A Special Obsession

by A. M. Hargrove

  When I get home, I pop the cap off a beer and take a long swallow right before I place the call to Jeb.

  “Weston, this is a surprise.”

  “Tell me everything you know,” I say.

  19

  Special

  The worst news came from my landlord today when he told me the owner decided to sell. This is devastating. It means A Special Place might not be able to reopen for a while or not at all. He doesn’t want to deal with the repairs, which means all my employees might look for work elsewhere, and I won’t have an income.

  “He has to do the repairs in order to sell.”

  “Yeah, but he doesn’t have to renew my lease. It’s up in less than two months.”

  “Buy the building,” Jeb urges.

  “I can’t afford it. I have money saved, but not that kind of money.”

  “Go to the bank and get a loan. Or at least check into it.”

  We’re sitting in my apartment at my little bistro table. My gut is gnarled up at the idea of having to close. I never thought this would happen. Out of all the scenarios that roll around in my head, losing my place of business because of a stupid accident was never one of them.

  “I don’t know, Jeb. That building is worth a lot. Way more than I can secure with what I have.”

  “What about Mimi’s farm? Could you use that as collateral? Have her cosign?”

  “No. I would never ask her to put the family farm on the line. What if something happened?”

  “Special, the way you work? You wouldn’t let anything happen.”

  “I couldn’t do it.”

  “Know any investors?”

  “Ha-ha. That’s real funny.”

  “We’ll come up with something.”

  “I hope you have a miracle in your hip pocket because that’s what we’re going to need,” I say.

  Jeb pats me on the back and leaves. I decide to visit Mimi and Cody for the next couple of days. Maybe staying with them will clear my head and talking it over with Mimi will give me some ideas.

  My arrival coincides with Cody’s coming home from school. I tell Mimi I’ll meet him at the road to save her the trip.

  “Honey Bear!” he cries as he runs toward me with his arms stretched wide. His little backpack is stuffed with God knows what, but I wrap my arms around him and instantly all my worries fade. Feeling his little body against me and his soft curls brushing my cheek always puts a smile on my face. I have no idea what I’m going to do when he gets too old to want my hugs anymore.

  He pulls away and gives me a lopsided grin.

  “Well, my goodness. What did you do to yourself?” I ask.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Aren’t you missing something?”

  “I don’t think so.” His forehead crinkles as he thinks about it.

  “Well, I don’t know how you’re able to chew your food without that other tooth up there.”

  Then his mouth opens wide and he laughs. “I forgot! I lost my other top tooth, and the tooth fairy left me another quarter.”

  “I think you’re getting rich from those teeth.”

  His giggles fill me with joy. This kid has a way of turning a dark day into a sunny one. “Whatcha doin’ here? It’s not Sunday and we’re not having mashed potatoes.”

  “What if I told you I came here to tell Mimi we needed mashed potatoes on a Thursday?”

  His large eyes widen and match the shape of his mouth as it forms a circle. Then he asks, “Really? How ya gonna do that?”

  I crook my index finger and motion for him to follow me. “Come on. Let’s get on the red scooter and you’ll find out.” After a painfully slow ride up the road to the house, because I’m always extra careful with Cody on the back, he yanks off the oversized helmet. Which reminds me, I need to get one that fits him properly.

  “Hurry!” he yells.

  We run up the front porch and through the house until we get to the kitchen, where Mimi sits at the table. When she sees us, she claps her hands. “Well, look who’s here!”

  “Yeah, it’s not Sunday, but can we have mashed potatoes?” Cody blurts out.

  “Hmm, I don’t know.” Mimi pretends to think hard.

  “Please, Mimi. I’ll clean up my room real good,” he begs with his small hands clasped together. I have to cover my mouth to stop the laugh from creeping out. I’m not sure how Mimi holds a straight face.

  “All right. But only because you’ve been so good lately.”

  He jumps up in the air and nearly knocks her chair over. This kid and mashed potatoes. He’d rather eat those than candy. He spins so fast he almost crashes into me. “Did you hear that, Spesh? We’re gonna have mashed potatoes, and it’s not even Sunday.” Then he tears out of the kitchen for an unknown destination. Mimi and I can only stare.

  “That boy is a force. He’s like a bowling ball with arms and legs when he knocks into you,” she says.

  Cody is strong and stout. He doesn’t have an ounce of fat on him either. He’s so easy to please and even-tempered—so much like his mother. “If only mashed potatoes could put a smile on my face like that,” I say.

  Mimi pats my arm. “I wish they could,” she adds somberly. “Have you made any decisions?”

  “No. And the upcoming holidays make it even worse. Those people are counting on their jobs.” I plop down on a chair at the kitchen table.

  “Special, let me loan you the money to buy the place. I’m going to lease all the land anyway. It’s no use for me to hold off on those final few acres. Mr. Hughes has been after me to rent it for his cattle. I’m sure he’d take the barn too.”

  “Mimi, we’ve been through this. That’s not an option.”

  “You’re not thinking clearly.”

  Scowling, I say, “You’re the one who’s not thinking clearly.”

  “I have money put aside and you can borrow it. I would charge you interest so it would be a good thing for me too.”

  I run my finger across the worn fabric of the tablecloth. The pattern on it is nearly transparent at certain points.

  “What if the bar fails? Or the other tenants move out and I can’t pay the mortgage?”

  “The bar won’t fail. It’s only grown in popularity. And you said the shop next to yours does great business. I can’t say anything as far as the apartments go, but if they’re maintained well, I can’t imagine why it wouldn’t be a prime rental. Your bar doesn’t have a live band so the music isn’t loud.”

  She makes some good points. But taking money from my aging grandmother isn’t an option. I need to get the money elsewhere, but that’s the problem—there is nowhere else.

  “I can’t do it, Mimi. I just can’t, so please don’t offer it anymore.”

  “Jeb will find a solution. He always does.”

  “I’m not sure he will this time,” I say.

  Cody flies back into the room. “Special, can we go outside and play catch?”

  “Okay. But what about that room you promised to clean, buddy?”

  “It’s not too dirty.”

  This time there’s no way I can stop from laughing.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You.”

  He gives me that goofy toothless grin again. “Me? Why?”

  “Just because. Come on or we won’t get much throwing time in.”

  That’s all it takes and he dashes out the back door. He already has a football in his hands when I get there and he instructs me to, “Go deep.” I hide my chuckle from him. Backing up a bit, I wait for the ball. The kid has a great arm, not to mention an accurate one for being so young.

  “Who taught you how to throw so well?”

  “Mr. Jeb.”

  I’ll have to thank him. I knew they played when Jeb came out here, but I never paid a whole lot of attention to them.

  “Hey, you’re pretty good at this.”

  “That’s what Mr. Jeb says. He says I have a real good arm.”

  We toss the ball until the light dims. Th
en I tell him it’s time to go inside. “Just one more,” he says. When we’re finally done and back in the house, he says, “Honey Bear, you’re not a very good football thrower. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings out there.”

  “Thanks, Cody.” Mimi is at the stove, as usual, and I see her body shaking. “Maybe you can teach me how to do it the next time.”

  “Okay, that’d be cool.”

  “Now go clean up your room before dinner.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  When he’s finished, he calls me into his room so I can check it. “Great job, kiddo!” I fist bump him.

  Pretty soon Mimi calls us to eat. After dinner, we sit and watch TV and I ask Cody if he knows what next week is.

  “You mean Thanksgiving?”

  “Yes. And what comes after that?”

  “Christmas.” He claps his hands. “I need to write Santa my letter soon.”

  “Yes, you do. Do you know what you’re going to ask him to bring you this year?”

  “Yep. I want a sled and some snow.”

  Oh, shit. How am I going to manage that?

  “Er, sometimes Santa can’t necessarily help with the weather,” I say.

  “Why not? He lives at the North Pole. He could just bring some of that snow with him.”

  “But you see, he has a lot of area to cover, and by the time he got here, it might have melted.”

  Cody’s brow furrows, but then his eyes brighten. “But, Honey Bear, it’s Santa. He can fly in his sleigh. I think he can work it out.”

  “Hmm. You may be right. Well, is there anything else you’ve been thinking about?”

  “Yeah. I really want to go to Six Flags and ride all the rides.”

  Oh, shit again. I hate rides. They make me sick. I’ll have to suck it up.

  “That would be so cool!” I say it with as much enthusiasm as I can muster. “Anything else?”

  “I want to go to a Braves game and a Falcons game. And I wanna come live with you.”

  He says it in the most innocent way. He doesn’t see the hurt in Mimi’s eyes, but I do even though he didn’t intend it that way at all.

  “So, big guy, I would love to have you live with me, but I work way late into the night and you can’t stay by yourself.”

  “I know. That’s why Mimi needs to live with you too. I don’t want to live without her. I want to live with both of you.”

  Glancing at Mimi, I notice her smiling now. But he has a good point. My brain churns with ideas on how that could work out. Just one more thing to add to my ever-expanding list.

  After Cody’s bath, I put him to bed. He kneels down to say his prayers and he asks God—not Santa—to bring him all his Christmas gifts. What he wants most is for all of us to live together because he says he misses me too much to only see me on Sundays. My heart cracks into tiny bits by the time he’s finished and I wrap him in my arms.

  “Cody, even if I only see you on Sundays, I hope you know I love you with every part of me. You are my world.”

  “I love you too, Spesh.”

  He climbs in his bed with his football themed comforter, and I sit there and stare at this beautiful little kid. I want to bang my head against the wall for several reasons. The first one is for not going to college and being trapped in this lifestyle of mine. If I had gotten a degree, maybe I wouldn’t be so dependent on owning a bar. Instead, I might have a different career today that would include a decent salary. Cody and I could be living together and I wouldn’t be so damn stressed right now. Then there’s that stupid drunk fuck who’s ruining everyone’s lives. If he had been responsible about his drinking, none of us would be in this position.

  Then it hits me. Weston was right about the drunk driver. I need to sue his ass. If he hadn’t crashed into the bar, we’d all be working and I wouldn’t be dealing with this shit right now.

  20

  Weston

  I’m at my desk, working on a new design when the phone rings. I’m more than a little surprised to see who it is. This is the fourth time she’s called and I lost count of how many times she’s texted. I ignored her calls and only texted her back with terse responses. I’m doing my damnedest to remain firm, but she’s persistent and admittedly, she’s wearing me down.

  My stare down with the phone is useless. “Special, so now you want to talk? I guess ignoring your calls won’t keep you away like I’d hoped.”

  She clears her throat, saying, “It takes more than that to keep me away. First, I want to apologize.”

  “You said that in your text.”

  “I’m really sorry.”

  “That’s what your text said.”

  Her breath rattles into the phone. “I was a jerk.”

  “I couldn’t agree with you more.”

  “I don’t know what else to say.”

  “Why don’t you tell me why you’re really calling. I know it’s not just to apologize.”

  “I have a favor to ask. Remember when you told me to sue the drunk driver who crashed into my bar? I’ve decided I want to do it, only I don’t know any attorneys. I figured you had connections, so I was wondering…” her voice trails off.

  My resistance unravels and I say, “I actually think that’s a great idea. Not only to help you, but to prevent him from doing it again. I’ll help you on one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Go to dinner with me.”

  After a brief silence, she says, “I will, as long as it’s not to one of those fancy places that uses twenty pieces of silverware.”

  I bark out a laugh. “No, we definitely won’t go to one of those places. I promise.”

  “And it has to be somewhere I can wear jeans.”

  “Anything else, Princess?”

  “I thought you called me Spike.”

  “I used to before you became so demanding.”

  Somehow I can sense her smiling through the phone. “You’d better get used to it if you want to hang out with me.”

  “I think I can handle it, Princess Spike.”

  A loud chortle hits my ears.

  “Princess Spike. I don’t know if I should be impressed or insulted.”

  “Definitely impressed. No one else in the world could carry off such a dignified title.”

  “Hmm. I’m not so sure of that, but I’ll take your word for it. So, you’ll help then?”

  “Didn’t I say so? And we’ll have dinner tonight?”

  “Tonight will be fine. Oh, damn. I’m staying at Mimi’s.”

  “That’s not a problem. I can pick you up there.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  “Not at all. Is six thirty okay?”

  “That’s fine.”

  After we hang up, I wonder how we went from not speaking to having a date tonight. Then I remember I need to contact a lawyer for her. I call a friend of mine who works in litigation and give him the details. He assures me he’ll handle it and that it should be a slam dunk, given the man was drunk out of his mind. When I tell him he may still be in jail, he becomes a bit leery.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “That may be an indication he couldn’t afford bail, which could also indicate he has shitty insurance coverage for this, which means your friend won’t recover much. It’ll all depend on what kind of policy he has, but don’t worry. I’ll check on it and let you know.”

  “Thanks. Let me know what you can. Oh, and I’ll be covering all expenses,” I tell him.

  I leave work at five thirty. That’s a little early for me, but fuck it. I don’t stop by my father’s office on the way out. It’s not his business. The drive home isn’t bad for a Friday afternoon. After a quick change into some jeans, I get on the road to Mimi’s. I’m a few minutes late due to rush hour, but Cody runs out to greet the Ferrari when I arrive. Mokey barks her hello too.

  “Hey, Mr. Western,” Cody says as he opens my car door. “What kind of fancy car is this?”

  “It’s a Ferrari. Do you like it? Maybe we can go for a r
ide sometime.”

  “I like it okay. I like trucks better,” he says.

  “I have a truck too.”

  “Can I drive it?”

  “My truck?”

  “Yeah. Mr. Jeb lets me drive his truck.”

  Special opens the front door and calls out, “Cody, come back inside. You’re both going to freeze.”

  “I told Mr. Western that Mr. Jeb lets me drive his truck.”

  He’ll never get my name right and I chuckle. Special says, “Uh-huh. Finish telling him inside. You don’t even have a jacket on.”

  I grin at Cody as he scoots up the steps until my eyes land on Special. She wears tight jeans and a loose fitting long-sleeved black sweater that hangs off one shoulder, exposing a black lacy tank top and some of her ink. She looks extraordinary. Too extraordinary. I blink slowly as I ogle her. Shit! My dick tries to reach out and shake her hand. Right now, it would settle for shaking my own hand. Jesus fuck, I need an adjustment. Her black hair gleams as it hangs down her back in a solid wall of satin. My fingers twitch, itching to touch it. What a damn shame they can’t. I lean in, pressing my lips to her cheek and get a hint of lavender. My dick must’ve gotten a whiff too because it fucking dances in my pants.

  “You look beautiful,” I whisper. I have to bite my tongue to stop from licking her neck. What the hell is wrong with me?

  “Thank you.” She smiles. “Not bad for Princess Spike, huh?”

  “Oh, God, no. Not bad. So good, Princess.”

  She looks at me oddly. No wonder. I’m stammering and salivating. “I’m as far from a princess as you can get.”

  “I disagree. You’re far from being a diva, yes, but a princess …” Did I just moan?

  Then Mimi calls out as she enters the living room, “Well, look who’s here.”

  God bless that woman. She must really like me because she gives me the warmest hug. I bend awkwardly at the waist so my horny dick doesn’t accidentally rub against her. Ugh, I’m disgusting. She steps back and inspects me. Fuck, I hope she doesn’t notice my damn dick.

  “I believe you’re looking better than ever,” she announces. “I hope you’re feeling better too.” I fold my hands in front of my pants.