by Freya Barker
The collective mumbles are approving and I borrow the carafe from Shirley as she walks by.
“Enjoy your breakfast,” I tell them when I’ve filled their cups.
“Thanks, girl.”
“Bring your A game tonight, Robin,” Eddie says.
As I walk away, I can just hear John’s response.
“You are so going down, my friend.”
I pick up the next order with a grin on my face.
“Hey, sweetheart. How are you?”
I toss my purse on the couch and sit down, kicking off my shoes.
“I’m okay.”
Her listless voice sends off alarm bells. Paige has been home for a few weeks now and I’ve talked to her a few times, but haven’t heard her this dejected.
“Talk to me,” I invite.
“He showed up after work today. Let himself in while I was in the shower and was sitting on my bed when I came out. I almost had a heart attack.”
“Hope you took back his key.”
“Technically he threw it at me, but yeah, I got it back.”
“Little shit needs to—”
“Mom, it’s fine. It may have been after I pelted him with my hairbrush.”
“Tell me your aim was accurate,” I blurt out, pissed on my girl’s account, but I soften when I hear her snicker.
“Bloodthirsty much, Mom?” She falls silent after that, and I can feel the tension through the phone. “It was ugly,” she finally says in a subdued voice. “He came to collect the Kate Spade purse he got me for Christmas. Can you believe that?” I make a sympathetic sound, but I’m guessing she doesn’t really want me to answer. That is confirmed when she continues with a great deal more piss and vinegar. “I told him he could have the damn thing, but I wanted back the wireless Powerbeats Pro earbuds I got him. He got me a pink purse, Mom. Pink. You know I don’t like pink. It should’ve been a sign, but I guess I wasn’t ready to see it yet. He’s totally clueless. Guess what he said?” Again, I know better than to say anything, so I do no more than make an encouraging sound. “He said he’d be willing to forget everything and take me back if I apologized to his mother.”
“I hope you told him where to get off.”
“Well…sort of. That’s when I chucked the brush at him.”
“I don’t blame you, sweetheart,” I soothe, hearing the tears in her voice.
“He was right, you know?”
“Josh?”
“God,” she wails dramatically. “To think I used to like that name. No, not him, Gray.”
“You talked to Gray?” Guess I missed something.
“Yeah, at the diner. Remember? Before that woman—”
“Right. I remember,” I quickly interrupt, holding up my hand. Don’t want to revisit that scene.
“He said Josh was no match for me. That he wasn’t man enough.”
A smile spreads on my lips as I put a hand on my heart. I love he said that to her. Love he found the exact right thing to say to my baby girl. It’s the truth; that momma’s boy was not a good match for my daughter. I’m not sure anyone is.
“Gray is right, sweetheart. He wasn’t. You deserve someone who knows your favorite color is blue and your favorite ice cream is plain vanilla. Someone who always puts you first and will do anything to see you happy.”
“Is that Gray for you, Mom?”
For a moment I wonder if it’s too soon to share my feelings with my daughter, but she’s an adult and I want her to know there are good men out there.
Men like Gray.
“He is.”
“Tell him ‘thank you’ for me.”
“I will. Love you, baby.”
“Love you more,” she says, like she has since she was three years old.
Gray
“It looks a little rough.”
A snort escapes me.
“Ya think?”
It’s a little slow at Olson’s, so Jimmy suggested we pick up the old bike from his parents’ garage and get to work on it. He’s determined to have it ready so I can join him and his buddies when the weather gets better.
Back in September, when I’d gone on a ride with them to a swap meet, I managed to pick up a few new parts, but I never got around to working on the bike.
The Knucklehead had been protected with a tarp, but it hadn’t been in great shape when I dragged it from the dump all those years ago. I just forgot how much work it needed.
We load it on the back of my truck—no mean feat, the fucker is heavy—I thank Jimmy’s dad, who came out to see what we were up to, and drive back to the shop.
“Sweet,” Kyle calls out when we back the truck into one of the bays.
He’s already climbing into the cargo bed to get a closer look by the time we round the truck.
“Fuck. I don’t even know where to start,” I admit when we get the bike down and set up against the back wall, where it’s out of the way.
“Take it apart and clean it up.”
“That’s a fuckload of parts to try and fit back together,” I tell Jimmy.
“Might as well do it right.”
We spend the next couple of hours taking apart as much as we can—with a fair bit of cursing at the numerous bolts and nuts almost fused with rust—until we have a bunch of bins filled with parts and only the frame is left standing.
“Look what I found.” Kyle holds up his phone, the picture of a buddy seat up on the screen. “They’ve got all kinds of original parts. You’re gonna need one of those.” He taps the picture and grins.
A mental image of Robin snug behind me on the back of the bike, her arms around me, stirs my blood.
“How much?”
Kyle stifles a chuckle, but Jimmy doesn’t hold back, he starts laughing out loud.
“You’re predictable,” he snickers.
“Yeah?” I pin him with a sharp look. “Last time I checked you had a bitch seat. Difference is, mine won’t be empty.” I turn to Kyle and repeat. “How much?”
Half an hour later I climb up the stairs to my apartment, a few hundred dollars lighter, but a grin on my face.
I walk into the bar, just catching Robin throwing her head back and laughing.
I’m not the only one paying attention, the three musketeers sitting with her at the table watch her too. Fuck, who wouldn’t, she radiates when she as much as smiles. It’s no wonder the old geezers flock to her; they’re as hungry as I am for her light.
“There he is,” Enzo announces when he sees me approach.
Robin twists her head around and greets me with a brilliant smile. It’s all I need. Seeing happiness on her face at the sight of me makes every struggle I’ve faced in my life well worth it. Heck, if I’d known this was at the end of it all, I would have greeted each day of my past with a smile of my own.
“Hey, honey,” she says softly, when I walk up to her. Ignoring everyone else I bend down, cup the back of her head, and kiss her soundly.
“Sunshine,” I mumble against her lips, before releasing her and finally looking around the table. “Guys.”
The three wear similar grins as they mumble their greetings.
“Need refills?”
“Not gonna say no,” John says, holding up his half empty beer. The other two follow suit and I turn my eyes back to Robin.
“You? Another wine?”
“Sure, I brought Zeus and left him upstairs.”
Her way of telling me she was spending the night. I’m good with that.
“Be right back.”
Bunker is cleaning glasses behind the bar.
“Refills for them,” I tell him, cocking my thumb at the table. “And I’ll have a draft.”
His mouth falls open.
“I thought you didn’t drink?”
I shrug. “I used to. Before I went in. Only if I had something to celebrate, though.”
His eyes knowingly flit in Robin’s direction and he grins.
“I see.”
I’m sure he does.
“I talked to Becca last night,” he suddenly says as he fills my order.
Not sure why he would bring her up, and I don’t know if I really want to hear what he has to say. Still, I raise my eyebrow in question.
“She’s leaving for Florida with my aunt. Just so you know.”
“Good.”
I know from Francisi, who had shown up at Olson’s last week, he caught up with Becca, who claimed she had no idea Mike had taken her key to the diner when he left her place. Said she didn’t miss it until later and she was scared she’d get in trouble. Bullshit, of course, but Francisi had nothing but Mike Hancock’s say-so, which isn’t worth spit.
“So you know; I reamed her a new one. Apparently my aunt got wind of what she’d been up to, so I wasn’t the first. She admitted she’d come here thinking she could get you back after discovering you’d inherited the bar. Fuck, I know it doesn’t excuse anything, but she’s been living hand-to-mouth her whole life, guess she was hoping to be looked after.”
I grunt, keeping my thoughts to myself. Truth is, she’s always been one of those people who expect a good life to drop in her lap. My eyes drift to the table. Not like Robin, who put in the effort and managed to carve out a new and decent existence not only for her, but also for her daughter.
“Look,” Bunker says in a low voice, as he places the drinks on a tray. “She admitted she was out to make trouble for Robin. Maybe hoping that…fuck, I don’t even know what she was thinking. She says she never meant for Robin to get hurt, but I’m not sure I even believe that. Anyway, she won’t give you any more trouble.”
“Appreciate it.”
“We good?” he asks, handing me the tray.
“Course we are. You’re not her keeper.”
I take the drinks to the table and sit down beside Robin, pulling her chair closer. She tosses a quick grin my way before turning back to Eddie, who is telling a funny story. I don’t pay attention; I’m too focused on the feeling of utter contentment as Robin leans against me, her hand on my knee as she tilts her head to my shoulder.
Enzo draws my attention when he slaps both hands on the table.
“How about a game of pool?”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Robin
“I think Paige is coming home.”
Gray props himself up on his elbow and looks down on me, his free hand brushing a strand of hair from my flushed face.
“I’m not sure how I feel about you bringing up your daughter when I’m still trying to catch my breath here.”
I snicker at his dismayed expression.
“Only because it would seriously curb these amazing sexual adventures you take me on.”
He cracks a shit-eating grin and wiggles his eyebrows.
“Amazing, huh?”
“Creative, that’s for sure.”
Who’d have thought at forty-six, I still had so much to learn about one of the most basic of human urges. Gray has certainly awoken a sexual beast in me, because I can’t recall there ever being a time where I was constantly horny.
Gray has been an enthusiastic teacher and I’ve been a very willing student.
“It does lead one to wonder where you would’ve acquired all knowledge,” I tease.
“I read a lot of books,” he says on a shrug, making me laugh.
“I can’t recall any Clive Cussler or John Grisham containing erotica,” I point out, pulling myself up so I have my back against the headboard.
I’m not even worried about how my breasts instantly give in to gravity. In fact, I don’t really worry about the way I look at all. I don’t need to; Gray seems to love every part of me.
“That wasn’t all I read,” he admits with a wink, as he makes himself comfortable against the headboard as well. “Besides, with little else to do but fantasize, I’ve built up quite a bucket list of things to try.”
“Mmm. I’m all for trying new things, which is why…” I circle back around to my earlier comment, “…we should talk about what we’re gonna do when Paige comes back. I was thinking…” I glance over at him and see I have his full attention. “And you can shut me down if you don’t like it,” I quickly add. “But what if Paige took your apartment? She’d be close but still independent. Then you could move here? I mean, I know we haven’t really talked about it, but we’re either here or at your place most nights anyway, so—”
“Hey,” he interrupts my ramble, turning toward me and cupping my jaw with his hand. “Makes sense to me.”
“Yeah?”
I grin and scoot closer.
“Hell yeah.”
He pulls me on top of his body so I’m straddling his hips. His face is at level with my breasts, something he immediately makes good use of. His nipping and tugging soon has me rock my hips on the hardening ridge of his cock as my body sparks back to life.
“Gray?”
“Mmmm,” he mumbles around my nipple.
“So…what else is on that bucket list of yours?”
I walk out of the office to get a coffee refill. God knows I need it.
This past week I’ve been trying to catch up on the diner’s bookkeeping. Taxes are due on the fifteenth of next month and I’ve barely looked at the books since before Christmas.
It’s like this every year, I have the best of intentions and then stuff happens distracting me.
“How is it going?” Kim asks when I pass her.
“I may require wine instead of coffee to fuel me soon,” I grumble.
“Take a break.” She indicates a stool. “It’s about lunchtime anyway, Jason can whip you up something.”
I start telling her I can’t, I need to get this done before Paige comes home this weekend, but I stop myself. I’ll probably be more productive if I can clear my head and fill my stomach.
“I’d kill for a home burger,” I announce, sliding onto a seat.
“Jason!” she hollers over her shoulder. “Robin needs feeding. Home burger.”
“Coming up!”
“You could’ve just stuck your head in the pass-through,” I suggest.
She grins. “Now what would be the fun in that?”
Donna throws me a wink in passing on her way to the kitchen with a tub of dirty dishes. There are only two straggling tables but most of the breakfast crowd is done. Lunch won’t be quite as busy, at least during the workweek.
“You know Amanda Kerns?” Donna asks me when she reappears.
“Isn’t she the redhead? Pregnant?” Kim says.
“That’s the one. She’s a nurse at the Great Lakes Medical Center in Gladwin.”
I nod. “Yeah, I think I know who you’re talking about.”
“Well, she’s about to go on maternity leave, and I hear they’re having a hard time finding someone qualified. I was thinking maybe that’s something for your girl? May be only until Amanda comes back—if she does—but it could be a start?”
It might actually be perfect. Paige isn’t clear on what she wants, so something temporary while she figures it out wouldn’t be a bad idea.
“Thanks, that might work for her. She’s getting in this weekend, so I’ll pass it on. Anyone in particular she should get in touch with?”
“Don’t know, but I’ll give Amanda a call tonight and find out.”
That bit of potentially good news—and the fat juicy burger and fries I inhale ten minutes later—fuel me sufficiently to breeze through my afternoon. By the time I’m ready to head home, I have a number for Dr. Ashram at the Gladwin clinic, courtesy of Donna, and call Paige on my hands-free while I’m driving.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Hi, sweetheart. Do you have a pen ready?”
“Yeah, I’m at my desk, why?”
“You’re still at work?”
“Just tying up a few loose ends before I head home. Why do I need pen and paper?”
“I may have a lead for you.” I tell her about the clinic in Gladwin and give her the contact information. “I don’t know if they’d still be open, but you could
give them a call now, see if you can set something up for next week when you’re here.”
“Thanks, Mom,” she says with a bit of an edge. “Not sure if I would’ve thought of that myself.”
Definitely sarcasm there.
“Just looking out for you, Paige.”
I can hear the sigh through the phone.
“I know, but I’ve lived on my own for a few years now and I’ve managed to survive, so give me some credit here.”
That shuts me up for a minute. She’s right, she’s not a child anymore and as happy as I am for her to be coming home, I have to recognize her need for independence. Otherwise I’m afraid she won’t hesitate moving away again soon. I know my daughter.
Every so often the mother hen in me rears its head.
“So noted. I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay, Mom. I’m a little stressed, that’s all.”
“Understandable, sweetheart. Do you have a lot left to do?”
“The trailer is packed, I just need to throw my bedding, the air mattress, and a couple of odds and ends in the car before I hit the road. I plan to leave before traffic gets nuts tomorrow morning, so I’ll make an early night of it tonight.”
I turn into my driveway.
“All right, honey. I’ll let you go then. Let me know where you end up tomorrow night. Not because don’t I trust you,” I quickly add. “But because I’m a mom and we worry.”
Her soft chuckle is music to my ears.
“So noted, Mom.”
Gray
“Go on. Take it for a spin.”
Jimmy, Kyle, and I are standing side by side, looking at our handiwork.
It took a little over a month, but between the three of us we have the Knucklehead rebuilt. Kyle did an amazing job spraying the frame in a deep blue so dark; it looks almost black from a distance.
“It’ll have to wait. I’ve gotta get over to the bar and load the last of my shit in the truck.”
“Damn, I almost forgot,” Jimmy says. “Paige is gonna be here this weekend, right?”
“She’s supposed to start driving tomorrow.”
