by Carter Ashby
Maya stared down at her shaking hands. She fisted them to stop the shaking, and then stood and stepped into the hallway. Addy was there, waiting, and grabbed her for a hug. “I’m so freaking proud of you, Maya.”
Maya stepped back. “I got excommunicated from Sunday morning ladies class.”
Addy laughed. “Maybe we’ll start our own class. For people who want to be part of the solution, huh?” She looped her arm in Maya’s. “Come on, let’s go get your kids.”
CHAPTER SIX
Jayce’s church was an old warehouse that he’d bought with two other guys and converted into a gym years ago. He’d hired a manager to run the place and used the same accountant, Zoey, for the gym as he did for the bar. He came here most mornings to work out, since he didn’t have a woman to take care of or any semblance of a social life.
Usually his best friend, Kellen, would be holding onto the punching bag. But today he had to settle for Norris Gilmore, the manager. Also, his father.
Norris leaned into the bag, his back foot braced hard. Jayce threw his punches hard, pouring all the power he could into them, knocking Norris back with each hit. Sweat flew off Jayce’s body with every impact. His hair was soaked, his tank top clung to his drenched torso.
At last he ran out of steam, but he summoned up the power for one more punch before stumbling back to the edge of the boxing ring, where he’d sat his water bottle.
“Seem angry, boy,” Norris said. “You think about me when you hit like that?”
“Every time,” Jayce said before gulping down half the bottle of water.
“You’re so pissed at me, why don’t we climb in the ring?” No one else was around on a Sunday morning. The gym wasn’t even open, but since it belonged to Jayce, he could work out whenever he wanted.
“You wanna fight me now that I’ve expended all my energy?” Jayce asked.
“I’m an old man. I need every advantage I can get.”
Jayce managed to smirk. He wasn’t interested in fighting his father. He wasn’t interested in fighting at all. But within him burned a strong, survival instinct. Because of that, he worked out like a boxer. Even sparred with some of the guys who were in training, the real boxers. He could offer them a challenge, though he’d never be their competition.
“Know what?” Norris said. “I don’t think you’re mad at me at all. That kind of anger can only come from heartache. You got woman problems, Son?”
Jayce flipped him the bird and downed the rest of his water.
Norris let out a coarse and gritty chuckle. “What’s her name? Maybe I’ll try and bang her before you get a chance.”
This was Norris trying to goad him. Jayce hated being goaded. It was an insult. Like he was so simple minded he couldn’t see right through the barbs. When this happened, he stayed stone cold and went for humiliation rather than a beat-down. Which was why he’d bent that guy’s finger back at the strip club. Guys like that weren’t worth fighting. And neither was Norris.
Jayce tossed his bottle in the trash and headed for the showers. “Wipe down that weight bench,” he ordered.
He heard Norris’s “fuck you” before disappearing into the locker room. Norris would do what he was told. He’d work because it was an easy gig and because no one else in the world would hire him.
Jayce cleaned up, dressed, and headed to Belle’s diner for lunch. Being Sunday, right after church, the restaurant was quite busy. He was about to sit on a stool at the bar, but then a hand wrapped around his arm. He turned to see Addy smiling up at him. “Hey, you here alone?” she asked.
He grinned. “Unless you wanna keep me company.”
She linked her arm in his and started leading him toward a table. As soon as they cleared a few yards, he saw that Zoey was there. She smirked at him and he smirked back. “Great,” she griped, but it lacked her usual bite.
“I’ll sit at the bar,” Jayce said.
Zoey sighed heavily. “It’s okay. We’ll tolerate your presence.”
“Don’t do me any favors.” He slid into the booth across from Zoey. Addy slid in next to her.
“So you look invigorated,” Addy said. “Good workout?”
He nodded and opened up the menu that was already on the table.
“Hey, Jayce.”
He looked up to see a cute waitress smiling down at him. He flipped his coffee cup over so she could fill it. “Hey, Lacey.”
“How are you doing?” She rubbed the bulge of her belly, and his eyebrows shot up. For some reason, panic shot through him. The sight of pregnancy could do that, even though the laws of time and biology meant that this was definitely not his. Lacey had been a couple years ago, before he’d met Janice.
“Good,” he answered. “You look—glowing.”
She beamed. “I am. I got me a husband and this is our first.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you. Are y’all ready to order?”
“We’re waiting for one more,” Zoey said.
Lacey told them she’d be back and went on her way. Zoey laughed. “That look of panic,” she said.
Jayce exhaled and sipped his coffee. “It’s just instinct to do some quick mental math. Who are we waiting for?”
“Maya.”
The panic flashed through him again. “Oh. You know, if this is a girl thing—”
“Maya!” Zoey shouted, waving her hand.
Jayce dropped his head back and took a fortifying breath.
His back was to Maya, and she couldn’t see him until she was right there at the table. She started to slide into the booth and then hopped back away. “Oh, God, Jayce. I didn’t see you there.”
“I can go.”
“Sit!” Zoey and Addy said in unison; each shooting him a glare before they smiled up at Maya. Addy said, “Sit, Maya. You have to tell about Sunday school.”
Sunday school? Jayce moved over a little farther so Maya could have plenty of space. The way she was tensed and squeezing her arms to her sides, it was obvious she didn’t want to be next to him. She did glance over at him and smile bashfully. “Hey, boss,” she greeted him.
His heart fluttered. God, it was so pathetic. He smiled back. “That’s Mr. Boss, to you.”
She giggled and started shrugging out of her coat. He would normally help a woman out of her coat. He knew a thousand little gestures to make a woman feel at ease and cared for. Jayce wouldn’t do a single one of them for Maya, though. They were too afraid of each other.
“So, Sunday school?” Zoey said.
Maya blushed and looked into her menu. “I told off Mrs. Kratz.”
Jayce didn’t know or care who Mrs. Kratz was, but he definitely wanted to hear this story.
Addy reached across the table and took Maya’s hand. “She was wonderful. They were doing another one of their 1950’s how-to-be-a-good-wife classes, and that hag had the nerve to suggest that a woman should stay with an abusive husband and win him to the Lord by submitting to him.”
Jayce watched Maya. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. “What’d you say?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I don’t even remember. I just went off on her. It was like, I’m always so afraid and intimidated. Mrs. Kratz is scary, you know?” She was looking at her girlfriends, but then she turned to Jayce.
Jayce couldn’t take his eyes off her.
She blushed and turned back to the girls. “Anyway, I just suddenly got angry. I mean, really angry, and I realized I was right to be angry. She was way off base, and to use her platform as a respected teacher in the church in order to bully me like that? No way. I’m done. I’m so done being treated that way.”
Her hair was down. Long, loose curls spilling over her shoulders.
“I’m so fucking proud of you,” Zoey said.
“It was a beautiful thing,” Addy said. “She even got support from a couple of the younger women in the class. If the bell hadn’t rung, she might have ended up fomenting a full-on rebellion.”
Maya was shaking
her head. “I honestly wasn’t trying to be rebellious. It’s just, if I don’t use my voice, no one will know how hurtful they’re being. I just want to think about myself for now. I need to figure out who I am and where to take my stands. I wanna be like you guys, walking around like you aren’t afraid of anything.”
Jayce felt he shouldn’t be here for these personal confessions. He was glad, nonetheless. Suddenly she turned to him. “I’m gonna call my kids whenever I want.”
He smiled gently, trying to tear his eyes from her lips. “You go, girl,” he said blandly, when what he wanted to say was, I love you and I’m so proud of you.
She laughed and nudged him with her elbow.
Body contact. Jayce’s heart went into overdrive.
Lacey came and took their orders. After she left, Jayce found that in spite of Maya’s declarations, she was still tense and awkward next to him. He watched her, studied her, desperate to do something to ease the tension permanently. “I’ve never been to church,” was what came out of his mouth.
She looked up at him. “Really? Not even when you were a little kid?”
“Especially not then.” And then he laughed. “Trying to think of Norris dressed up in church clothes and singing hymns—that’s pretty funny.”
“Well, have you ever wanted to go?”
“Hmm. No, can’t say as I have. Seems like I always felt sufficient enough guilt over my existence.”
“See, yeah, that’s exactly why I go. Because the stories make you not feel guilty. Have you ever read The Prodigal Son?”
He shook his head as he sat, angled toward her, his arm along the back of the booth behind her.
“Well, it’s about this son who demanded his inheritance from his father. Then he went out and squandered it and found himself in poverty. When he realized he’d hit rock bottom, he went home to his father, hoping he could live with the servants as a servant; however, his father welcomed him back with open arms and threw a huge party for him, proud that his son had returned.”
“Good story,” Jayce said, barely able to recall what she’d just said. There were so many elements of her pulling at his attention—her sweet lips, the strands of hair fluttering around her neck, the passion in there voice, her intense gaze.
“Yeah, but don’t you see what it means? It means no matter how bad we are or how low we fall, God loves us anyway.”
“It sounds good the way you tell it,” Addy said. “I think churches kind of mess things up, though. I mean, there are the Mrs. Kratz’s of the world.”
Maya shrugged. “I’m just happy to be around other believers. Sure, some of them are hypocrites and some are just there out of tradition or whatever. But there are some, like me, who really know how lost they are and really feel such gratitude to have something greater than themselves to turn to.” She turned back to Jayce and he dreaded the question coming out of her mouth. “Do you believe in God?”
He leaned back and thought about it, careful in his answer, not sure how important this would be to her. “I prayed when I was a kid.”
“And now?”
He frowned down at the table. “I don’t…not…believe in God.”
She smiled gently, and then turned back to Zoey and Addy, in effect ejecting him from the conversation.
“I believe in God,” Zoey said. “I don’t kneel and pray or anything, but I pray a lot during the day. It sounds like cursing to the rest of you, but when I scream out, ‘Dear God, give me fucking patience,’ I actually mean it.”
Maya and Addy laughed. “I’m open to the possibility of a God,” Addy said. “I just don’t think he’s intimately involved in the every day workings of humanity.”
Jayce snapped his fingers. “That. That’s what I believe.”
They all turned to him.
“What?” he said. “Addy always says things better than I can. But our brains are like—the same and stuff. Say more smart shit, Addy.”
She laughed and rolled her eyes. “I got you a word-of-the-day calendar a couple years ago, didn’t that help?”
“Apparently not.”
Maya was watching him again. He sobered as his eyes met hers. “I think it doesn’t matter whether God is real or an idea,” he said, “if it gives you hope. Hope’s pretty hard to find in those darker times.”
He was so caught up in her big, heartfelt eyes, he didn’t realize how quiet the table had gotten.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jayce’s bar was in a large building on the corner of a strip of buildings on Main Street. It was a brick, three-story. He lived in an apartment on the second floor and rented out the third floor to an artist for a studio. There was a green awning at the corner over the wood door, which was painted red and chipping.
Inside, the floors were plank and the walls were bare brick. Walking in, to the right and back, were four pool tables, a couple of dart boards, and an ancient pinball machine. In the middle of the room was the bar which spanned half the length of the room. Where it ended, a hallway started that led to the bathrooms, office, and the back staircase. The bar itself was built on a brick foundation with a shiny, polished wood top. Tall, wooden bar chairs lined the counter and behind it was a wall of liquor.
There were tables in the large, open part of the room, and booths along the wall. At the far end of the room was a double archway that led into yet another area with a small stage, which had never been used.
Monday, at a quarter to three, Jayce jogged downstairs to find Maya standing in the archway studying the dance floor and stage. Thankfully, she had on better shoes than she’d worn Saturday night. They looked brand new. “Do you have live music sometimes?” she asked without turning to him.
He leaned on the end of the bar. She was right on time. He’d scheduled her to open with him, figuring it would be good for her to know the ropes in case he ever needed her to open by herself. “No,” he said.
She turned to face him, frowning. “How come?”
He shrugged. “Got the jukebox. Just never got around to working in live music.”
She glanced back at the stage and then gave herself a shake. “I’ve got a problem,” she said.
“All right.” He stood up straight, broadened his stance, and folded his arms over his chest, because problems generally required a solid, dependable solution.
But his stance must have frightened her, because she shrank back. “Um, it’s my kids. On days that I open, I’ve got a bit of a scheduling conflict. Zoey can get home by five, but the kids get out of school at three. The bus usually drops them off at three-thirty. I’m having them dropped off here, today, but if that’s a problem, then I need to work something else out.”
He went cold. His skin turned clammy. Kids. His Achilles’ heel. Particularly her kids. Her kids scared the shit out of him, and he was fairly certain they didn’t like him in the least. “Uh, no. No problem. I mean—where did you want to put them?”
She hugged her waist, and her shoulders hunched inward. “Put them? Um, I don’t know. Where would be good for you?”
He looked around. “I guess they could sit at the bar. Or maybe at a table or something.”
“I’d rather they not be out here. I was hoping maybe your office?”
“Oh, yeah,” he laughed. “Yeah, that’s a better idea. Or they could watch television upstairs.”
“Upstairs?”
“Yeah. My apartment. They could crash there for a while.”
She bit her bottom lip, but this time she wasn’t doing it out of nervousness. Maybe she was holding back laughter. “They could crash? In your apartment? My five- and eight-year-old?”
“Sure,” he said, realizing his mistake. “I mean, I don’t know what Sophie’s beer preference is, but there’s Miller and Bud up there right now.”
“I think she’s a Coors girl.”
He sucked in a breath. She was letting him joke with her. “Damn. Well, maybe she can do shots instead.”
“Kindergarten can be a bitch sometimes.”
&n
bsp; He grinned and moved toward her. “Kindergarten?”
“Yeah.” She stepped back and so he stopped approaching.
“She probably can’t read yet.”
“Not yet.”
“That’s okay, ‘cause I got a lot of picture books. Well, they’re actually magazines. Maybe Matthew can read the articles to her. They have really good articles.”
“And pictures.”
“Really, really good pictures.”
She giggled. “You’re terrible.”
He wanted to touch her. Anywhere. Everywhere. He was standing too close, and he could smell her, fresh and clean and female. “Maybe the office will be better.”
“No alcoholic beverages or porn mags in there?” she asked, with a skeptical arch of her brow.
“I’ll stock it with chocolate milk and Dr. Seuss. I might have to clear my internet browser history. And there’s a calendar that’ll have to go.”
“Okay,” she said, through low giggles. “Well thank you so much. I’ll try to work something out, I know this isn’t your responsibility.”
“Don’t worry about it. Please.”
She nodded and rubbed her hand up and down her bare arm, looking everywhere but at him.
“Maya, honey, look at me.”
She reluctantly lifted her eyes.
“This--this scared kitten bit of yours? You can’t do that here, okay?”
She withdrew even more and looked away.
“It’s for your own good. Maybe you don’t feel confident, but you’re gonna have to fake it. This week will be good practice, because we don’t have the big crowds like on the weekends. You need to practice making eye contact, smiling, and defending your space.”
“Defending my space?”
“Yeah. Watch.” He took one step forward and she shrank away. “That. That right there. It has to stop. If I get in your space and you don’t want me there, then I’m the one who should leave. You—you just retreat and make yourself smaller. It’s not good, honey.”
