by Stuart, Amie
Up until ten minutes ago, he’d been determined to turn over a new leaf, clean up his act, and set a better example for Rene.
Toni. What was it short for, and where had she come from? San Antonio maybe? Nope. Not with that accent.
He watched Rowdy make his way through the thin crowd. Even though he’d divorced Rowdy’s sister a decade ago, his ex-brother-in-law would always be family.
“Thought you were playing with the guys tonight?” Tim asked, indicating the band filling in for the one Rowdy normally played with.
“Naw. Don’t feel like it and they don’t really need me tonight.” Rowdy settled beside him on the bench and sipped his beer. “What’s up with you?”
“Did you check out the tits on the new bartender?” Tim asked with a grin.
Rowdy’s shoulders shook with laughter as he nodded. Then he filled Tim in on how Aunt Susie had managed to score her new bartender. “You watch. She’s trouble with a capitol “T”.”
“How the hell do you know all this?”
“I was at Petey’s garage setting up his new computers when the call came in, and when he got back from towing her car.”
Tim frowned. Susie’s habit of picking up strays was gonna land her in hot water someday. Of course, he was a fine one to talk.
“How’s my favorite niece?”
“Hatin’ me—as usual,” Tim muttered and rolled his eyes. “I forgot to have the talk with her.” He groaned as Rowdy burst out laughing.
“So did you, like, give her a speech, and all. ‘You are now a woman, cook and clean.’” Rowdy chuckled into his longneck, and Tim briefly considered slapping the back of his head in retaliation.
“I tried to talk her and totally blew it.” That earned him another laugh from Rowdy.
What the hell would he do when she started dating? That thought gave him the willies. Hell, she was practically still a baby; he didn’t care how old she was. He raised the bottle to his lips and took a long pull off his beer.
“Well now—” Judging from Rowdy’s suddenly cheerful tone and the smile on his face, their conversation was probably over.
“Huh?”
“I think I just spotted my next Wife-For-A-Night. I’ll catch you later.” Rowdy stood and slapped him on the back before taking off.
With a chuckle and another sip of his beer, Tim watched him cozy up to one of the local girls.
And people have the nerve to talk about me.
A few minutes later, Susie cut a knife through the growing crowd, heading straight for him with a determined look on her face.
“I hear your new employee is some stray you picked up.”
“You didn’t seem too concerned about where she came from when you were drooling all over her a few minutes ago,” she scolded, leaning across the table. In return, he glared at her over the edge of his beer bottle. She could scold all she wanted; unless it was about Rene, her words didn’t work with him. Not after her little Spring Fling with Rowdy. The same one she didn’t know he knew about.
“Stay away from my new bartender.”
Stay away from my brother-in-law.
Tim listened to the band with half an ear and ignored the inviting glances sent his way. He just wasn’t in the mood for a game of hunt and chase with some filly, or anything else, his mind still on Rene. Guilt gnawed at his gut like a squirrel with a pecan. He should have stayed home. Maybe cooked her dinner or something. Were they supposed to celebrate or something?
He forced a smile on his face as he backslapped and bullshitted with people he’d known all his life. The bar was getting a little rowdy, and a little loud, but the guilt that said he should have stayed home also prevented him from leaving.
Instead, he grabbed a fresh beer from one of the waitresses and then headed out to the beer garden.
Even at half past eight, the summer sun hadn’t quite set. He found a deserted bench in a far corner and sat, trying to figure out how he could make up with Rene. Maybe he could take her shopping for some stuff for her room this weekend.
Or let her help him train Sonny. She’d probably like that better anyway. Damn. Some father he’d been, letting her run wild like a boy. Maybe he should have let Susie raise her.
He exhaled slowly and groaned in frustration, then jumped at the sound of a nearby voice.
“That was an awful serious sigh, Flirty Boy.”
He hadn’t heard Toni’s approach. Tim let her smoky, accented voice roll over him before remembering his manners and standing, his smile back in place. Something about her made his blood simmer and his jeans tighten, but he couldn’t put his finger on what. Besides that mouth and those tits. “Just thinking.”
“You mind if I sit?” She waved at the bench he was sitting on. “My dogs are a little tired.”
“No, go ahead.” No wonder he hadn’t heard her. Her canvas shoes, sporting a hole in one toe, had definitely seen better days.
She stretched her long legs out in front of her, eyeing him from beneath her thick, dark lashes. “You can sit with me, Flirty Boy. I don’t bite—as long as you behave.”
He slowly sank back onto the bench and propped his elbows on his knees so he wouldn’t have to fight the urge to look at her. It didn’t work.
“I hear your car broke down.” He glanced at her over his shoulder, then gave up and leaned back.
She nodded, flicking a long curl over her shoulder. “The old man, he says he’s going to have to special order my parts or go junking for them.” Before he could ask she added, “Radiator and a water pump. At the same damned time.”
“For a GTO? Petey’ll take good care of ya.”
“How’d you know it was a GTO?” She frowned at him in the dim light.
“Welcome to Bluebonnet, Texas, honey, where everybody knows everybody’s business. Where are you from anyway?”
“Vegas.” She sighed, then added, “Nevada.”
Like he didn’t know where Las Vegas was. “That’s an awful serious sigh. Were you in a hurry to get somewhere?”
“No—” She shook her head, “—it’s waited fifteen years, what’s a little longer?”
She couldn’t be any older than him. So what exactly had waited fifteen years? The soft, spicy scent of oranges and cinnamon teased him, distracting him from the question at hand, and even from Rene. And he could just make out the ragtag edges of a scar beneath the makeup on her jaw. Before he could stop himself, he’d reached up to touch it. She leaned away and turned her head, pulling a lock of hair back over her shoulder. Not that her evasive maneuvers had actually hidden the three-inch scar.
“I’m sorry.” He shouldn’t have touched her. He knew better. He’d just been unable to help himself.
She didn’t respond, only nodded, and he took advantage of the silence to study her for a few minutes longer. Lavender. Her eyes were an odd purple-gray color that reminded him of lavender, and he fought the urge to lean closer for a better look, figuring she wouldn’t like that anymore than she had his attempt to touch her scar.
With her head still turned away from him, she muttered, “Your aunt told me what happened. Must be rough raising a little girl all alone.”
Much as it pained him to admit it, Rene hadn’t really been a little girl in years. He shrugged. “That’s life.”
“I guess it’s my turn...I’m sorry for being so nosy. I don’t usually pry into other people’s business.”
And obviously expected the same in return. Point taken.
She struggled to her feet and gave him a cool smile. “I better get back to work.”
They said their good-byes, and he watched her walk away, limping a bit inside her beat up shoes. He sat there for a few more minutes wondering, thinking about her, about what or who she’d left behind and where she’d been going when she’d broken down.
He headed back inside, ordered one last beer from her, and slipped a ten in her tip jar. Hopefully, she’d use it on shoes.
Despite his fatigue and a nagging headache, Tim stayed until clos
ing, unable to take his eyes off of Toni, and he wasn’t the only one. She flirted with every man who came near her and emptied her tip jar often. She gave away nothing and held a lot back. The logical side of his brain shouted warnings. Tangling with her would be pure trouble.
After the stragglers finally left and the girls had cleaned up for the night, Toni reappeared. With the bar’s overhead lights on, the dark shadows beneath her eyes and pale skin were more visible. He stood and stretched, smiling at her while his blood raced a little quicker. “Need a ride home?”
She pursed her lips as if she was almost biting back a smile, then said, “I can walk.” She lifted the half-door and exited from behind the bar, a tattered denim bag slung over her shoulder. Again he found himself mesmerized at the sight of her hips swinging by. Almost to the point where he forgot to follow her.
“It’s awful dark out there.” Tim fell into step beside her and held the door open.
“It’s a ten-minute walk.” She waved a dismissive hand in his general direction and breezed past him, her silky hair brushing his arm.
Before he could make a final bid to keep her company, she took off walking. Tim stood watching the roll and sway of her hips as she crossed the parking lot. She never even looked back.
She walked like a damn queen, and he was now officially one of her subjects.
Damn.
I HUNG OUT with Delaney until she kicked me out, saying she wanted to be alone.
Dad’s truck was still in the driveway, but I didn’t see any sign of him as I circled the house and made the short walk to Sonny’s pasture. I climbed the fence, took a seat, and watched him for a while, my earbuds firmly back in place and music blaring. I found a sort of weird freedom in being able to shut the world out. Like I had my own soundtrack.
As bad as I wanted to hang out with Sonny, I knew better. I wanted Sonny more than I’d ever admit to anyone, but Daddy was training him to sell. The last time I’d asked to keep one of the horses he’d told me no, they weren’t pets, and this was how we paid our bills. As if I didn’t know that. I knew better than to get attached to stock, but Sonny was special. Just like me, he had no mom, and I’d bottle-fed him from the day he was born. I guess, in a way that made me his mom. Which made letting him go even more sucktastic.
I fixed myself a sandwich and carried it upstairs, curling up on my bed with my journal. I dozed off, and when I woke up, the sun was nearly gone, the bread on my sandwich was hard, and there was a note from Dad on the kitchen table.
He’d gone out—again.
With a frustrated sigh, I dumped my stale dinner in the trash and went back to bed.
LADY LUCK HAD smiled on me in the shape of Susie Boudreaux. She reminded me a bit of Miss Rose with her sassy attitude and willingness to help a stranger. She’d gotten my car towed, bought me lunch, given me a job and dropped me off at a nearby hotel.
I gave the night clerk a wave and pushed myself toward the elevator, past ready for bed. The hotel wasn’t fancy, but was fairly new and clean. The rooms were decorated in standard hotel fare of polyester bedspreads, indoor/outdoor carpet in a shade of red designed to hide the worst of bloodstains, and a mattress harder than the baked desert floor.
Susie Boudreaux had also lucked out. I’d been bartending on and off almost ten years. The money was good, especially in Vegas, and jobs were always easy to find. That’s why the freedom of bartending had always appealed to me.
I’d been going strong nearly eighteen hours, and as I swiped my key card, all I could think about was my bed. My room was cold as an icebox, and I adjusted the thermostat even as I yanked my T-shirt over my head and kicked off my shoes. First thing tomorrow, I’d buy me some new ones.
I was too tired for a shower, but took one anyway, since I didn’t know quite what tomorrow would bring. At least the hotel had good water pressure—they knew where to spend their money. I stood beneath the scalding, needle-sharp spray and let it work out the knots in my back and shoulders, my mind drifting back to Susie’s laughably arrogant nephew.
Tim was an incredibly handsome man but annoyingly pushy to boot. He’d gotten under my skin, but not in the way he’d obviously been hoping for. He looked nothing like his petite blonde aunt, which begged the question, did his daughter look like him? Rene was apparently just a few years younger than my Nichole. Did she have her father’s clear blue eyes? Or maybe she took after her mother. And what had happened to her mother? Maybe Susie was an aunt by marriage, and Rene was a blonde miniature of her.
Enough! Maudit!
I didn’t have time to be worrying over him or his child, not when I had my own child to worry about. And Tim could stay the hell away. I shut off the water and climbed out, dressing quickly in the chilly room. It was late, and I was tired. Tired enough for sleep to come quickly and painlessly.
For once.
Early the next morning I ran across to the grocery store and stocked up on a few essentials. Cinnamon donuts—though they would never take the place of my beloved beignets—and instant coffee for breakfast. Kellie, my new waitress friend, picked me up at eleven in her old, beat-up Chevy coupe. She was a tiny, buxom redhead. Close to my age, but she reminded me of a girl I once knew, another graduate of Miss Rose’s. Quiet and very sweet, very naive. How she’d ended up waitressing in a small town dancehall, I had no clue, and I wasn’t inclined to ask. I knew better than to go prying into people’s past. That kind of talk only invited questions I didn’t want to answer. If she wanted to share, she would.
After chatting with Kellie, I’d decided to see about renting an apartment. She swore her landlady would do a month-to-month lease, and I knew instinctively that the repairs on my GTO would take a huge chunk of my savings. The hotel could take the rest if I let it. Or I could rent an apartment and spend a few months rebuilding my nest egg. Staying here hadn’t been an easy decision. Not after finally deciding to return home. Obviously this hadn’t been part of my plan. But I could take a few months, a year even—not that I would—and truthfully, I was in no hurry to return to Louisiana.
“It’ll be nice to have a neighbor.” She chattered softly in her distinctive Texas drawl as we crossed under the interstate and headed up the service road. “Most of the gals from work have kids, ya know. And either husbands or boyfriends. Makes it hard when you don’t.”
“This is very nice of you. I hate not having my car.” The scenery between the dancehall and the apartments was dismal and flat, though not as bad as west Texas. Hot, slightly muggy air battered us through the open windows as we pulled into the parking lot of the Scenic Hills Apartments and parked in front of a scarred red door marked office.
“So, how long you think you’ll be in Bluebonnet?”
“I’m not sure.” Especially considering I had no idea how much the repairs on my car would set me back, but it was safe to assume I’d be here a while. Petey had said he’d call Susie as soon as he found the parts and could give me a price. Hmmpf.
“Do you have people waiting for you? Someone who’ll be worried?”
“Nope.” There was no one to worry about me anymore. Not since Miss Rose had died. Without the glue of her presence to bind us, we Waywards–as she’d called us—had drifted apart.
The complex was small—only about twenty or so apartments between two buildings that formed an “L” around the parking lot. The buildings were relics from another decade, worn and tired with peeling yellow paint that made them look as if they’d been left to bake too long in the hot Texas sun.
“That building there’s the one bedroom’s—” Kelly pointed while she talked, “—and these are the efficiencies.” Her nervous chatter continued as we climbed from the car and approached the office door. I wondered if she were afraid I’d back out. As if I had any better options.
“I live on the backside,” she added while we waited for the manager to answer our knock. “There’s a convenience store right up there—” she pointed to a store that sat on the corner of the highway’s access road, “—b
ut the closest grocery store is down by the bar. I usually go about once a week.”
That’s it. I want my car back.
Kellie and Susie had offered to vouch for me with the manager, and I could always use Tawnya or one of the other girls, but depending on people for rides and such was altogether different.
The door swung open, revealing the apartment manager, a rather large, well put together woman named Claudine. Claudine was blonde…and very obviously a smoker. I resisted the urge to rub my nose at the distinctive odor of dirty ashtrays.
“Oh, yeah. You wanted to see the efficiency, right?”
I nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Let me grab the key.” She disappeared into the shadowy office and returned with a key ring, laying out the terms as we walked. “No wild parties, no drugs, no littering, and no loud fights with your boyfriend. There’s two payphones in the laundry room.”
“And I have a phone, too” Kellie added anxiously.
I flashed her a smile as I stepped inside the tiny efficiency behind Claudine, and it struck me that I’d never really lived alone. For the last fifteen years I’d lived with Miss Rose and the assortment of strays she brought home. Strays like me.
How odd.
The carpet was apartment grade beige, the counters a hideous pea-soup green laminate, the sofa-bed a green and black tweed so damned ugly it was cute. A plain pseudo-pine table and four chairs sat in one corner. If this was their idea of furnished, I’d hate to see their idea of bare.
“What do you think?” Kellie asked, her tone anxious. “I have a TV. You can come over anytime and watch it. And a computer.”
“I’m not real big on the internet—or TV. Too much violence,” I muttered, poking my head into the little bathroom. A harvest-gold tub I wouldn’t have to share, and a matching vanity and toilet. I’d lived in worse.
“The bathroom opens up off the kitchen and the living room,” Claudine boomed from the kitchen entryway, adding with raised eyebrows, “And this apartment’s got an icemaker. I’ll do a month-to-month lease, but I need two months in advance.”
