Page 20 of The Barn: Frost and Q
“I’m good with wherever he wants to be.”
“Thanks.” They sat in the bar area, which was pretty empty as it was lunchtime, and most everyone would be in the dining room.
“Good afternoon, Masters.” The bartender came to put napkins on the tables. “What can I get for you?”
“Hey, Jamie. I want an amber ale, and Tug here is an IPA type. And can you rustle us up some food?”
He knew their preferences were on the computer, so the kitchen would come up with something they liked.
“Of course, Sirs. Have a seat, and I’ll have your beers out in two shakes.”
“Thank you.” He found a booth that was out of the way and settled with Tug. “It’s good to see you.”
“It’s good to be seen.” Tug stretched. “So why aren’t you in the air, man? I know you crave it.”
“Yeah, well, this thing with Q is more important. He has divorce papers, Tug. Now, he hasn’t signed them, so for all I know he got them online. But still.”
Tug winced. “I assume you aren’t interested in signing them?”
“You’d be assuming right. He’s mine, and I’m not letting him go without a fight. He says that I’m too guilty, that I’m not going to get over the kidnapping.”
Tug arched an eyebrow. “Are you?”
“Wouldn’t you be?” He sighed and tried his damnedest not to shake his head. “I will never forget finding the note. The FBI. The calls. The sound of the gunshot.”
And it had all been because some asshole had lost his inheritance when his father played a bad hand of cards.
“Right. I get that. You ain’t ever going to forget that. But what I’m asking is, are you going to let it ruin shit for you? Getting over it doesn’t mean forgetting. It means moving on from all the negative emotions like guilt and shame and doing the thing.”
“I know, I know. I’m not stupid. I just—” He shook his head. “Every time I see that wheelchair, I think. What if? What if I’d never taken that bet? What if we’d gone a different way home? What if we hadn’t gone into town? What if I’d paid better attention?”
So many things he could have done to make a different outcome in that, yet none of them had happened, and he just didn’t know what to do about it and how to work that out in his brain.
Tug rolled his shoulders. “What if the bullet had hit and blown the other side of the skull out? What if the guy had violated him? What if you’d died when you wrecked your car when they took Quentin and nobody ever was around to get the ransom? What if you hadn’t had the money to get him the best medical care that you could? The what-ifs totally work both ways, man. Trust me. I know this. So should you.”
Sometimes he hated Tug a little bit. Not often, but sometimes. “I know. That’s why I’m doing this; because it’s time. I’ve stewed long enough.”
Tug nodded. “Yeah, you so have. Simple fact is, you’re not doing anyone any favors. Q is smarter than the average bear.”
“I know Q is smart,” he snarled.
“Wait, are you sure? Didn’t he throw himself out of airplanes and helicopters to fight fires? Don’t seem real smart…” Tug was baiting him.
“Fuck off, you know he was an IT guy too. He got his Masters in weird-assed computer shit.”
“Dude, a Masters in weird-ass computer shit.Andhe threw himself out of helicopters into fires, and he got himself shot. Totally smart.”
“I will kick your ass.”
Tug grinned at him. “Oh, buddy, you’ll try. There’s not a single, solitary man in this entire place who could even come close, and we all know it. That’s one of the charming things about you.”
“That’s true. You’re short like a Weeble. You wobble but you don’t fall down. You are awful little though.”
“Small but mighty.” Tug winked at him. “Seriously. I’m glad I could bring things to help. It’s time for you to fix this shit between the two of you. Get back on the bull.”
“Yeah, I think so too.”
They stopped talking as Jamie brought over their beers. “I ordered a Philly cheese steak sandwich with onion rings for you, Mr. Tug, and then Mr. Frost, for you. I have a triple patty melt with some fries.”
