by Ashley Munoz
“Theo, why are you acting like you're on speed? You just seem a little off?” I asked, while giving him the side-eye.
"No, why? Is this about the whole omission about Jimmy thing? I can explain that." He shuffled a pile of papers and set them atop another pile. "People are just people at the end of the day, and we aren't all perfect. I just didn't want to freak you out by telling you I was his dad or associate myself with him until he had a chance to redeem himself."
He turned on his computer and glanced at the screen while moving his mouse around; the whole thing was ancient, so different from Jimmy’s space.
"Theo, it's okay. I'm over your little omission. Although, getting publicly fired wasn't my favorite thing, and I would have loved a heads-up on that, but it's okay."
Thinking we'd moved past his awkwardness, I took out my own laptop and started it up.
Theo clapped his hands together and rolled his chair closer to his desk. “Look, Ramsey, I know I'm running a million miles a minute, but I am truly glad you are here. Jimmy may come off as a jerk, and I wanted to put my hands on the boy after you told me your story of him nearly running you off the road, but he has a good heart, and I was hoping you could work out seeing that for yourself."
Maybe I just needed to realize that Theo was odd. Or that something was off with Theo and he didn’t want me to catch on.
I held back the urge to roll my eyes and tried to focus on today's task. I thought about his greeting today and how he kept bringing up Jimmy. We were still practically strangers, so why was he pushing the Jimmy topic so hard? Theo was up to something and I suddenly wondered if it wasn't Theo's choice that I work here as an accountant. Maybe I was just paranoid, but it felt like he was trying to keep me distracted from something, and I had a very strong feeling that he didn't want me peeking at those books. This should be interesting.
It had been an hour. One whole hour since I had requested to see Theo's books for the bar. Theo started his evasion by distracting me with stories. He leaned back in his squeaking, old wooden chair, and laced his fingers together on his stomach.
"Did I ever tell you that time Jimmy nearly lost an arm?"
That was how he hooked me the first time. Because, of course, I hadn't heard that story. I hadn't heard any stories, except for the ones he shared with me that night in his bar. I sat forward, laughed, and even asked questions as he told me story after story. By hour two, I had caught onto his tactics and when he asked me questions about college or my life, I would keep my answers short. I didn't want to be rude, but I was getting irritated. I was even getting to the point where I wanted to write out an email to Jimmy to beg for some advice on how to get through to his dad, and then add in a little tidbit about how this was my job and I shouldn't be made to feel like the dirty IRS peeking around. I wrote it out and then deleted it five times.
Theo ordered lunch from a burger place down the road. An older man named Sal, with salt-and-pepper hair, a thick Irish accent, and a protruding beerbelly delivered our food. When Sal saw me, he asked how my cousin Gina was doing. Theo blushed and started stammering about how I wasn’t related to Gina and how I didn’t have any relations to anyone who danced down at the ‘Love Lounge.’
After clearing all that up, Sal left, and we enjoyed some delicious burgers and fries. I gladly spoke with him about whatever he wanted to talk about while we ate and by hour three, I finally started figuring Theo out. I talked to him about fishing, and his grandkids, and asked a million questions about his late wife. By hour four, he had given up and let me view everything I needed to see. That answered my earlier question about why he was so weird. He didn’t want his son Jimmy involved in his books, because Theo was loaded.
The revenue from the bar was decent and covered paying the few employees he had, as well as utilities. The building itself was paid off and he didn’t have any other loans out. He was fine on budgeting and keeping up with his orders. The bar on its own was doing fine, but it was the overwhelmingly large cash reserve that caught my attention.
I scratched my neck and then began to rub my temples. My gut started to turn at the idea that Theo was probably into something illegal. It was no secret that Sip N Sides was a local favorite for its cheap liquor and greasy food. It was also well-known that the pool tables were old, the carpet faded, that was barely held together and even ripped in some places. Duct tape held most of the stuffing in the seats. It didn't exactly scream steady income or big money. The regular customers were mechanics in greasy overalls, biker guys in their leather cuts, or some flannel-wearing truckers. So, as I stared at all the zeros in the cash reserve, I kept coming back to the same conclusion: Theo was doing something illegal. I pictured Theo running drugs or maybe he had killed someone. Was this his payout? "They call me the Ripper…"
Oh my gosh. I suddenly pictured Theo ripping into bodies and hiding drugs in their chest cavities. Ewww. I needed to stop. But what if it was true? What if Theo was into something illegal? Would I turn him in? I pictured Theo as a grandpa and thought about how some of those nice people get caught up into mob life situations. How the mob was a family business, and I pictured myself keeping Theo's secret, so he wouldn't go to jail. I mean, I couldn't do that to Jasmine and Sammy. No Ramsey, you'd just go to jail. No big deal.
I looked at Theo and waved my hand towards his computer from my spot across his desk. All his files were now on my computer as well, but I still had my feet propped up and my hand out, gesturing towards his ancient relic of a computer system. “Theo, do you have something you would like to tell me?”
I didn’t want him to think that I would snitch, so I took my legs down slowly, leaned forward and steepled my fingers under my chin, to give him my most intense look possible before continuing, “I mean, if there is something you need to tell me, you can trust that you are only telling me, and I have a pesky habit of deleting things.”
I was entertaining the idea of shutting up again. I could be in the mafia. My pulse was jumping, doing massive overtime, just thinking about some guy named Vinnie walking through the door any minute.
Theo's thick white eyebrows drew together in confusion. “What?” he tried to clarify with me. “Are you implying that I am hiding something?”
His white hair had fallen in his face now, and I sat up taller in my chair and thinned my eyes on him; it took all of my strength not to wink at him.
“Aren’t you, though? Isn’t that why I'm here?”
He was frozen. Mouth open, eyes wide, hair in his face, hand on the mouse, frozen. I was starting to get uncomfortable as he just stared at me, then finally, he broke his weird staring match with me and looked at his computer screen. He blew out a huge breath and laced his hands behind his head before continuing. “I guess you would find out sooner or later, girl. This is why I didn’t want Jimmy to put you in here, poking around.”
I knew it. I just knew it, and now we would have this secret, and I was going to be officially in the family business. That, or I was going to die because I knew too much. Definitely one or the other, and I was really hoping for the family business one.
I realized I was being freakishly quiet and in my own little world when Theo called my name again.
“Ramsey, did you hear me? It’s not what you think.”
Oh. It’s not what I think…then that means…
“Theo, if it's not something illegal, then where did all this money come from? You can’t blame me for being a little surprised. I mean, who has over one hundred grand sitting as a cash reserve for their mediocre bar?”
Theo threw his hands forward and laid them on the desk. “Look, Ramsey, when my wife died, she left me a life insurance claim, as well as part of an inheritance that she had received from a deceased relative. Jimmy knew about the life insurance claim and demanded that I put all the money away for retirement. He wouldn’t even take a dime of it to start up his bar.”
Theo was running his hands through his hair now, but his eyes looked strangely peaceful, like it was takin
g a load off of him to share this with someone. I relaxed, hopefully to encourage him to continue, which he promptly did after drinking some cold coffee.
“The life insurance claim paid for Loretta’s medical bills and funeral mostly, and I tucked some of it away in my retirement fund, but in her will, Loretta made it clear that the two-hundred-thousand dollar inheritance was to go to Sip N Sides, so that Jimmy could take it over with a clean slate and be debt-free, and make it into something great. She had always wanted something that stayed in our family, something that would go on for generations. That’s why she didn’t leave the money for Jimmy personally; it’s strictly for Sip N Sides.”
I was leaning forward now on the desk with my hand propped under my chin, in full on listening mode. What a sweet gift that Loretta left them. I was getting caught up in the story when I realized I was utterly confused. “Wait, why all the secrecy then? Why don’t you want Jimmy to know what is going on over here?”
Theo moved forward a few inches in his rolling chair. “Jimmy has always hated Sip N Sides. He has never really shown interest in owning the bar, and I was always hesitant to bring him into the business anyway because it was such a debt magnet. We were never in the black, always running red in the books. It was an embarrassment, and when Jimmy worked here as a teenager, he knew it was a money pit. It took a few years to get things balanced, and for the banks to release the money and for the IRS to take theirs.
“The day I planned to tell Jimmy about the inheritance for the bar, he told me about his idea to start his own in Rockford, and laid out his entire business plan. He told me about how Jackson had already fronted the money, and I couldn't stop him. I couldn’t do it to him, I didn’t want to keep him here and hold him back from starting something on his own, and I knew then that if I had offered him Sip N Sides, he would feel like he didn’t earn it. He would feel like he was just getting a handout, so I shut my mouth and just kept it a secret, waiting to decide what to do. You might not know this, but Jimmy is trying to push me to retire.”
I couldn't understand why Theo didn’t want to retire; shoot, I would be on an island somewhere if I had a hundred grand to float by on. “So why not retire, then? Why not sell? I know Loretta wanted it in the family, but you can’t force Jimmy to take it.”
Theo had this look on his face, the type of look that said he had a plan, but wasn’t going to share it with me, and I didn't have another four hours to try and get it out of him. Still, at least he responded, “I have a plan, it will just take some time. Meanwhile, I get to hire pretty new employees like yourself.”
I smiled at him, cheeky bastard.
“Yes, and hopefully update some of the nasty carpets around here,” I said with a laugh. Theo slapped the desk and let out a laugh. “Not a chance, darlin’, not a chance.”
I knew he was trying to move the conversation forward, but I couldn't help but ask. “Doesn't Jimmy already own half the bar? That's what he told me when he fired me.”
Theo folded his hands and creased his eyebrows. “Technically, he does, but he's a silent owner. He doesn't check in or anything, maybe that's why he put you here, to feel better about it.”
That made sense, I guess. This whole thing seemed strange, but I just shrugged and decided to let it go.
After our talk, I couldn't stop smiling, I knew something that Jimmy didn’t know, and it made me feel closer to Theo, and cooler somehow. I always liked feeling cooler than other people.
The rest of the day flew by rather quickly. I asked Theo a little bit more about the origins of the bar, and a few more financial questions, then fell into an easy silence, until he spoke up again.
“So, your mother and I are both attending the big bingo bash this weekend in Chicago. It's a big night on the town, they even booked us a group of rooms at a hotel near the hall. I guess it's a championship of some kind, should be fun.”
My eyes shot up to his in surprise. I didn't know that my mother agreed to go. I had heard her say something about Chicago and bingo, but I didn’t catch any of the details. My face must have betrayed how worried I was because I felt Theo's hand gently land on mine.
"What's wrong, hon?"
He probably knew what was wrong, but didn't want to put his foot in his mouth by assuming. I searched for the words to say, to explain how worried I was about her leaving without completely falling apart.
"I'm just… I'm worried about her. I'm worried something might happen…" Damn tears. Damn them! I blinked to keep them away, but the more I thought of something happening to her while I was away, the more they crept in. I swiped under my eyes and stood up straight. "She needs someone on standby; medically, I mean. If something happens…"
I looked down at the nasty, outdated carpet, not ready to face Theo's assuring face. He patted my hand and kindly said, "Since the senior center is setting it all up, they have three RN's tagging along. She'll be okay. I'll call you immediately if anything at all comes up."
His assurances worked for now. I knew my mother was stubborn and was going to live what life she had left, so asking her not to go was out of the question. I also knew she'd step up her matchmaking game if I tried to tag along. So, it helped knowing that Theo was going and that he would watch out for her.
“I know my mom is excited, and it means a lot that you are going as well. Just… watch out for her.”
“Of course. You know that I will, Ramsey. What will you do with your weekend since you are suddenly free?” Theo asked, while shuffling a few small piles and placing them onto larger ones. I cringed at the chaos and directed my focus back on his word choice.
I love that this man said the words, “Suddenly free,” like I actually had a life of some kind. He didn’t need to know that, though.
“Oh, you know me. I’m sure I will get some kind of invitation for fun from one of my billion friends here.” Maybe I should go see Laney…
“Well, I'm sure a pretty girl like yourself will get an invite to do something,” Theo said with guarded confidence, like he didn’t want me to go have fun with a date, just like a dad would sound with his daughter. My heart melted and my eyes stung. He was making this whole hating Jimmy thing so difficult because they were all a big package. Him, his dad, and his kids—they lived together, and were affected by who Jimmy dated together. I let out a quiet breath so that Theo wouldn’t hear me. I didn’t want to respond, but I did anyway.
“Yeah, I'm sure I will get something.” Something; vague, oddly hopeful, and completely a lie. Me and the local stray cats knew that I was working with absolutely nothing.
Grocery shopping had always been one of those weird life tasks that actually brought me joy. I knew that most people hated it, but I didn't mind it, just as long as I had a list and I was by myself. One of the perks of owning my own business was that I got to set my own grocery shopping hours, and I didn't have to shop with everyone else who got off work after five. I enjoyed my shopping slot, where all I had to worry about were the stay-at-home moms who were usually sporting a few kids, and the elderly people who were usually in the produce or natural foods aisles. I especially liked to shop on Thursdays. It just seemed like the best day to do my weekly shopping.
But today, as I walked down the cereal aisle, I couldn't help but feel irritated. I had somehow managed to keep Ramsey at bay all week by keeping her at Dad’s bar. I started this whole mess by sending her to Sip N Sides, all because I felt rejected. I actually understood where she was coming from. It wasn't that she rejected me, though; it was that she affected me, and that was dangerous. I liked her, but I also wanted to stay far enough away from her, that she couldn't hurt me. I couldn’t actually date someone seriously unless I was just that—serious. The kids deserved stability, and I wasn’t entirely sure I was ready to trust someone to that degree again.
I steered my cart to the side of the aisle and grabbed a box of honey nut something and chocolate puffs, then headed towards the canned goods. I was worried that I had set up a new wall between Ramsey with the
whole email thing. I wished that I wasn’t so prideful, and I could just text her something funny, something a friend would text.
I knew beyond everything that Ramsey had to stay in our lives, simply because the kids loved her, and I needed to clear up some of the stuff I tried to put on her and just be her boss, and hopefully her friend. The problem was, I had no idea what to text, except to ask her to come back to Jimmy’s. So, I pulled out my phone in between the chili and the diced tomatoes and punched out a text.
Me: Hey Ramsey, I know I have had you helping Dad all week, but could you come into Jimmy’s tomorrow at nine?
I stuffed my phone back into my jeans and kept going down the aisle. I piled in at least ten cans of chili and then headed towards the produce. I wasn’t even staying on track with a list today, I just knew we needed food in the house, and I couldn’t help but gravitate towards the comfort kind. I started steering the shopping cart to the frozen food section when a small voice piped up behind me.
“Jimmy, dear, how nice to see you.”
I turned around and saw Carla standing there in one of her adorable tracksuits and a green beanie.
I smiled at her and leaned down to give her a hug. “Hi, Miss Carla, how are you?”
She smiled but it quickly turned into a frown. “Well, I’m okay, but"—she shifted on her feet and turned her body more towards me, like she was ready for a serious conversation—“I will tell you, Jimmy, I am worried about Ramsey.”
Her eyes darted around, like we were sharing a secret. I felt my stomach flip a few times.
I leaned forward, sensing that she wanted our conversation to be discreet. “What do you mean, you are worried about her. Is she okay?” I asked, trying to shove down the panic in my voice.
Carla let out a sigh. “Yes, she’s fine, but this week, she has been in a mood and I still haven’t forgiven her for—" She stopped, her eyes roaming back and forth over my face as if she might find her next word there somewhere. "Oh, never mind. She's just been in a mood, and I worry that she's not thinking clearly about specific people or situations."
