Mel placed a napkin over her plate. The disappointment crossing her face was all too familiar. At least it was directed at Bobby and not him. He knew he wasn’t off the hook, though. Then again, Mel was so focused on Bobby becoming homeless, she might forget all about the fight they’d had with Quinell and his crew.
Bobby picked up his Coke and took a long drink. “I’m stuffed,” he said, but tossed another French fry into his mouth.
“Now that you’ve eaten, you have questions to answer,” Mel said. “Like why didn’t you go to Cash for help?”
He let out a sigh. “Because by the time I really needed to, it was too late.”
“Sounds like a load of crap,” Cash said, picking up his water. “What else you got?”
“Cash,” Mel gasped. “That was completely unnecessary.”
Harrison leaned back in the booth. “I dunno. There were times when all me and my brother had between the two of us was five bucks and a roach-infested, one-room apartment. Guess what we did? Got a second J.O.B.”
“Exactly right,” Cash said, deciding he liked Harrison the more he was around the man. He’d noticed the way Harrison looked out for Mel, had liked that the man had the balls to pick up the crumpled picture Quinell had thrown—Cash rubbed his sore jaw—even if he could’ve done without a fight this evening. He also liked that it was clear Harrison and Mel were only friends. Based on how she’d left things earlier, he’d needed the reassurance. If quitting the repo business was what it would take to keep her happy, then he’d do it. Not once during their two-year separation had she brought up divorce. Since he didn’t want that, he wasn’t going to test her.
What bothered him was the shock on Harrison’s face when the man realized Mel was married. Was he a dirty secret or something stupid like that? If so, then maybe he’d reconsider his plans for retirement. He loved Mel, but if she was ashamed to be with him, then the only solution was divorce. Prescott Chandler ‘Cash’ Maddox had gone from living in poverty, to making a name for himself in the Army, to starting his own lucrative business, and deserved better—even if his mom had made up his frickin’ name.
Bobby rested his elbow on the table. “You guys just don’t get it.” He dragged another fry through ketchup. “With the economy, it’s hard to find a job.”
“You had a job at Cash’s garage,” Mel reminded him.
“The hours weren’t flexible,” Bobby countered.
Cash tried to rein in his irritation, but decided what the kid needed was more than tough love. He needed an ass-kicking. “Screw that. Working eight to five is what most people do. What the hell did you expect? Maybe you thought I’d say, ‘Hey, Bobby, why don’t you work the hours you feel like working today.’” He shook his head. “You need to grow up and contribute to society.”
Bobby snorted. “Contribute to society,” he echoed. “I’m not for feeding into the system and giving my tax dollars over to the government.”
Mel slammed her hand against the table, rattling glasses and plates. “You’ve never paid taxes, so don’t you dare go there. Cash and Harrison are right. You’re giving us a load of crap. Are you on drugs?”
“God, no.”
“Then what is it? Why didn’t you go to Cash or try to find another job? Jesus, Bobby, after you moved out of our house, I was never fully aware of where you were living. Don’t you want to have something of your own? Don’t you want to wake up in the morning knowing you’re good, that you have a few dollars and a roof over your head?”
Bobby narrowed his eyes. “Save the lecture, Mom.” He tossed his napkin on the table, then stood. “Thanks for dinner, but I’m out of here.”
Cash started to rise, but Harrison blocked Bobby before he could slide from the booth. “I think you owe your cousin an apology.”
“For what? Telling me how to live my life?”
“Absolutely,” Cash answered. “Because if she didn’t care, you’d still be sitting in a dump and your stomach would be empty.”
“Sit,” Harrison said.
Bobby glanced at all of them, then took a seat.
“How could you?” Mel asked, her voice shaking. “Mom? When your mom—my aunt—died, I took care of you. If you don’t remember, let me give you a refresher…I was the one who helped you learn to read and write. I made sure you were enrolled in school and had all your supplies. Clean clothes and sheets? That was me. Daddy supplied the money, but I supplied the love. What do I get in return?” She flipped a lock over her shoulder. “Since we know the answer, there’s no point in continuing with this conversation. Go ahead and go. Go back to the shelter. Sit outside and hope you can get in there tomorrow night, or that this Madeline woman shows up and makes your money worries disappear.” She stood. “I’m done losing sleep over someone who doesn’t care enough about me to do anything to make themself better.”
Ouch and holy shit. Never, ever had Mel gone off on Bobby like this. While impressed, her words hit him hard. He knew his woman, and she’d hit a wall. The men in her life weren’t manning up like she’d expected, wanted or needed. Bobby wasn’t the only issue she was facing, he was, too. She’d had expectations for him, and he’d failed.
Cash snagged her hand. Instead of pulling away, she twined her fingers through his and looked to him. The disappointment in her eyes made him ache inside. It also made him want to smack Bobby upside the head for being an idiot. “Sit down and let Bobby apologize,” he said, tugging her hand.
She glared at Bobby. “Is that what you plan on doing?”
He nodded. “I’m sorry. You know I appreciate everything you do for me, and how you took care of me when I was a kid.”
Mel eased back into the booth, but fortunately didn’t let go of his hand. “How I took care of you?” She let out a sarcastic chuckle. “Honey, I wasn’t your babysitter, I was the closest thing you had to a mother. I might’ve done all right with getting you through school and making sure you were healthy, but when it came to setting goals, I did a terrible job. I gave you what you needed without ever making you work for it. Now you think you’re entitled to do as you please.”
Bobby widened his eyes. “Entitled? I had to grow up in a swamp.” He turned to Harrison. “Ever eat frog or squirrel? Or how about snake or gator? I had to wear clothes from the thrift store or hand-me-downs. Yeah, I had it really great living with you and Uncle Daddy.”
Anger boiled inside Cash’s chest. He tried to tell himself unicorns were magical, but he couldn’t see the magic past the rage. Still holding Mel’s hand, he leaned forward. “Boy, in another second, I’m going to throw you in the back of my truck and dump your body in Frenchtown. Be glad you had food, clothes and a roof over your head. After spending time on the streets, you should be on your knees thanking Mel for what she’s done for you, instead of putting her down. You grew up poor. Get over it. So did I. Only I didn’t always have food, or a steady home.”
“We grew up poor, too,” Harrison said. “I’m not sure how I feel about squirrel meat, but I could’ve done without the beatings from my mom’s many boyfriends. Did Mel or her dad ever hit you? Until you chose to live on the streets, did you ever go to bed hungry, then wake up in the morning feeling like your stomach was eating itself?”
“I know he didn’t,” Cash said, adding Harrison to his list of friends. “Because I know Mel. If there was nothing in the pantry and you were hungry, I bet she was in the swamp, gigging until she brought home supper.”
“Gigging?” Harrison asked.
Bobby’s cheeks and ears grew red as he stared at Mel with shame. “You take a pole with sharp prongs on the end, and use it to spear fish or small critters like frogs or snake. Mel used to make crispy frog legs, squirrel stew, barbeque snake…you’ve never tasted anything until you’ve had her southern fried catfish.” He reached across the table toward Mel. “I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it.”
She tightened her hold on Cash, and took Bobby’s hand. “I know, honey.” Her eyes misty, she gave her cousin a reassuring
smile. “You used to be quite the gigger, too. I loved cookin’ for you and Daddy.” Her smile faded. “I meant what I said. I did you wrong by not making you pull your weight as much as you should’ve. Now you have no drive. You don’t care about having a place of your own, a job, a car, a girl. Anymore, I don’t know what you care about.”
“You. Uncle Daddy.” Bobby let go of her hand. With a sigh, he leaned into the booth. “Hanging with my dudes. Gaming.”
“If you have so many dudes, then what were you doing at the shelter?” Harrison asked.
“They ditched me. Some for a girl, some for school or work. All except for Noah. I suppose he’s as pathetic as me.”
“You’re not pathetic,” Mel said.
“Yes he is,” Cash replied, not holding anything back. He’d been telling Mel for years that the kid needed tough love. “He had a job, he had a place to stay until he could afford his own. Remember the car I offered him?”
Mel stared at Bobby. “You never fixed it?”
“Nope,” Cash answered for him. “He could have used my materials and my garage, and had himself a nice ride. But that was too much work, right, Bobby?”
The kid crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at the table. “I don’t know what my problem is. I want money, an apartment, a car. Hell, I’d love to have a girl, but who’d want me? The only thing I’ve got going for me is that I don’t do drugs.”
“You have more than that,” Mel said. “You have me. But I can’t hold your hand anymore. You need to grow up and be responsible. Go back to working for Cash, find a roommate and get an apartment. Or come back to Everglades City and work for Ryan until you find something else.”
“No offense, but I don’t want to move back to the Glades. I like it here.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “When Noah gets back, he’ll have some money. If Cash lets me work for him again, in a week or two, we could have enough to put down on a cheap apartment.”
Harrison wrinkled his forehead. “What’s this Noah guy doing that he’s coming back to the shelter with money?”
Bobby shrugged. “I’m not exactly sure.”
“Where did he go?”
“Don’t know that either.”
“Are we back to this Madeline woman?” Mel asked.
“Yeah.” Bobby nodded. “What’s today?”
“Friday?”
“Friday?” He frowned. “I think she picked him up on Monday. She took Noah and another dude, Troy. Me and a couple other guys were hoping she’d take us with them, but she said she only needed two men for now.”
“For what?” Cash asked. Having grown up near Frenchtown, he knew there were people who preyed on the homeless or addicts living on the streets, and hoped this woman wasn’t one of them.
“She said something about helping restore her house. She offered seventy-five dollars a day, plus a room and meals.”
“Did she say she planned to come back and hire more men?” Mel asked.
Bobby nodded. “Maybe women, too. She asked about the women at the shelter, but most were already inside for the night. The ones hanging on the street were either older or had kids with them.”
“So, your plan was to stay homeless until this woman maybe came back and picked you to work for her.” She gripped Cash’s hand tighter. If she kept it up, he didn’t think he’d have any circulation left by the end of the conversation. “You do realize how ridiculous this is, right? You could have a solid job, with a weekly paycheck. Instead you choose to live on the streets and wait for a job to maybe fall into your lap.”
“I was desperate. When me and Noah had no place to go, we made our way to Frenchtown. We heard about a pawn broker who’d pay top dollar for any gaming system that’s up to two years old. I got mine from one of the dudes who ditched me for a job, Noah grabbed his from his mom’s, and we went to see the broker.” He shook his head. “We were robbed three blocks from the pawn shop. They beat us up, took our systems, our wallets and our phones. We spent the night in an alley.”
“And the visit to Quinell?” Cash asked.
“I still had Mel’s checks in my pocket. I was hoping he’d hook me up. He didn’t.” Bobby took a drink of his Coke. “We ended up at Hope House that night. I told Noah we should go to his mom’s, but I guess after he stopped there to get his gaming system, his mom told him not to come back.” He looked to Cash. “I thought about coming to you, but I was too embarrassed. The last time I saw you, you called me a pathetic waste to society.”
Mel let go of his hand. “Did he?” She gave Cash a narrowed glance.
“Damn right,” Cash said. “It pissed me off that he’d rather mooch off you and anyone else he could, than be a man and get a job.”
“Don’t be mad at Cash,” Bobby said. “He’s right. When I was sitting around, hoping I’d get a bed for the night at the shelter, I thought long and hard about what Cash said. The problem was, I had nothing. Not an ID, not a phone or a dime. Who’d hire me? Hell, the only way I could’ve made it back to the Glades would’ve been by foot. I didn’t know what to do next. Then Madeline came along. She gave me hope, but you’re right. It was stupid for me to count on someone like her when I have you.”
“You’ll always have me,” Mel said. “But you need to start counting on yourself.”
Cash picked up the check their server had left behind earlier. “Before Bobby does anything, he needs a shower and new clothes. I suggest burning the ones he’s wearing.”
After everyone, including Bobby, agreed, Cash paid the bill, while the others left the diner. When he finished and met them outside, Mel told him that she and Bobby were going to walk to the drug store on the corner, and that she’d like for him to wait for her. He’d do anything for her. As he watched them walk away, he stood next to Harrison wondering why he’d waited two years to give her the peace of mind she’d needed. Why had he been so damned stubborn about quitting the repo business? Yes, he was an adrenaline junkie. But he could have received the same kind of rush that happened during a repo job doing something else. He could skydive, strap a bungee cord to his body and jump off a bridge, or meet Mel’s crazy daddy in the swamps of the Everglades.
Harrison kicked a pebble. “So…”
Cash shifted his gaze to the man and remembered Harrison’s reaction when he’d realized Mel was married. Irritation tightened his shoulders. “So…what?” he asked.
Harrison let out a sigh as he looked across the street. “Want a beer?”
Cash eyed the bar, and nodded. “Text Mel or she’ll be pissed.”
“She’s your wife, you do it,” Harrison said, crossing the street.
“You seriously didn’t know?”
Harrison reached the bar door, then opened it. “Nope.”
After they took a seat at the bar and sent Mel a quick text, he ordered them a couple of draft beers still part of the happy hour special. “Does anyone in Everglades City know?”
“No clue. I met Mel last November when I moved there.” Harrison reached for his beer and turned to him. “Dude, I gotta know, were you really pissed that I wasn’t interested in dating Mel?”
“You make us sound like swingers.”
Harrison laughed. “I don’t know about that.”
“Well, why aren’t you interested in my wife?” Cash asked, then quickly added, “Don’t worry about me kicking your ass if you answer honestly.”
After taking a drink, Harrison said, “Your wife is an attractive woman.”
“She’s fucking gorgeous.”
Harrison nodded. “You know she runs the ice cream shop at the airboat company, right?”
“Yeah.” Why, he couldn’t understand. When it came to fixing cars, the woman’s hands were frickin’ magical. She used to love making old, ugly cars pretty again. He’d bet the Camaro she drove to Tallahassee was something she’d restored. Jude had been right. If Cash added auto body work to his garage, and had Mel helping out, there’d be no need for the income from the repo business.
�
�It’s kinda fitting that she’s the Ice Cream Lady.”
Cash grinned. “She can be cold. No doubt. If you piss her off, watch out.” He lifted his beer. “This, I know all too well.” His therapist had called their relationship toxic. If he hadn’t liked the guy, or hadn’t liked working on the man’s car, he might’ve told him to fuck off. They weren’t toxic. A little dysfunctional at times, but when they were good, they were really good. When things were bad…he was an asshole. He’d shut down, and find trouble to blow off steam. Thanks to therapy, he’d realized that communication was important to women. The problem was, every time he tried to communicate with Mel, they either fought or wound up having sex. Or fought, then had make up sex.
“She does tend to enjoy showing off her knives. Is that why you two are separated?” Harrison asked.
His mind still on sex, he frowned. “No. Mel never tried to stick me. There were a few times I wouldn’t have blamed her for trying.”
Harrison laughed again and shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.”
Cash picked up his glass, and wondered how much he should say to Harrison. Jude knew what was going on—or not going on—between him and Mel. The other guys from the garage were aware, minus the details Jude knew. But Harrison was Mel’s friend. Until today, the man hadn’t even known he’d existed. That hurt. Why would she keep him a secret? Yeah, he could be an ass, but he’d given her everything. He’d made sure she would be taken care of, should anything happen to him. If he bit the bullet today, she’d be set for life. He’d done that because he loved her, but it hadn’t been enough. While he understood why she’d walked away, sometimes he wondered if she’d find some other reason to want to leave him. People left. They died. Or they just didn’t care if you existed. A quick image of his mom filled his head, but he shoved it away. She wasn’t worth his time.
Perfectly Toxic Page 10
