Page 37 of Play Hard
I rubbed a finger over my chin, felt the neatly clipped—since I’d gone to the barber shop earlier this afternoon—hair and shifted my thoughts to another thing I’d had no intention of doing. “I was never going to tell her.”
“I know. But now?”
Dropping my hands flat on the desk blotter that Camy had put there because she said we were messing up the smooth surface with our glasses from the bar, keys when we dropped them down, phones that we carelessly pushed across the surface, and some other shit none of us were paying attention to, and frowned. “I never expected to see her again.”
“I know,” Rock repeated. “But she’s here now. And you’ve slept with her.”
“I didn’t tell you that,” I shot back.
“You didn’t have to. I might not have seen her straddling you in the main room of the place, but I knew when I saw her car still in the parking lot when I left, that she’d gone home with you.” Rock chuckled. “Camy cursed you so loud for not telling her you were kidnapping her new friend, you should’ve heard it at your place.”
“I heard it Sunday afternoon when she cornered me and dumped all her rage in my lap.” Then, she’d handed me a plastic bowl filled with the pot roast, baby red potatoes and carrots, mashed potatoes and gravy that she’d cooked.
Camy had learned to cook from her mother, and she did Ms. Roxanne’s recipes justice whenever she did so. But we all knewthat grief was still alive and well within her, so most nights her meals were either consumed here while sitting at the bar giving whoever was on duty a hard time, or some form of carry-out she took back to the childhood home she still lived in. When she did cook, especially Sunday dinners, it meant she was missing her mother heavy. Which was the second reason I hadn’t argued with anything she said. The first was that she’d been right, I should’ve told one of them that were still in the bar that Serra was going home with me.
“Fuck, Rock! None of this was supposed to happen.” I propped my elbows on the desk and let my head fall into my hands. “Serra was not supposed to be in Providence, and I wasn’t supposed to fall for her ass again. Now, our picture is all over the damn world drudging up the past I try every day to leave behind.”
“Tell her about L.A.,” Rock said solemnly. “We’ll keep looking for who took the picture. I’ll tell Lance to have his guy see if any of Serra’s family have taken a recent flight down here.”
“That’s it?” I looked up to see he’d pushed off from the door and was now about to open it. “That’s all the advice you’ve got for me?”
Rock glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah. Your ass is hard-headed so I know you’re gonna sit in here another hour or so trying to come up with a different plan before you decide to just do what the hell I told you. So, I’m getting out of your way while you do that.”
My frown increased as I watched him leave, hating that he was right.
Ulysses Ruthers,or Crabtree as we’d known him since we were kids, walked toward me about two minutes after I stepped into the Lakeside Restaurant. His purposeful stride was hampered by a slight favoring to his left leg. But his gaze was set on me, his intention clearly to get something off his chest.
I guess I should’ve expected this since Serra is his only granddaughter and I knew she’d told him that she spent Saturday night at my place. The fact that she hadn’t blinked at announcing whatever we were doing to her grandfather should’ve made me feel good, but it only added to the anxiety I was feeling about tonight.
“Good evening. The dining room is closed for the night, but you’re welcome to have a seat at the bar.”
The woman’s words caught my attention, and I turned slightly to see her standing behind the hostess stand. She hadn’t been there when I came in, which could’ve been another reason why Crabtree was approaching.
“No, thanks. I’m just picking up,” I told her.
“Oh. Okay. Do you have your order number? To Go service is located at the side of the building, but I’ll run over and grab it for you.” She was pretty enough, eager enough and when she stepped from around the stand, I could see she was also curvy enough. But she wasn’t Serra and that’s who I was here for tonight.
“I’ll take care of him,” Crabtree said coming up on my left. “C’mon with me, son.”
That was it by way of greeting and I didn’t think I should’ve expected more. No doubt, Crabtree knew exactly who I was and my reputation. If I were a father or grandfather, I wouldn’t want me sniffing around any daughter or grandchild of mine either. So I followed him silently.
We walked the length of the now empty dining room. This part of the restaurant closed at ten while the bar and the To Goareas stayed open until midnight. Crabtree continued on until we arrived at the double set of glass doors that opened out onto the patio where there was additional seating. I stepped outside into the still balmy night air behind him.
The older man spun around so quick I almost knocked him over. His long finger pressed into the center of my chest as his rheumy eyes stared up at mine. He was about four or five inches shorter than me, and I had him by probably thirty to forty pounds, but there was nothing frail about Ulysses Ruthers.
“I know who you are.” That’s how he started what I was sure would be a memorable conversation.
Whether it was going to be a good memory or not, the jury was still out on that one. “Yes, sir. I remember who you are as well.”
My use of good manners didn’t have him blinking an eye or stepping back from my personal space. There wasn’t a time I ever allowed another man to roll up on me like this, not when I was a kid and certainly not as an adult. But I told myself it was best that I stand here and take whatever was necessary if for no other reason than I respected Serra too much to punch her grandfather in the face.
“And I know all that shit they used to say about you boys when you were comin’ up. I used to tell Smitty he was a racist bastard for talking about arresting children and sending them away for the rest of their lives the way he did. Then his ornery ass dies and his oldest boy steps right up to take his place. But things have changed now,” Crabtree said.
I wasn’t sure what to say next and apparently that was okay because the man wasn’t finished.
“Now, you’re keeping my grandbaby out all night.”
It was a statement not a question, so I remained silent.
