Page 86 of Painting Her Fate

“Maybe I should askyouto mind your own business this time.” He laughs once, “Naw, I just finished at the gym.” Ford at the gym this late means he can’t sleep; he has issues sleeping through the pain of his wounds some nights and will often times exhaust himself at the gym.

“Everything ok, man?” I already know what his answer would be.

“I’m beat, gonna head home and sleep until work. Talk later Corporal.” Last time he was this vague he was secretly buying Vicodin. Can I trust him? I catch him before he can hang up.

“Ford, be honest with me.” I have to be blunt no matter what when I’m talking to this guy, “you’re not using again, are you?” I hate asking that question, he hasn’t given me any other indication that he is, but I have been preoccupied with the bar as of late. I need to be sure. His annoyed tone is back in full force.

“No way. I’ve been clean. Thought about it, but I end up going to the

gym and chattin’ with the dudes about our women.” His long stream of air tells me he’s smoking, how contradictory. “There is other shit you should be worrying about, not me. I’m good, I swear.” He pauses as another signal sounds in the background, “Hey, I gotta go.” He seems agitated about something. If I find out he is using, Shark and I will kick his ass.

We hang up, I toss my phone onto the cushion beside me and cradle my head in my hands. My head is spinning from everyone’s problems around me and there is no way for me to fix it.

Lili won’t talk to me about her past, Ford might be using again, Wyatt and Emma have been trying for kids with little luck and have started IVF, I have the treat of going to the VA later today, Mattie mentioned her mom’s lung cancer isn’t responding to treatment but they are try different options, Blake is off to college soon, there are constant vendor disruptions with my ordering, and to put the cherry on top of the sundae, there is a list of shit at the bar needing fixed before the health inspector shows up.

*Exasperated*Fuck.

I am one problem away from having a Goddamn nervous breakdown. There is way too much to do, not enough money to hire anyone to fix the issues, and not enough time in the day to please everyone.

I don’t know what I’m going to do. One problem at a time, Corporal.

I pick my phone up off the cushion and send a text to Shark asking for him to call me when he has the chance. He is more than likely asleep, after all, he has to wake up in a few-

My phone rings, cutting through the silence. ‘Shark’ flashing on the screen.

I answer in a whisper, “Shark.” My gaze goes to the closed door at the end of the hall again. I stand and begin pacing the open room, the wood flooring cool beneath my feet.

“Corporal Gorski!” His voice is animated and no need to be set on speakerphone. A single laugh escapes him, “Man, how’s it going! It’s been a while.”

“Ah, you know, the bar life is always busy.” I try to keep at a whisper. Would she even wake after taking whatever that pill was? It was at least in a labeled prescribed bottle. “Keeping busy?”

“Oh, you know, living life on the edge. Netflix and a beer, the occasional girl, or two, or three. Same old, same old.” I’ll never forget how much of a ladies’ man he can be compared to Ford. “So, what has you up this late? Ford said you were with a girl.”

“What the fuck? I just got off the phone with him. He filled you in that quick?”

He laughs, “No, we talk all the time. He mentioned Lili a few days ago. Seems you’re out there fishing, nice catch Corporal.”

His excitement is infectious, my lips almost twitch.

“Anyway. Not sure what all he told you, but I need intel. I need you to look her up for me. Only you, Shark. No one else should have access. Keep it private.” I hear quick scuffling around then a rapid bout of pen clicking.

“Shoot.” That’s also Shark; under all that ladies’ man vibe sits a proud business owner who will get straight to the fucking point and not dilly dally. Pen and paper always ready to go. There is time for bullshit, but once he is set to a task, his tactics shift to all business mode. I better tell him now or I won’t have the chance before his visit.

“Liliana Hayes, twenty-four, address she gave said London, England, although I want to say she’s from somewhere in Scotland by her slight accent. Her dad is Daniel Thompson, mid-forties, Marine vet from this area. Lili is an artist, has a friend named Tamara, they run a children’s foundation together. That is about all I’ve got.”

“Ok,” he pauses to jot the last of his notes, “you want whatever I can find? How soon do you want it?” he sets the pen to a clicking fest, his excited gesture. Shark likes to stay busy and is constantly flying, “I have an assignment in Cali I’m wrapping up right now, might take me a couple days.” “Anything you can find. Focus on the name ‘Isaac’, I believe he has caused many of her problems, but she won’t tell me.”

“Isaac, got it.”

“Can you have that for me by Dyngus day?” I flex my fingers in anticipation.

“Shit, yeah.” He laughs, “I thought you wanted it tomorrow. I’ll get whatever I can for you and bring it with me.”

“You know you’re always welcome at my place.”

His lively energy is back in full force – work-mode off, “Thanks man. I can’t wait to meet this girl of yours. She already sounds better than that other bitch you had.” The pen clicking stops as I hear him take a swig of his beer.

“Outstanding. Thanks for your help, Shark.” I take a sip of my coffee, feeling a little more at ease.

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