Page 38 of Play Hard
There was a second when I thought I should feel like a bitch for not speaking up, but that came and went in the short span of time Crabtree was silent before continuing.
“And before I get to that—” He didn’t finish that sentence, but gave my chest one last poke before he took a couple steps back. When he gripped the back of the chair closest to him, I made a move to go to him, but he waved me off. “Don’t need your help. Got shit to say to you, boy.”
I didn’t like him, or anybody for that matter, calling me boy. Folding my arms over my chest was the best I could do to keep from telling him so.
“You and your friends shot out of here like the law was chasing you the minute you got out of high school. And those buzzards around town just about rejoiced. The Pattersons walked around here like nothing happened. Like they hadn’t shipped their boy, Rock, off to that group home for who even knew what reason.” With his free hand, he scratched a spot just above his ear. “And you know, poor Roxanne, she was suffering for so long after Jiles died. They say the cancer took her, but I say her heart was just too broken to fight it anymore.”
A punch of sadness hit me at hearing about Del and Lance’s mother. I didn’t really get to know the twins until after their mother had passed and they were sent to the House, but I knew how it felt to lose a mother.
“Ethan’s drunk ass daddy wasn’t nevah shit anyways. I heard Jeret’s parents were good, though they were all about the military. His aunt and uncle were pure trash though.”
I had no clue where this walk down memory lane featuring all of our parents was going. My plan was to scoop Serra up after she finished helping out here tonight and take her somewhere we could talk. This guy apparently had a different plan.
“They all shoulda did better by you boys.”
That statement stopped the train of thought on how I could get out of this conversation. I could only stare at the man who was staring right back at me. Growing up, we never had any run-ins with Crabtree. At one point, we’d even seen him at the House talking to Ms. Janie, one of the therapists, about possibly giving us jobs bussing tables at the restaurant and helping with stock. I was optimistic about being able to make some money that would assist in me getting the hell out of town sooner, but something happened and that fell through. But here he was now, all these years later, saying in so many words that he always believed in us.
“Mr. Ruthers,” I began because I was raised to always use handles when speaking to my elders, unless they gave me permission to do otherwise. Of course, when the guys talked about him, we referred to him as Crabtree, but never to his face. “I’m just here to pick up Serra.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I know it. She said you would be picking her up tonight and I figured that meant you would take her back to your place again. That’s why I been watching the door for the last half hour. Wanted to get to you first.”
“I see.” I nodded and let my arms fall to my sides again. “If this is your warning?—”
“It is,” he said, cutting me off. “And you’re gonna stand there and listen to it.” He cleared his throat. “I trust you to watch out for her. I know what you did for your mama and kept tabs on you boys when you left here. You were like the surrogate grandsons I always wanted. Nothing like those uppity kiss-asses my daughter raised with that evil ass husband of hers.”
“No doubt,” I said. “She’s safe with me, sir. And, uh, thank you for agreeing to let us use your place for the field day.” I was so caught up listening to what he was saying, preparing myself for something negative to spew from his lips about me being with his granddaughter, that I’d completely forgotten Serracalling me Sunday night to say that her grandfather agreed to the use of his land.
Waving a hand, he shook his head. “Don’t thank me for doing what’s right and what I wanna do with my own property. People ‘round here got their heads so far up their asses they can’t see when something good is tryin’ to grow. But I see it and we need more of it around here. So, you come on out there tomorrow. Serra was too upset on Monday after one of them calls from her daddy that she cancelled the landscaper.”
She told me the landscaper had cancelled. “Her father called her?” I asked.
“Uh huh. They’ll try to get to her every chance they get. Try to make her do things their way. She’s smart, always has been. And she’s wiser now, braver, I think. But it’ll be good to know you’ve got her back when they do try to get at her.”
“I’ll always have her back,” I said, knowing that I’d never let her father and brothers demand she walk away from me again.
CHAPTER 17
Serra
Istood there like a Peeping Tom watching the two men I cared most about in this world.
What were they talking about? Me, undoubtedly. But what exactly about me? Would Pop Pop warn Noah to stay away from me? The way Sawyer had warned me off of Noah all those years ago? My heart pounded with the thought. The thick strap of my Givenchy tote hung on my left arm and my clasped hands remained fused in front of me. I was wringing them like a person watching the lottery and hoping I was holding the winning ticket.
My grandfather had lived in this town all his life, so he would’ve known or at least heard of Noah’s family. Did he share the rest of the town’s opinion that Noah and his friends were unsavable reprobates? In the weeks that I’d been here, I hadn’t heard anything negative about the guys or their bar. Then again, I didn’t go anywhere besides the lake house, here at the restaurant, and the few times I’d been to the bar. Well, I did go to the coffee shop just about every day, but nobody bothered me while I was there. At first, I thought that was the antithesis of a small town because wasn’t everybody supposed to be in everybody’s business here? I mean, people were friendly andthey spoke, but nobody besides Camy had come up to me and started a conversation.
I was certain that would change the moment that picture hit the gossip pages, but so far tonight—which was the first night I’d come into the restaurant since Sunday—I’d only received a few knowing stares and cordial back and forth pertaining to the menu, wait times, etc.
Was that what Pop Pop and Noah were talking about? The picture?
I groaned and was just about to say to hell with it and cross the room to the patio so I could join in the conversation, when she said, “Noah Jordan has always been fine, but damn, those years away only made it better. Like fine wine indeed.”
I had to do a double-take at Arnell, one of the evening hostesses. I liked her well enough that we had exchanged some conversations outside of the purview of the restaurant. Like, what movies were coming out this summer, which ones we’d already seen, hated and or loved. But men were never a topic. That and the fact that she was talking about Noah—myNoah—had my brow raising.
“Excuse me?” I had to say something other than the ‘he’s mine’ reply that bounced around in my head.
Grinning she nudged me playfully. “You were standing here staring at him like he was on the dessert menu. And I’m just sayin’ I’m enjoying the view as well.”
“Stop,” I started, then cleared my throat. “I mean, we should both stop staring, it’s rude.” With that, I turned all the way around until I was facing the front doors of the restaurant.
