Father's Keeper by Parker Ford (classic fiction .TXT) 📗

me that wanted him to pay with pain for hitting me. The otherpart of me wanted to see him so I could tell him I was sorry. That I was sorryfor saying that hateful thing and that I hadn’t meant to be such a bitch. Thatit was unfair to make him hurt more than he was.

I blew out a long, shuddering sigh andshook my head when Carl offered me a cigarette. “Ready?” he asked, leaning into kiss me.

At the very last moment I turned myhead and the kiss landed on my cheek. “Yep. I am.”

We left by the back door and walkedthe four blocks to the tavern. Every blue trucked that passed tripped my pulse,but none of them were Gil. I could neither make his pain better or make itworse, because he was nowhere to be found.

Carl held the door for me and Johnhugged me tight. Most of the customers did. The better part of them had knownme since childhood. “Of course I have a beer slinging job for you, littlegirl,” John said pulling me a draft and setting it down. “On the house,” hesaid.

“Thanks. On both counts. I don’t knowfor how long but--”

John waved a meaty hand at me andyanked two bottles of beer from the cooler for an old man in a felt hat. “Ah,you can work here as long as you like. I always need help and I always need good help worse. You’re a used to was and now you’re an is again.”

I watched Carl chatting up some guyswith guitars and shook my head, smiling. He was such a music whore. “Comeagain,” I said, sipping my beer.

“You used to work here and now youwill again.”

“Ah,” I said.

The thick wooden door swung open andRichard walked in and my pulse bottomed out. I felt lightheaded for a momentand John said, “He’s a regular. You gonna be able to handle that?”

I nodded. “It was a long, long timeago,” I said.

“Yep, it was,” he said and turned toanother waving hand.

“How ya doing, toots?” Richard asked.

He still smelled dark and earthy likea wet forest in the summer. I closed my eyes for a moment, drinking in thesmell of him. “I’m doing,” I said. “You?”

“Good,” he said, waving a finger atJohn who poured him a scotch and soda and tossed him a pack of matches for ashort, fat cigar he pulled out of a carrier. “Married and now divorced. Twopoint five kids.” He fired up a match and touched it to the fat end of thestogie.

“Two point five?”

“ A boy, a girl and a boxer puppy.” Hegrinned.

“Ah. Got it. Divorced already.”

Richard shrugged, taking me in withhis gaze. “All it took to prove to us we didn’t belong together was the stressof a marriage and two kids.”

“And a puppy,” I said feeling anunwanted tug of jealousy in my heart.

“And a puppy,” he echoed. “And you?”

I nodded to Carl, craved a cigaretteand polished off my beer in two long swigs. “No marriage, no divorce, zeropoint zero kids--or dogs--and the proud temporary owner of one musician.”

Richard laughed softly. “Staying withyour mom?”

I studied him. Did he really not know?I couldn’t’ tell. “She’s not here. She left. I’m at the house though. Gil’sletting us bunk while I figure where I want the wind to blow me.” I waited forhim to make a blow me joke but he didn’t. I guess people can change.

The band struck up the opening chordsto a classic rock song and Richard turned to me. His green eyes flashed likeuncut stones in the low light of the bar. “So what would it take for me to getyou to ditch your boy toy and go home with me and let me fuck you?”

The jealousy fled and I sighed. “Amiracle.”

Chapter5

I left Richard at the bar with hisstinky smoke and a confused look on his face. I‘m sure he was wondering why hispatented moves hadn’t worked on me. I gave Carl a key and told him to hang aslong as he wanted. He’d struck up a verbal circle jerk with the local musiciansand I could tell he was having a blast. I was not.

I walked home slowly, in no realhurry. John was expecting me for work at six the following night. I could livewith that. Six to midnight four or five days a week was doable while Iruminated my fucked up life.

I let myself in the back, mildlydisappointed but not surprised to find the fire pit dead and no Gil out backdrinking beer and watching the moon. He was pissed--and rightfully so--he’dprobably be gone all night.

I pulled a beer from the fridge andsat in the dark living room. The lights from the street painted small whitecave paintings on the wall and I studied them in the total silence of the smallhouse. Somewhere in there, I fell asleep.

* * * *

“You shouldn’t fall asleep with a fullbeer in hand,” Gil said and pulled the warm bottle from my hand.

I sat up, confused by deep sleep andbeing home. “Why? Will I burn the house down?”

“You waste a beer,” he said andoffered me his hand.

“Carl?” I took his hand, feeling astab of guilt from my harsh words earlier. He pulled me to standing, tucked mymessy hair behind my ear.

“Not here yet.”

“Time?” I yawned.

“A little after one. Come on Jenny,let’s get you upstairs. You’re wiped out.”

“Why?” I asked, truly curious. Why wasI so fucking tired? Why did I feel as if the world had been strapped to myback?

“Because coming home can beexhausting. Especially if you don’t know which road you’re going to take.”

“Which road did you take?” I asked,letting Gil lead me to the staircase.

“I took the one that I thought wouldmake me happy,” he sighed.

“Did it?” I turned to Gil, suddenlyterrified. A crushing kind of fear settling on my chest like a lead apron.

“For a while. That road made me happyand then there was a fork. Only I wasn’t the one to take an alternate road.”

“And?” I sighed.

“And I can’t control that. You can’tcontrol other people. Only yourself. So now I’m on a new road and I’ll seewhere that goes.” He