by S. Cook
“Oh, I think I do.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“And no matter where life takes you, you’ll always be my son, and I will always love you. Your mother too. And that includes anyone you want to bring into our lives.”
“Same here, Dad.”
“So, she chased you, huh?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re just going to leave it at that?”
“She doesn't want anything to do with me.”
“And the feeling is mutual?”
“If you heard our last conversation, then you wouldn’t be asking me that.”
“She said hurtful things to you and hurt your ego. You said hurtful things to her and made her feel weak.”
“How did you-”
“That’s how all fights go,” he said with a chuckle.
“But those things were all true though.”
“That may be, but throwing her weaknesses in her face doesn’t gain you anything. In fact, it just pushes her away even more.”
“No, she does that all on her own.”
“I see.”
“I don't know what to do.”
“Sometimes we just have to be patient. Women don't like to be rushed or forced into things they’re not ready for, even if they say they are. They like to do things in their own time. The real question is, are you willing to wait for her to sort it out in her own time?”
“I am,” I said firmly.
“Then that is what you do. You wait. You don’t call her, or text her, or push her.”
“Won’t she think that I’ve moved on with my life if I don’t?”
“She was the one who chased you away. She has to find her own way back to you.”
I stretched my leg and rubbed the sore muscles with my hand.
“I guess that makes sense. Thanks, Dad. You always know what to say.”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
Chapter Twenty-Three: Lynette
I took a large gulp from my glass and once again realized why I was not a big drinker.
“This stuff is gross,” I choked out, trying not to cough.
Cheryl looked up from the floor where she was sitting and laughed at my expression.
“That’s what you get for buying two-dollar wine,” she said. “I told you we should’ve went with vodka.”
“I can’t stand the smell of liquor anymore,” I said.
We were in her apartment, drinking wine, and I must admit, I didn't feel as lonely as I had for the last few days.
Isolating myself from the outside world wasn’t healthy, I knew that, but it was the only way I knew how to deal with the emptiness inside me. It was only when Cheryl staged an emergency intervention, when I came to realize I was driving myself crazy and making her worry too.
“It’s all they had,” I said, giving the rest of my wine glass the evil eye. “Maybe it will grow on me after a few glasses.”
“Yeah, because by then you’re too drunk to taste anything.”
“Still, it was cheap, so why not?”
She smiled half-heartedly and looked at the bottle.
“Where is it from?” she asked.
“The grocery store down the road.”
“No, I mean where was it made?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “The cashier said it was imported.”
“Like a cashier at the grocery store is a wine expert?”
“Good point. Next time I won’t go under five dollars for a bottle of wine.”
She shook her head at me.
“At least the cheese and crackers are good. It’s kind of hard to screw that up.” She lifted the plate up to me. “Do you want more?”
“No, it might kill my buzz,” I replied. “Actually I don’t see how I can drink enough of this wine to get a buzz going. It’s awful. I’ll take a few more crackers.”
After a few seconds of silence, I finally had the courage to say, “I fired my last two employees.”
“Oh, god. What are you going to do now?”
“Nothing. I’ve decided to close the bar.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to sell it or just shut the whole thing down?”
“I don’t know. It’s in my Dad’s name, so I’m not sure what’s going to happen with it. All I know is that I can’t work there anymore, not after what happened. Too many bad memories to keep it going.”
“What are your plans now that the bar will be out of the picture?”
“I don't know,” I answered honestly. “I've never had to figure anything out like this before. I guess I need to start looking for another job. Or file for unemployment. I don’t even know if I’m eligible for that.”
“Or maybe you can call Gabriel?”
“No.”
“God, you’re so stubborn.”
“You didn't hear the things he said to me.”
“You told me what he said. The things were all true.”
“You’re on his side now?” I asked in surprise.
“Think about it. You do push away anything good that comes your way. You’re scared of going out on a limb, you are comfortable in your own little miserable life.”
“You’re not being helpful, you know. My best friend is supposed to be supportive and on my side.”
“I wasn't trying to be helpful. I was being honest, just like he was.”
“He basically told me that I was a sucker for punishment that I inflict on myself.”
“And he’s right.”
“Fuck you, Cheryl.”
“Well, fuck you too.”
She reached over and touched my hand. “You know I love you, right? You deserve a better life than what you’ve had lately.”
I sighed and shook my head.
“You just don’t get it.”
“Then tell me.”
“I’m scared, okay. I’m scared that one day he will wake up and realize what a screw-up I am. That he’ll realize that what he thought was love, was only pity. That one day, he’ll realize that I wasn't worth the effort. I’m also scared that I’ll do something that will make him leave.”
“Let me get this straight,” she said. “You chased him away on purpose so he wouldn’t possibly leave you later?”
I ran my fingers through my hair and sighed miserably.
“In a nutshell.”
“You should call him.”
“I can’t. He doesn't want anything to do with me, not after what I said.”
“Then apologize. He’ll get over it.”
‘You didn't see his face. I hurt him. I sent him back to Maine with a broken heart. He won’t forgive me.”
“Fuck, you’re so dramatic,” she muttered as she filled up our glasses again. “Here, drink up.”
“Wine’s not going to fix this. Especially not this cheap shit.”
“It might not fix anything, but it might just give you enough courage to call him.”
“I’m not calling him.”
“What’s his number? I call him. Give me your phone.”
“Don’t you dare,” I warned. “Enough meddling from you.”
“Fine. Just don't mess this up. Sometimes we don’t get second chances. In life, you have the grab the good things and hold on tight. Don’t be a dumbass.”
“It’s already messed up, so it doesn't matter anymore.”
“Your feelings got hurt, so what? Shit happens,” Cheryl's voice had a hard edge to it.
“Stop it. I mean it.”
“We both know you. You're afraid to get close to anyone. Hell, I'm surprised we've been friends this long. And I think that's only because I'm such a shitty friend.”
“Cheryl-” I started.
“Cut the shit. I'm a terrible friend. You got beat up by your dad and disappeared for three days and I didn't even notice.” She continued to talk over my protests. “But that guy, Gabriel, he's not bad and he loves you. And you deserve to be with someone who loves you. You’re on
e of the good ones.”
“I know he loves me, but I want to be someone. An actual person not this mess that I am right now.”
“Oh honey, you are someone. And he sees that.”
I looked at her, unable to answer. I wanted to nod. I wanted to believe that her words were true, but they weren’t.
“Stop it right now,” she said.
“What?”
“Stop thinking that everything I just told you was a lie.”
“Cheryl,” I sighed.
“Listen to me and listen well. That guy loves you, and you clearly love him.”
“I don’t know what love is any more than I know what I’m going to do.”
“Well, Gabriel came here because he felt guilty about Terry’s death. He wanted to make things right with you.”
“Because he’d promised Terry. It had nothing to do with me.”
She shrugged.
“Sure at the time, but stayed. He put his plans on hold because he felt something for you. He helped in the kitchen because he wanted to lighten your load. He took care of you when your dad attacked you.”
“He also got Dad arrested.”
“Because he was protecting you. He wanted to make sure that you were safe. It’s past time someone in your life stepped up to help you.”
I looked at her and knew she was right.
“I don’t know how to fix this.”
“Call him. Or at least answer the next time he calls you.”
“He hasn't called.”
“Because you told him to fuck off.”
“How is this supposed to encourage me? Clearly he doesn't want anything to do with me anymore. He probably found himself a pretty blonde girl from his hometown who’s saving herself for marriage.”
“Well, she’s in for a treat,” Cheryl said with a smirk.
“It’s not funny.”
“Are you now insanely jealous of the blonde virgin from Maine, even though she doesn't exist?”
“Maybe,” I muttered and chewed my lip.
“Why?”
“Because...” I sighed.
“Say it.”
“Because he’s not supposed to be with her.”
“And why not?”
“Gabriel is supposed to be with me.”
“Why? What do you have to offer him?”
I glanced at her and knew exactly what she was doing.
“Because I am strong and tough, and soft and vulnerable, and I have more to offer than my miserable circumstances.”
“And?”
My shoulders drooped and I looked at her.
“Keep going. You’re not finished.”
“I bake wicked good brownies, and an even though I have a foul mouth, I have a heart of gold. And I deserve him, because no one on this earth is ever going to ever love him as much as I do.”
“Yes!” Cheryl cheered and smiled at me. “You’ve got it now. Now go get him before it’s too late because eventually if you wait too long it will be.”
I exhaled and felt relieved, like a giant weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I knew what I had to do, but first there was a few loose ends I needed to take care of first.
I grabbed my phone and dialed Matt, the banker’s number.
“Matthew Bell,” he answered on the third ring.
“Hey Matt. It’s Lynette.”
“Hello. How are you?”
“I’m okay. Listen, I need to speak with you about the bar. Is now a good time?”
“Sure. I’m listening.”
“I don’t know if you’ve heard, but my father was arrested almost two weeks ago.”
“I heard, yes. Unfortunately nothing stays personal for long around here anymore.”
“Clearly not. Listen, I’ve make a decision to sell the bar, and pay off all his debts and loans.”
“That’s a smart move. Getting rid of that place would probably the best thing you can do for you and your father.”
“Right. The only thing is, the bar is in his name, and he’s in prison right now.”
“He’s still there?”
“Yeah, I don’t have the money to bail him out, and even if I did, I still wouldn't. Not after what he did.”
“You’re going to let him stay there?”
“Yes. He’s awaiting trial. This is a good chance for him to dry out. It’s hard to get liquor in jail. My question is can I sell the bar without his consent?”
“No, you’ll need him to sign a few documents stating that he waives all rights as the owner, and gives his permission for you to sell it, as well as use the money to settle his debts.”
I bit my lip and looked at Cheryl.
“What?” she mouthed, but I just sighed.
“Okay. I’ll have the papers drawn up and take it to him.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I have to face him sooner or later. I might as well get it over with.”
“Okay then. I will have the paperwork sent over to the bar and will notify the bank of your decision. If you’re serious, I might even know a buyer for you to talk with.”
“Thank you, Matt. I really appreciate your help.”
“Any time. It’s been a pleasure helping you.”
I smiled, even though he couldn't see my face and disconnected the call.
“What just happened?” Cheryl asked.
I placed my phone on the ground beside me and said, “I’m selling the bar.”
Cheryl cheered with excitement and threw her arms around me in an enthusiastic embrace.
“I’m so proud of you.”
“Don’t be just yet. I still have to take the papers to my father to sign.”
“Right, because he’s the owner.”
“Yes.”
“You’re doing the right thing. Don’t back down or second guess yourself.”
“I know.”
God, I hoped so.
Chapter Twenty-Four: Lynette
I clutched the brown envelope tightly as I was escorted into a waiting area by an officer in a dark blue uniform. He led me to a chair in the middle of the visiting booths. My heart pounded loudly in my chest.
This would be the first time I’d seen my father after he’d been arrested, and no doubt he hated my guts. I placed the envelope on the table and took a few deep breaths to calm myself.
Officer Reynolds, as it read on his badge, stood beside the door. His presence was comforting. At least I knew there was someone who had my back if my father decided to lash out. Then again, Dad was only violent when he had too much to drink, or anything to drink for that matter.
I wondered how he’d managed these last two weeks without a drop of alcohol. Going through withdrawal must be hard on him. Not that I cared at this point.
The more I thought about him, the more nauseated I felt, but I couldn't back down. I had come too far to quit now.
I’d realized that I wasn't just doing this for me, I was doing this for my mom too. She’d always told me that I deserved to be happy, and that I had to follow my dreams. She told me I could be anything I wanted to be.
It seemed such a long time ago to hear her words.
All I wanted now was to be free, because heaven knows, I’d been caged up for way too long.
The door swung open and I was too afraid to look back over my shoulder. I sat perfectly still until my father, who looked old and haggard, came into view and sat down on the chair on the other side of the table.
“Hello, Dad,” I said, my voice strained.
“Came to visit the piece of shit, did you?” he asked, his words cutting deep. “What are you doing here?”
“This isn’t a social visit, so don’t feel important.” I slid the envelope towards him and said, “I need you to sign these papers.”
“I’m not signing anything.”
“Well, I’m not leaving here until you do.”
He eyed me suspiciously and cleared his throat.
“What are they?”
“I’m selling t
he bar and using the money to pay off your debts.”
“Ah,” he said with a smirk and sat back in his chair. “So you need me after all. I knew you would come around sooner or later wanting something.”
“No, I don’t, but I thought I’d be decent enough to do it the right way. I’m trying to help you one last time.”
“The right way?” he barked and laughed bitterly. “I’m surprised you even know what that is.”
For once, his words didn’t upset me. I was here to get this done and wasn’t leaving until I did.
“I don't have the patience to deal with your sarcasm, or your patronizing comments. I need you to sign the papers, that’s it. You’ll never see me again, and I can go on with my life.”
“With that cripple boy?”
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand, but I love him.”
“I loved your mother and she left us.”
“You should have also loved me,” I told him.
“I did, but after Delores died...”
“Your love died with her,” I said flatly.
He glanced away, unable to meet my eyes.
“Your mother was the love of my life, and it hurt me to look at you. You’re exactly like her. Even now.” He looked at me, regret in his eyes and nodded. “I’m sorry, Lynette.”
He waited for me to respond, but I didn't. I was done with his sad looks and his expressions that demanded sympathy. I was done giving in to him because I didn't want to seem like a rebellious daughter. I was done with being the one who always just pretended his actions did nothing to hurt me. Most of all I was done pretending that everything was okay, even if it wasn't.
“I’ll do anything to make this right,” he said. “Just get me out of here and I’ll make everything up to you. I promise. Things will be different now. I’m dried out and will do better. The two of us together can fix the bar up and run it right. Tell me what I need to do to fix this.”
“Sign the papers,” my voice sounded stern and filled with authority. I wasn't sure who was more surprised, me or Dad.
He took the papers out of the envelope and I handed him a pen. I showed him where to sign and he did it.
I can’t believe it.
Despite the feelings of disbelief and relief that filled me to the core, I didn't show it, because he didn't deserve to see it. He didn't deserve anything from me any longer.
