Glimmer

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Glimmer Page 27

by Ashley Munoz


  Laney let out a snort. “You are so ridiculous. Did you sleep with the boss?”

  “Of course not!” I punched her in the arm because she already knew I hadn’t.

  She started rubbing the spot that I hit. “I’m just saying if you didn’t, you have to assume that the people Jimmy has worked with know him. Know that he wouldn't do that either. I think you are overreacting, personally.”

  I rolled my eyes because of course she thought I was overreacting. I decided to flip the subject on her. “Speaking of overreacting and being ridiculous, what is happening with you and Jackson?”

  She turned up the TV as if to dismiss me. After about a minute of watching Leslie Knope execute another brilliant plan, Laney pressed mute again. “So, the friend who showed up on Jimmy’s doorstep after Jimmy kissed you, the friend who you thought was hitting on you… That was Jackson?” she asked with a hint of worry in her voice.

  “Yeah, it was him. Someone had just majorly pissed him off and sent him running to his best friend. I wonder who that was?” I cut my eyes towards her and rolled them when I caught her gaze.

  She stayed quiet, so I continued, “It was a fake date. He interrogated me while simultaneously feeding me free food.”

  I caught a small smile spread across her lips. She looked down at her fingers and started messing with her nails.

  “You know he hasn’t been in a relationship with anyone?” she quietly said to the room. I waited, knowing it was a rhetorical question, then she kept going, “He and I, we’re so much alike it scares me. Everything about him scares me.” She was so quiet, she was practically whispering.

  I grabbed her hands and squeezed them. I noticed a tear travel down her cheek and I knew that whatever happened between them was too intense for us to talk about tonight, but I did want to know what her plans were for going home now that she had no car.

  “So, what’s the plan for getting back home?”

  She wiped her cheek and smiled at me. “I am actually going to let him drive me back tomorrow morning. Just makes sense, you know?”

  I looked back at the TV, not wanting to overstep any emotional landmines that she had set up. “Yep, that makes sense.”

  We sat in silence, watching Ron Swanson systematically try to take down the government. After about half an hour or so, we both had scooted our bodies down to fall asleep.

  I whispered to my best friend in the darkness, “I think I love him.”

  The words left my chest, and I couldn't take them back. I hoped that they might fall on deaf ears or invoke some argument to talk me out of it. Now that they were spoken, it felt final, especially now that my best friend knew.

  Still expecting her to fight with me or try to prove me wrong, I was surprised when I felt her fingers find mine and squeeze. I heard her whisper back, “I know.”

  I closed my eyes and let my body drift to sleep, hoping I would wake with more courage to face being in love with Jimmy Stenson—my boss, my friend, and the father to two beautiful kids.

  I walked into the house in a daze. Ramsey kissed me, she leaned in and initiated a kiss and it was better than I imagined it would be. She was soft and perfect. I was in over my head and even though I promised her that we would go back to being friends, there was absolutely no way that I could wait six weeks to kiss her again. I would just have to get creative and persuasive, she had no idea what she just started. I was still running my fingers over my lips, feeling like a teenager when I rounded the corner to the kitchen and found Jackson leaning against the island, eating cookies.

  He never ate sugar, so I took the fact that he had polished off an entire row of Chips Ahoy as a sign that things with Laney didn’t go well. I leaned against the counter and stayed quiet, waiting for him to spill. He finished his last cookie and started dusting off the crumbs, then he took a big drink of milk and let out a loud sigh.

  “I must have missed it,” he said, while keeping his eyes trained on the countertop.

  I looked where he was focusing and narrowed my eyebrows. “Missed what?”

  He let out a laugh and brought his hand up to run over his buzzed head. “Missed the moment that we lost our man cards. We basically handed them over to those two. I saw how you looked at Ramsey, and it’s only gotten worse since I was here last.”

  I put my hands in my pockets, mostly to prevent myself from touching my lips, as though I could summon the feel of her again. “Yeah, I guess we did.”

  It was all I could think to respond with. He wasn’t wrong about how I looked at Ramsey; it was the same look he gave Laney. The look of surrender, and finality. Jackson shuffled his feet and turned around to lean his elbows on the counter as he looked off towards the opposite side of the room. I wouldn’t push him to talk, he would do it when he was ready. “I’m taking Laney back to the city tomorrow morning…” He turned his head towards me and let out a sigh before continuing, “If she doesn’t change her mind tonight.”

  I felt for the guy. I had no idea what happened between them to make Laney so skittish around Jackson, but it must have been bad to make her this confused. I cleared my throat as I responded, “That’s progress, right?”

  He looked at me and seemed to laugh to himself. “Progress with Laney doesn’t exist. We just keep running around the same circular room, trying to find the corners. That's how maddening she is.” His face was drawn, his eyes tired, and his lips thin. He looked like he was in pain, or maybe just exhausted.

  I gave him a weak smile. “I feel your pain.” We both fell silent for a few seconds.

  Jackson looked up at me with tired eyes. "So, tomorrow. That still happening with Davis?"

  I shook my head. “He moved the meeting.”

  Jackson scoffed. “Of course he did.” I watched as Jackson shook his head in frustration. I bent down to grab my shoes.

  "It'll just give us more time to plan. It's fine." I started to head for the stairs, as Jackson let out a sigh.

  As I walked away, I heard him say, "I hope you're right."

  I hoped I was right too. There wasn't any other option, other than to trust that I was.

  Jackson left early the next morning, around eight, before the kids or Dad woke up. I took the moment to pull my calendar up and looked at Sammy’s soccer times, and reviewed Dad’s schedule. I noticed a few gaps where the kids might need rides or someone to help out with getting the kids from one place to another. I pulled out my phone, knowing it was early, but also knowing that Ramsey was probably up because Laney had left with Jackson. I punched her contact info and waited to hear her voice.

  “Hello?” Her voice was raspy and sexy as hell and suddenly, I needed her lips again, needed her here with me, needed the next six weeks to fly by.

  “Hey, sorry, did I wake you up?” I asked cautiously.

  She let out a laugh. “No, I was up because of Laney and her crazy ass.”

  “Good, I know it’s early, but I needed to ask you a question, and I had a feeling that you would be up.”

  I heard a few things in the background move around before she responded. “What’s up?”

  “Well, next week, I have an out-of-town meeting for club business, and noticed there might be a few days that Dad needs help getting the kids. Would you be willing to help out and be added as an extra emergency person on the kids’ school list?”

  I held my breath for a second because the heaviness of this question was weighing on me. I had never had anyone besides my Dad and Jackson for the kids, and it made me want to laugh and cry that we might finally have someone who would be there for the kids, for me, for us.

  “Of course, I will. Please add me, I would love to be there for them if they need me. Please tell them that too.” She sounded excited and it about made my heart burst.

  “Okay, thank you, I will get you added on Monday. So, what are you up to today?” I crossed my arms over my chest, hoping that she would want me included in her weekend. She let out a little chuckle, no doubt assuming exactly what I was getting at.
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  “My grandparents sent some money, so that I would specifically go and spoil my mom. So, I'm taking her shopping for some new clothes, and getting her nails done. You know, making her feel pretty. I promised her that I would watch some classic movies with her tonight while we eat some fish amok.”

  “What is fish amok?” I asked, a little judgment in my tone, because anything with fish was usually gross.

  “It’s a Cambodian favorite. There is a restaurant in Rockford that serves international dishes. I called and asked if they could fix us two plates of the fish amok, and they agreed. My mom is so excited, and I would be happy to save you some if you’d like,” she finished with a giggle, because she probably knew that I was grossed out.

  “That is so kind of you, I would love some.” I wouldn't admit my total and complete hate for all things fish-related. She laughed, really laughed, from her belly, or her soul, and I loved it, I was smiling like an idiot.

  “Okay, you got it, buddy. I will save you some, but it probably won’t taste very good after too long, so what are you doing tomorrow?”

  I couldn’t keep the smile off my face and it probably came through in my voice, “Apparently trying fish amok. That, and practicing soccer with Sammy, grocery shopping, and probably some family movie with the kids. Would you like to join us?”

  I wanted her to join us so badly that I was worried that I would start begging her at some point. I was so relieved when I heard her reply, “I would love to join you, what time would you like me over?” I realized in that moment that I had no dignity left with this woman.

  “Is breakfast too early? I think the kids would love to make you some of their famous blueberry pancakes. I heard it was something they were hoping to make you that morning that Jackson rudely showed up and sent you running home.”

  She was silent for a moment and I worried that I pushed it too far, but she let out a sigh and responded with an obvious smile in her voice, “The kids make these famous pancakes, huh?”

  I smiled. “Yep, they are legendary. Will you be there, 8:30? Or earlier, if you would like to platonically cuddle me.” She was laughing again and I laughed with her. I couldn’t help flirting with her, I had to get her to kiss me again.

  “I will be there at 8:30, and I will bring some coffee and hot chocolate.”

  “Okay, have fun with your mom today, and if you get the urge to sneak away tonight and tell me about your day in person, I would like to remind you of the key to my house that you are in possession of.” I was laying it on thick and I didn’t care. I would give her six weeks, but I would make it as easy on her as it was going to be on me.

  “Okay, bye, Mr. Stenson, I will see you tomorrow.” She emphasized the tomorrow part of her goodbye, unfortunately.

  “Bye, have a good day.”

  I hung the phone up. This was going to be a long day. Good thing I had a ton of work to go over with my Dad. I was finally going to go over the books from Sips N Sides with him, and Dad had no clue whatsoever.

  It had been six hours. Six hours of arguing, fighting, talking, laughing, arguing again, until finally Dad agreed to go over the books with me. Six hours of my life that I will never get back, and at one point, I thought I was going to punch him in the face and demand his computer. It even got so bad that I almost called Ramsey, ready to ask that she forget her relaxing day with her mother and come over here to force my father to talk.

  Thankfully, I didn’t do any of those things. I just waited and there I was, looking a computer screen, showing me that my father has already paid off the bar, started remodeling it at Ramsey’s suggestion, and was sitting better financially than I was. I was shocked. I had always assumed that the bar was drowning in debt, and the reason my father wouldn’t go into retirement, but I was wrong, so wrong. I sat there, staring at the screen, and all of the zeros, and wasn't sure what to say. Finally, I brought my fingers under my chin like a wall, and looked over at my dad.

  “So, were you ever going to tell me about this?” I sounded petty, and I felt petty. I felt like my Dad was keeping secrets from me, and it rubbed me the wrong way. What was worse, was the feeling that Ramsey was in on the secret. I took in my father's face, his pale blue eyes, and his weathered skin. He still looked so strong, but I could tell he was tired.

  “Of course, I was going to tell you, eventually, but I didn’t want to burden you. You just started your bar, and I didn’t want to add any stress to your plate. I’m doing fine and didn’t need to mention anything to you about it.”

  He had already gone through almost an entire bag of chips, and two glasses of cream soda, so I could tell this conversation wasn’t easy for him. Sugar and salt were always his comfort food when he got stressed out. I pushed away my concern for him and pressed on with my questions. “Where did you get this kind of money, Dad?”

  I was worried that he had gone back to the MC, to that life. Maybe not the Brass, but a different club. I was starting to panic because he couldn't go back, not after everything, not after my dying mother made him promise. I had my fists clenched and my jaw was tight. The more I pictured my mother as she begged my father to never return to that life, the angrier I became.

  Dad cut into my thoughts just in time. “Jimmy, it’s nothing like what you're thinking. So, calm down. Your mother, she left me an inheritance. Aside from the life insurance, she left me the remaining money from a trust that her dead aunt had left her. She wanted it to go towards the bar. The will had strict stipulations that it was to be kept in Sip N Sides, for you, but you didn’t want it,” my dad finished with a defeated sigh. He sounded heartbroken and I could physically feel my mother's disappointment through the look on his face. He and my mother had started Sip N Sides together as a fresh start, Mom had a dream that it would stay in the family forever and be something that would bind us together and, more than anything, it would keep me and my father away from the biker life. I knew she wanted something substantial to keep me away from them, but was probably worried about giving me the money directly. I closed my eyes and pushed away the disappointment that my father and, most likely, my mother had in me. I knew that my mom just wanted me away from the MC life and would have been proud of what I started. Still, it stung that I rejected what she had left for me. I didn’t know how to fix this, I knew my Dad was waiting to retire, and from the looks of it, it was now a game of who to leave the bar to since his selfish son didn’t want it. Now that there were hundreds of thousands of dollars invested into it, who could he trust to take it?

  “Dad, what if Jackson and I took the bar and turned it into…”

  “No. Stop, just stop it,” my dad interrupted me and started waving his hands around as if to dismiss me. “Your mother wanted a family establishment, not some fancy, souped-up business bar. No offense. But you are not taking this bar and flipping it into anything.” He looked so endearing, but he was infuriating. Why was he being so stubborn about this?

  “Is that in the will? Mom didn’t want it to be turned for more profit? That is hard for me to believe, Dad. I think Mom would have wanted us to capitalize on this opportunity.”

  Dad looked out the window and a sadness passed over his face. I knew talking about Mom was difficult for him, so this conversation must be torture.

  “Yes, it is in the will. She wanted it to stay as the Sip N Sides, a low-key bar, and restaurant. She fell in love with Belvidere and wanted our family roots to stay here.”

  I pulled my hands up and rubbed my face with them. “Then what are you going to do, Dad? Run it forever?” I practically shouted at him, and I hated myself for it, but he wasn’t coming up with many options that made sense. He refused to let it out of the family, but didn’t want me to run it because he knew that I would flip it. But he was getting older and needed to retire. This seemed like a lose-lose situation. I scrubbed at my face some more and stood up to grab some water. I took the moment to peek out the window at the kids, and saw they were still jumping on the trampoline. Dad was playing with the tag from a b
ag of bread in front of him. It was quiet in our kitchen, my question just hanging in the air, probably because there wasn’t an answer. Finally, Dad spoke up.

  “I want to leave it to Ramsey.”

  He turned his head to stare at me while I drank my water. A weird feeling wormed its way through me—a feeling of betrayal, or jealousy, like the two of them had planned this. I shook my head to get rid of it, I was overreacting. I placed my glass against the granite counter a little harder than necessary and asked, “What do you mean you want to leave it to Ramsey?” My tone was immature, even incredulous, against my attempts to quell the feelings.

  He straightened his back and squared his jaw. “I mean, that I want to retire and have Ramsey take over. You can stay on as half-owner, as long you sign a legal document stating that you will never try to sell it or change the name, unless you are facing financial ruin or bankruptcy.”

  I was trying to stay calm and keep my feelings to myself. I knew I was overreacting to this whole thing and I needed time to process it, so I responded with something simple.

  “Why Ramsey?”

  His face softened as he answered. “She’s been like a daughter to me, from the first moment she sat in my bar and poured her heart out to me. She has a good soul and I want her to have a reason to hang around once her mama passes on. I want her to have family, and I can’t count on you not screwing that up for me.”

  He smiled at the end of that statement, trying to make a joke out of it. He knew how I felt about Ramsey. Even though we had never talked about it, I am sure that he knew. The thought of having her stay here with us, be with us, softened the blow a bit, and the more I thought of her as a business owner, the more sense this whole thing made. But the sting was still there—they had left me out.

  “Well, when do you plan on asking her?” I finished off my water and headed back towards the table.

 

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