Page 2 of Monster's Madhouse
“Good, then have them come here and I’ll entertain them, give them lunch, and make sure that they stay here until you are done with your funeral,” Monster offered.
“You think a bar is going to work out any better?” Drifter asked.
“Then being surrounded by dead people and mourners—yes,” Monster said.
“Fine,” he mumbled, removing his hand from the cell. “Blitz, change of plans. I’ll text you the address and you’ll meet with my friend, Monster,” he said.
“You all do have some pretty strange names down there,” she teased. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Blitz said, ending the call.
“What now?” Monster asked.
“Now, I try to find stuff to outfit a bedroom for a teenage girl,” Drifter said. “Any ideas?”
Monster held up his hands, “Don’t look at me,” he insisted. “I don’t have kids.” He immediately put his hands into his pockets and looked at the floor. Every time he denied his daughter’s existence felt like a betrayal, but telling people about her andHeather usually led to a very long story and pity that he didn’t want.
“Damnit,” Drifter breathed, “I forgot that it’s October. I’m sorry, man. Here I am laying my problems on you, and you have enough on your mind right now.”
“Actually, it’s a good distraction, helping you and Josie. How about if I close up early and go with you to pick out some things for her? I have to warn you, though; I’m not much of a decorator.”
“Me either, but between the two of us, we can probably figure it out,” Drifter insisted. Monster wasn’t sure if that was the case or not, but he was willing to do anything for the friend who had helped him out of his darkest times. How hard could outfitting a teen girl’s room be after all?
Drifter
Drifter never felt like he was part of anything. Growing up, he was the black sheep of his little family, always getting into trouble and never quite fitting in. That was why he loved his club so much. They seemed to accept him no matter how many bad decisions he had made or how many times he fucked up. His brothers accepted him, no questions asked, and for the first time in his life, he felt as though he had a place in the world.
When Drifter was eighteen, he left home, promising never to return to that shitty town or his mother’s fucking awful trailer. He hated leaving Josie alone with a mother who obviously never wanted to be a mom, but he had no choice. He had asked his mom if he could take Josie with him, but she told him she’d never allow him to take Josie from her. His mother told him that he had always been a disappointment, and at the time, he believed her. Drifter left town and roamed from place to place, which was how he got his nickname. It worked for him, and after a while, he gave up correcting people when they called him Drifter.
He had lost count of how many towns he had stayed in over the year and a half, that he was on the road. He had thought about Josie a lot, and when he called home to check on her, his mother would give him the bare minimum information about his little sister. His life was out of control, and that worked for him at the time. But when he was twenty-three, after months on the road, Drifter decided to try to find the best place to settle down. It seemed like an impossible feat, but when he stumbled into town and ended up at Monster’s bar, he had to admit, it felt like home. The guys in the Toxic Monsters became his brothers, and when he stumbled down the street from the bar and found the old funeral home was for sale, he did the craziest thing he had ever done in his life—he bought it.
Drifter had zero knowledge of how to run a funeral home. Plus, he had a healthy fear of death, and he was pretty sure that having to deal with dead bodies, day in and day out, wasn’t ideal. That’s why he hired a mortician to handle the stuff that he didn’t want to. Drifter became the funeral director/owner, and that worked for him. He got his degree in Mortuary Science and got all the licenses needed to run his funeral home. He was lucky that a local college had a program with night and online classes, so it only took him three years to complete everything.
Drifter decided to call his new business Simmons Funeral Home, and from the day that he opened his doors, he had steady business. He guessed that the old saying that the only sure things in life were death and taxes still held true. The locals began to recognize him around town, and they even stopped by the funeral home just to say hi or hang out. At first, he thought that it was strange, but he got used to the guys from Toxic Monsters dropping by all the time. After a while, he found them dropping into his place to be comforting. That was how he had met Monster—well, partially.
His club’s Prez had stopped in to talk to Drifter after his wife and unborn child had died. They really didn’t know each other very well back then. He had just purchased the funeral home months before and had no idea what he was doing. Hiring people to help him run his new business was the smartest move he ever made, but there was something about Monster that had him wanting to help him. He obtained all the permits needed to bury his little family, and all he could feel for Monster was sadness. The guy had it all—a wife and a kid on the way, and in the blink of an eye, he lost everything.
They both agreed that a closed casket would be for the best. Heather wasn’t in the best shape after the car accident, and Monster didn’t want to put her on display for everyone to gawk at. Drifter got it, but he also knew that without seeing the body in the casket, finding closure was hard to do.
Monster kept stopping by the funeral home as though he was there to see his wife. He was searching for the last place he had seen her, and Drifter worried about him daily. He’d show up at the Toxic Monsters looking for Monster, making sure that he’d gotten through his day. Most nights, he had found his friend back in his office at the bar, drinking himself into a stupor. He wasn’t sure how he could help his friend, but he had a good idea how to start. Drifter was there for Monster—through thick and thin. And when he agreed to get help with his drinking, Drifter knew that he was finally getting through to his friend.
In the years since Heather’s death, Monster didn’t seem to date. In fact, Drifter wasn’t sure that he’d ever seen him with any woman. Getting over his wife didn’t seem to be an easy task for Monster and Drifter, who worried that it might never happen. And now, with his sister coming to live with him, he’d have to worry about her too.
Josie had always been such a good kid growing up. He hated leaving her with their no-good mother, but he wasn’t really givena choice. Drifter wondered why his mom had just up and left Josie now, after insisting that he’d never take Josie from her. Why would she just leave her daughter now? Drifter had tried calling her more times than he could count and left her messages ranging from sweet and flowery to scathing and hateful. He had a feeling that his mother wouldn’t answer any of his messages, and that left him with no other choice than to take care of his little sister.
His house was big enough to take her in. Hell, he had a five-bedroom house that he had partially remodeled after he purchased it. He thought that someday, he’d have a wife and a bunch of kids to fill those rooms, but Drifter wasn’t lucky in love. In fact, he was having quite a dry spell, not that he’d tell anyone that. No, he’d keep his lack of love life to himself, which worked for him, because he had exactly twenty minutes to get down to the bar to pick up his sister and meet the woman who planned on sticking around town to make his life miserable.
Drifter said goodbye to the last of the mourners and met with the family members to arrange to have their loved one cremated. He tried not to rush them—they had just lost their mother, but he needed to get down to Toxic Monsters or he was probably going to have to listen to an earful from Ms. Blitz. But then again, she sounded like a crabby old woman who’d probably grump at him for no reason.
He collected payment from the head of the family and offered his condolences once again. Drifter showed them out and was thankful that they didn’t seem to want to stand around his parking lot to chat. They all went to their cars and within minutes were gone. He ran around the funeral home, quickly turning off lights and locking up.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” he said to Mrs. Holts, shutting the lid to her coffin. He liked to talk to his customers—even if they were dead and wouldn’t answer back. It was a way for himto show them some respect, and he’d gotten quite used to having full conversations with them.
Drifter grabbed his truck keys and his jacket. He looked around the funeral home one last time, and when he couldn’t come up with any other excuses not to go to the bar, he knew that it was time to leave. Yeah, he was a chicken, but he just wanted to have five minutes to himself to calm his mind. Ever since talking to Ms. Blitz, his head had been spinning. He was going to be his little sister’s guardian, and that scared the shit out of him. Unfortunately, it was only going to take him two minutes to pull around the corner to the back of the bar’s parking lot. Drifter took note of the navy sports coup that sat two spots down. He hadn’t seen that car before, and if he had to guess, it belonged to Ms. Blitz.
He walked into the back of the bar and found Monster, Ms. Blitz, and Josie sitting around the bar as though his little sister wasn’t only fourteen. “You’re letting a minor sit up to the bar?” Drifter asked. He wasn’t sure if he was asking Monster or Ms. Blitz.
“We’re closed, and I’m not serving alcohol. We are all having a soda,” Monster insisted. He looked Josie over and realized that she was watching him, seeming unsure. He hadn’t seen her for just over five years. She was so little back then, but now, he realized that she was a young woman, and he had no idea how to care for one of them.
“You must be Drifter,” Ms. Blitz said, standing to meet him by the back door. She held out her hand, and he reluctantly took it into his own. He realized that he had been completely wrong about who she was and what she’d look like. She was younger than he was, and God, she was gorgeous. Her long, dark hair and green eyes nearly knocked him on his ass, and Drifter suddenly wished that Monster was serving alcohol now. He could use a shot or even a beer right now.
