Page 62 of Can't Get Over You
Jude poured himself some coffee. “I haven’t figured out how to make my work schedule fit with babysitting.” But he’d better. He had him for another five weeks.
After the bar closed at two, he had to count the cash drawer and lock it in the safe, run a quick check of the booze, clean up…and a hundred other things. He didn’t get home till four.
His father eyed him carefully. “I didn’t ask you to work.”
“Well, I’m not going to just live off you.”
His dad’s eyes darkened, his features pulling tight. “This is your home. You do whatever you need, and I’m here to support you. You get that?”
He looked away. “Sure.” He hadn’t lived here in twelve years. He didn’t know what home felt like anymore.
His dad came right up to him. “You know I didn’t send you away because you were a bad kid, right?”
“Yeah.” What was his point?
“Judge Adams left us no choice. Either we got you out of town, or you boys would’ve wound up in juvie.”
“Dad, I was there. I heard.”
“Yeah? Then how come the other guys came back, but you never did?”
“Because I needed to cut ties.”To have an identity outside them. “I didn’t want to get drawn back into their shit.”
“And how’d that work out for you?” Humor glinted in his dad’s eyes.
“Not so good.” He lifted his mug. “Here I am.” Drawn right back into Marco’s drama. But he wanted to make sure his dad understood. “I hope you know I never blamed you for what happened when I was a kid. You had four boys”—one of them ababy—“and no income. You did the best you could.”
“Well, that’s a nice way to say it, but nothing changes the fact that you were the oldest and got the worst of the situation. You’ve never been much of a talker, so I didn’t know what was going on. I only knew you were taking care of your brothers. Now I know there was no one looking out for you.”
“But that’s the point. There was.”Marco.
“Yeah, I get it.” He stepped back to wipe the counter. “In any event, while you’re here, I don’t expect you to work. As far as I’m concerned, you’ve got one job, and that’s to take care of the boy.”
“Thanks, Dad. I appreciate it.” He took a slug of Ava’s dark roast. His dad might not drink coffee, but he kept it in the house for her and his sons.
“Now, if you decide to go through with the adoption, I assume you’ll stay in town so we can help.”
“I haven’t given it a lot of thought, but yeah. That makes sense.”
His dad gave a curt nod. “If that’s the case, the bar’s yours.”
Jude straightened so quickly that the coffee sloshed in his mug. “What do you mean, it’s mine? You’re not retiring, are you?”
“Got other shit I want to do. And if it’s something you’d like, I think now’s a good time to start transitioning it over to you. If you want it.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Dad, come on. I don’t exactly get along with the people in this town.”
“First of all, I don’t give a shit what the ten thousand locals think about a kid who ran wild for a few years. You took my truck out for a joyride and knocked out someone’s mailbox. So what? I care about the three million tourists who come to Wild Billy’s each year to ride the mechanical bull. They’re the ones who pay my bills.”
A strange warmth flooded him, loosening the tightness in his chest that he lived with. “Fair point.”
Right then, the front door opened, and boots treaded on the wood floors. Wyatt came into the kitchen holding a bag and a big box. “This is for you.” He handed the package to his dad.
“What is it?” His dad grabbed a knife from the block and cut it open.
