly.
Natalie: That’s nice of you to say. Of course we’ll be there.
Josef: I don’t know if I’m just emotional or what but I feel close to you.
Natalie: We’re all thinking of you. Let’s talk tomorrow.
Talk? What was this talk of “talk”? He got a jolt of excitement and looked up at everyone at the table.
“What’s so funny?” Charlie asked.
“You’re grinning like an idiot,” Melody said.
“It’s just nice that we’re all together,” Josef said. “You should have seen us today! What a day, right?”
“It was interesting,” Armie said.
“Admit it,” Josef said. “You had fun.”
“I admit it, it was fun,” Armie said.
“Now the two of you are grinning like idiots!” Melody said. “Unreal.”
“Can’t two brothers share a moment?” Josef asked. He leaned over and put his arm around Armie and gave him a squeeze.
“Don’t do that!” Armie said, pulling away. “I hate that.”
“Come on, just a little hug.” Armie relented and Josef gave him a half–bear hug. His hand stung from the frantic getaway they’d staged earlier from the hobby shop.
“What did the two of you get into?” Charlie asked.
“That,” Josef said, “shall remain a secret. For now.” He released his brother.
“Not fair,” Charlie said.
With his phone under the table, Josef wrote back to Natalie.
Josef: I’d like that. See you tomorrow.
He texted Nora.
Josef: If you were here right now I’d put you on all fours and lick every part of you.
“Time for another round,” Josef said, finishing his beer in a massive gulp.
“I got it,” Melody said.
“No.” Charlie grabbed her arm as she stood up. “Please. Just . . . stay here. I’ll get it. Just. Sit.”
“You’re just like Mom!” Josef said. “Stop bossing her around.”
“I am not like Mom! Take that back.”
“I’m fine,” Melody said.
Charlie let go and Melody sashayed off to the bar, where a convergence of male activity swallowed her up and Charlie lost sight of her. Not a minute later, Melody pushed her way out of the crowd bearing four whiskeys, none of which she’d paid for. Whether they knew who she was or not, every man in the Iron Horse Tavern wanted to buy her a drink. “Here ya go, assholes,” she said.
“We shouldn’t get too drunk,” Armie said.
“Don’t be a pussy,” Josef said.
“Oh my God,” Armie said. “Josef, don’t look up.”
“What?” Josef looked up. There were two cops in the doorway. Their dark uniforms looking stark against the flashing neon Miller Lite sign. “Holy shit!”
“What?” Charlie. “Oh, fuck. Melody. You need to hide.”
It was too late, though. The cops were coming at them like homing missiles.
“Good evening, folks,” the taller of the two officers said. His name tag read R. Garrett. He had brown hair, cropped short on both sides with a slight curl at the front. His radio squawked on his belt and he turned it down. The two rodeo guys at the pool table stopped to stare.
“Russell?” Charlie asked.
“Charlotte Westfall,” the officer said.
Charlie got out of her seat and gave the cop a hug and then stepped back and laughed. “How long has it been?”
“I don’t know. Fifteen years?”
“You know each other?” Melody said.
“We went to high school together. This is Russell Garrett.”
He stood up straight. “Officer Russell Garrett.”
“Officer Russell Garrett,” Charlie said. “What are you doing here?”
“Noise complaints. I think everyone in town is here tonight.”
“Wow,” Charlie said. “Well, you sure panned out nicely.”
“So did you,” he said.
“You went to Hudson High?” Josef asked. “What year?”
Russell turned to Josef. “I was in Armie’s year over there.”
Armie was staring down the barrel of his beer, not making eye contact with anyone. He was petrified he was about to be arrested for breaking and entering and who knew what else—possibly assault or something if the guy had fucked his foot up bad enough.
“How are you doing, Armie?”
“Hey, yeah,” Armie muttered. “I’m great . . . uh . . . how are you?”
“Listen. I don’t want to bother you, but I heard about George. The whole town has. And, well, I wanted to say I’m really sorry.”
“Thank you so much,” Charlie said.
“And,” Russell added, “everyone says this, but I mean it, if there’s anything you need, I’m easy to find.”
“Wow,” Charlie said. “What a gentleman.”
“Yeah,” Josef said. “Thanks. Really means a lot. Thanks for stopping by. Have a great night!”
Russell Garrett stood there nodding and smiling, with his partner behind him. “Okay, then,” he said. “We’ll be off.” He seemed like he might not leave but then he did, turning and walking off back out the door, just like that.
When they were gone Armie breathed again and Josef made wide eyes at him. “Wow,” he mouthed.
“Holy fuck,” Charlie said. “I thought they were going to arrest us!”
“I thought they were going to arrest me!” Armie said.
“Why would they arrest you?” Melody said.
“What?” Armie said.
“Let’s drink,” Josef said.
“Someone make a toast,” Melody said.
“You do it, brother,” Josef said.
Armie raised his glass. “All right, fine. Let’s drink to Dad. He had his faults, like everyone, but he tried his best, you have to admit he tried his best, and he did pretty well for himself and . . . he loved us . . . and he took care of us when we needed it.”
“I’m not going to cry,” Charlie said.
“You’re already crying.” Josef raised his glass.
The others raised their glasses and drank.
Josef’s phone vibrated in his hand.
Nora: I’m not going anywhere. And Fuck U.
Josef: What did I do? Just come up here. I’ll pay for a car.
Nora: Not happening.
Josef: Please. I need you.
Nora: You just need yourself.
Josef: I think my wife and I are going to try to patch things up. No more horsing around. I want one last time with you.
Nora: Goodbye.
“That wasn’t nice,” Josef said aloud.
“What wasn’t nice?” Melody asked.
“What? Oh, nothing, just . . . no, it’s fine. More drinks? Yes? Yes! I got ’ em.”
“I’m still drinking this,” Charlie said about her whiskey.
“You can double-fist. I need to get drunk. This has been a bad week for me.”
“It’s been a bad week for everyone, I think,” Charlie said.
Josef stood and went off to the bar.
“In my experience,” Melody said, “people never change. My ex-husband is and always will be Asshole Number One.”
“We need to get you out of that basement,” Charlie said to Armie.
“Tell me about it.”
“This place smells like”—Melody looked around—“poo.” She slugged off the rest of her whiskey and made an exaggerated motion of turning the empty glass over. “I would kill for Zankou Chicken.”
Josef returned to the table with more beers and spotted Audrey, who had just come into the bar and was waving at them. Armie gave a limp wave in return. “It’s Armie’s main squeeze!”
“She’s not my main squeeze. Leave her alone, Josef. It’s fine.”
“You’re crazy. He used to fuck this chick in high school, I’d bet money. Look at how nervous he’s getting!”
“Holy shit,” Charlie said. “Did you?”
“I did not! Stop. Josef, seriously.”
Josef waved Audrey over with big, ground control–type hand signals.
“I’m not joking, you guys,” Melody said. “I’m hungry.”
Charlie leaned over and grabbed a bowl of pretzels from the next table. “Eat up.”
“I don’t want these.”
Audrey came over.
“There you are!” Josef said. “And looking so lovely. You went to Hudson High, right? My little brother’s year?”
“I did. I’m Audrey Tan.”
She put out her hand and Josef shook it.
“Yes! I insist you join us, Audrey Tan. We need you to help lighten the mood.”
“I hope I’m not interrupting,” Audrey said.
“Of course not!” Josef said.
To Armie she said, “I stopped by your house to bring some lasagna I made and your mother told me you were all here, so . . .”
“Armie is very happy you came,” Josef said, nodding.
“Okay, enough,” Armie said.
Josef leaned over and whispered to Audrey, “He’s taking our father’s passing pretty hard and could really use the support.” He nudged her shoulder.
“I should get a drink,” Audrey said.
“We’ve got you covered!” Josef said. He grabbed one of the unclaimed beers and handed it to her. “This is, uh,” he said, indicating Melody, “Charlie’s friend from UCLA.”
“Call me Valerie,” Melody said.
“Valerie?” Charlie said. “Oh yeah, Valerie.”
“Are you guys using this chair?” Armie asked the pool players.
“Not at all, pal, take it,” the one in the cowboy hat said. The other, the one in the relaxed-fit jeans, hit the cowboy-hatted one with a jocular shot to the shoulder and, gesturing at Melody, whispered something in his buddy’s ear.
“Look at these two jackasses,” Josef said to Armie.
“What?”
“These two clowns look familiar. I think possibly one was in my high school class.”
“They do look rather middle-aged,” Armie said.
“Har-har,” Josef said. “Let’s take them down. What do you say? Show everyone your skills.”
“That’s the last thing I want to do right now.”
“It’s precisely what you need,” Josef shot back.
“You play pool?” Audrey asked.
“They called him Felson in high school.” Josef again put his arm around his brother and again Armie squirmed out of his embrace. “I’ve never seen him lose.”
“He’s making it up.”
Josef leaned over and put a hand to his mouth to address Melody and Audrey in a conspirator
’s whisper. “Felson. And also, for other reasons, they called him Lightning Rod.”
“They did not,” Armie said.
“He says you’re good at pool,” Audrey said. “He’s complimenting you.”
“He’s not complimenting me, I can assure you.”
“They said he could have gone pro,” Josef said.
“What does Felson mean?” Melody asked.
“Paul Newman? Fast Eddie Felson? How do you not know The Hustler? You’re a movie—”
“Josef!” Charlie shrieked. “Zip it!”
“Sorry!”
“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” Melody said.
“They didn’t say that about me,” Armie said.
“They did. He’s good. I’m not joking.”
“Let’s talk about something else, please,” Armie said. “Why don’t you tell us about how you cheated on your wife?”
“Whoa,” Josef said. “Whoa. That’s a big leap there, boss! Straight to the big guns!”
“Come on,” Charlie said. “Lay off.”
“I knew it!” Melody said. “You are an asshole. Just like Patrick. Charlie’s right about you.”
“What did Charlie say about me?” Josef asked.
“I didn’t say anything about you,” Charlie said. To Melody: “I didn’t say anything about him.”
“She said you ruined your marriage by being a fuckup and an asshole.”
“It’s true,” Josef said. “I did. I cheated on my beautiful wife many, many times. I think I have a problem and I’m seeking help. I’m not perfect, but who is, right? Are you?”
“I don’t believe you,” Melody said.
“What part don’t you believe?”
“That you want to change. You’re an asshole, like my ex-husband. And you like it that way. You don’t know any other way to be. It’s in your nature.”
Audrey looked back and forth between the two of them.
“That may be true as well,” Josef said. “But I’m suffering for it. As I’m sure your ex—this Patrick guy—is suffering without you.”
“I hope he and you are miserable forever,” Melody said.
Josef snapped his fingers. “I just remembered who this guy is!” he said, pointing to cowboy-hat guy. “His name is Craig. Or Chad. Something with a C . . . he was a year or two older than me and I’m just now remembering that he totally sucked.”
“You think everyone sucks,” Charlie said.
The Antiques Page 18
