At Peace Page 11

  “Shit, Violet, it doesn’t have to be like this.”

  I felt my head jerk but my eyes stayed pinned to his.

  “No? You don’t think so? Well, that’s where you’re wrong.” I leaned into him slightly and went on. “Not man wrong, men think they can fuck anything that moves and just carry on. Let me educate you, Joe, even though you had that scene with Kenzie then weeks later you went through Nadia and God knows who else then moved on to me so you should know but, just in case you haven’t figured it out, women aren’t built that way.”

  “That’s your world, buddy, lotsa women are built that way. Nadia for one.”

  I didn’t believe that for a second.

  Therefore, I said sarcastically, “Right.”

  “Right,” he replied.

  “You think that but trust me, you’re done with her, she goes home and cries into her Oreos.”

  He shook his head. “You don’t know her.”

  “Okay, well, I know Kenzie wanted more.”

  “Kenzie wanted what Kenzie wanted and she thinks she’ll get it, no matter what it is and she acts out when she doesn’t. Christ, the bitch is thirty-two years old and she’s been married four times.”

  This was true, I’d read all about it in magazines.

  “Listen,” I told him, deciding it was time to end this conversation and move on, “I was supposed to be at Feb’s twenty minutes ago.”

  Joe wasn’t done with the conversation. “It was sex. It’s always sex, just sex. With you, it wasn’t that. I didn’t know you lost your husband. I didn’t know the shit that was goin’ down with you.”

  He was making it worse, telling me it was just sex. I knew he thought that, of course, I just didn’t really need it confirmed.

  “Now you know, so get out of my way.”

  His hand came up, his fingers curling around my neck and he leaned his face into mine.

  “Woman, in this life, you have to have learned, you need all the friends you can get. That’s what I’m offerin’, okay?”

  God, now he wanted to be my friend. It was like he was reading this shit out of a book, how to be the most insulting you can be without even trying.

  I yanked my neck from his hold.

  “Fuck off, Joe.”

  He shook his head, still didn’t move out of the way and I noticed he looked like he was getting a little angry.

  “Joe –”

  “You know where I live. The offer’s on the table when you wanna grow up and put it behind you.”

  I let these words bounce around in my head for several seconds.

  Then instead of letting those words make my head explode, I decided to let them go.

  Though, I decided not to let it go graciously. “Don’t hold your breath while waiting for that to happen. Now could you get out of my way?”

  He watched me, that something, whatever the hell it was (and I told myself I didn’t care what it was), working behind his eyes. Then he stepped out of my way.

  It took a lot out of me and I struggled to keep it together but I managed to walk by him, through the study, into the kitchen to grab my keys and the plate of cupcakes I’d made for the barbeque and out the door without running.

  I was pretty proud of myself.

  * * * * *

  “Okay, so, that, I’ll come out of man hibernation for,” Cheryl announced.

  I looked at Cheryl and followed her eyes to see that Joe had joined the barbeque.

  Shit.

  Cheryl and I were sitting in the grass in the sun in Feb and Colt’s backyard. My legs were out in front of me and I was wearing my little army green skirt and my violet tank top I bought at Lucky with Joe and the girls. I’d helped Feb for a few hours before people showed, making macaroni salad, whipping up devilled eggs, cutting up tomatoes and onions, forming hamburger patties, dumping chips into bowls and then carting it outside to sit on a table under a sideless tent that Colt set up. We did all of this while looking after Feb’s beautiful baby boy Jack and her cat Wilson alternately raced around the house or meowed for the treats Feb refused to give him and also while trying not to trod on the adorable German Shepherd puppy Feb bought Colt for his birthday.

  This was their once a year barbeque, marking the coming of summer where they closed down the bar and had a good day with family and friends. All their employees were invited including Darryl who was a bartender, his wife Phylenda and their kids; Ruthie, a waitress; Fritzi, who cleaned the bar in the mornings; and Cheryl who worked behind the bar sometimes but was also a waitress and Cheryl brought her seven year old son, Ethan. Also there were Feb’s brother, Morrie, his wife Dee, their kids Palmer and Tuesday and Feb’s parents, Jack and Jackie. Our neighbors Jeremy and Melinda, Myrtle and Pearl were invited too (Tina and Cory were not but, according to Feb, Cory was on the outs with Tina, on the ins with his wife Bethany, and Tina was nursing her snit, not to mention Feb hated Tina because she was a bitch). Feb’s best friends Jessie (and her husband Jimbo) and Mimi (and her husband Al and their kids) and Colt’s partner Sully (and his wife Lorraine) were also there.

  And now, so was Joe.

  I watched him walk up to Colt who was manning the burgers, dogs and brats at the barbeque, baby Jack held to Colt’s hip. They did man nods and then Joe leaned down to the cooler by the grill and nabbed himself a cold one.

  I guessed he was done with my super-sophisticated alarm system. He must be good. It didn’t take long; he was only working at it a few hours.

  I sipped my margarita, glared at him and told Cheryl, “Don’t go there.”

  “Hunh?” Cheryl asked.

  I didn’t know her, I’d seen her at J&J’s a couple of times, she’d made me a drink or two. However, we’d been sitting out in the sun together drinking margaritas for at least thirty minutes. In some circles of American females, this meant you were automatic BFFs.

  Therefore, I repeated, “Don’t go there. Player.”

  “And you know this…?” Cheryl let that hang, I turned my head and just gave her a look.

  Her eyes got wide then she noted, “I didn’t peg you as the type.”

  “What type?”

  “The type to get played.”

  I shook my head. “Seein’ as I’ve had two men in my bed, my husband, who took my virginity when I was seventeen, and him,” I tilted my head toward Joe, “I’m not.”

  At this news, Cheryl’s eyes got even wider. “No joke?”

  I shook my head again. “No joke.”

  “Wow,” she whispered.

  “Wow is right,” I returned.

  “What happened to your husband? Divorce?”

  “He was shot in the head by a gangster.”

  Her mouth dropped open, her face went pale and I felt like a shit, telling her like that. I’d never told anyone like that, hell, I didn’t think I ever told anyone. Barry, Tim’s partner, and Pam, Barry’s wife, had made all the calls.

  “It was awhile ago,” I explained, my voice gentler. “He was a cop.”

  The surprise slid out of her face, her hand came out and she gave my knee a quick squeeze before it moved away.

  “Rough,” she murmured and I nodded to that understatement. “How long ago?”

  “Year and a half.”

  “Then not that long ago.”

  I looked at my feet. “Nope.”

  “You wanna talk?”

  I looked at her and repeated quietly, “Nope.”

  “You do…”

  Seriously, the folks in this ‘burg were so nice.

  It was my turn to squeeze her knee so I did and muttered, “Thanks.”

  She turned her head and her gaze went to Joe. My gaze went to anywhere but Joe.

  “Was he good?” she asked curiously.

  Good wasn’t the word for it, in fact, there were no words for it.

  I decided not to tell her that, instead I said, “Yeah.”

  Her head turned back to me and softly, she said, “Be fun to play, hon, been awhile for me and let’s just say
I’ve had a few more boys in my bed than you. But only…” she paused, “you done with him?”

  I wasn’t done with him, he was done with me which totally made me done with him.

  “Oh yeah, I’m done.”

  “You mind?” she asked.

  “Have at it,” I invited, though I had to admit it hurt, thinking of Joe moving on even though I knew it shouldn’t and I didn’t even know why it did.

  It was sex, just sex, he told me so his damned self. I was an adult, I knew the score. My girlfriends who hadn’t found the man they adored at fifteen years old had been telling me stories like this for ages. Apparently, since Tim was dead, it was my turn to get fucked over by an asshole.

  However, since I liked Cheryl, I added, “But check your heart at the door.”

  Her brows went up. “You didn’t?”

  “What?”

  “Check your heart at the door.”

  I shook my head again. “I didn’t fall for him but I thought there was something there. I was an idiot. It had been… losing Tim…” I licked my lips and Cheryl waited silently while I pulled it together, took a deep breath and finished. “Let’s just say, he made me feel like a moron because there wasn’t anything there. Nothing. Just sex. He was done with me fast, it lasted only a coupla days and he’s my next door neighbor.”

  Cheryl was staring at me when she said, “Jesus.”

  “Yep.”

  She looked back at Joe, mumbling, “Maybe I’ll steer clear.”

  “That’d be my advice.”

  “Still, he’s hot,” Cheryl was still mumbling and I forgot about Joe and me and looked at her.

  She was very pretty, a lot of blonde hair cut to hit her shoulders, fake boobs, long legs, attractive meat at her hips. She dressed kind of slutty but she worked it and it looked good on her. Her black skirt was super short, her white tank was super tight, she had on a black bra you could see through the tank and she was wearing high-heeled silver slut sandals even though we were at a backyard barbeque.

  But the look she was giving Joe after what I told her made me think she might not be so good at picking men.

  This was confirmed when she asked curiously, still checking out Joe, “You know how he got those scars?”

  “Nope. Don’t know much about him. We didn’t talk.”

  She looked at me and grinned. “Action man?”

  More like Superman but I didn’t tell her that, I just said, “Yeah.”

  She leaned into me. “My advice, though you didn’t ask for it, I’m still givin’ it to you, enjoy it for what it was. It was obviously good and a girl needs to get her some. Nothin’ wrong with that.” Her eyes went back to Joe then came to me. “He reopens that door, Vi, walk through it and take what you want. You find another man who’s good to you and wants more, you can walk away. But that was my booty call and he lived next door?” She paused, her head having jerked toward Joe and she grinned again. “I wouldn’t waste that opportunity.”

  This idea was so preposterous, I laughed out loud.

  She laughed with me and when we were done laughing, she lifted her margarita glass.

  “I’m dry, babe, you want another?”

  I handed her my glass. “That’d be cool, thanks.”

  Her eyes slid across the yard to the grill again and she went on. “I’m thinkin’ I want a brat.” She looked back to me and her look was wicked when she suggested, “Maybe you wanna come with?”

  I shook my head.

  “You look hot in that tank,” she encouraged.

  “Joe’s seen the tank. He was at my house this morning and he was with me when I bought it.”

  Her head tilted to the side in confusion. “He was at your house this morning?”

  “He’s installing a security system at my house, not by my choice.” I sighed when she looked even more confused and explained, “It’s complicated.”

  “I thought you said it was a couple night thing. He took you shopping?”

  “Shopping was after he was done with me, before the security system.” When she just stared at me, I finished. “It’s a long story, also complicated.”

  She nodded and got up, saying, “I’ll get our margs and my brat then come back and you can tell me.”

  “It’s not interesting,” I warned.

  She looked down at me on the grass from her slut shoes, high-heeled height and remarked, “Known a lot of men, mostly assholes and players, so got some experience, so much you could pretty much say I’m an expert. Don’t know a single player who takes a woman shoppin’ and installs a security system in her house after he’s done with her.” She leaned down a bit and smiled, saying, “So, babe, gotta say, this complicated business sounds all kinds of interesting.”

  Before I could reply, she walked away, somehow managing to walk through grass in high, spiked heels without looking like a fool and I decided Cheryl was very cool.

  “Momalicious!” I heard shouted from beside me and I turned to see Keira running into the yard, her arms wheeling, her hair flying, her face in a full-on smile.

  She threw herself at me and I caught her because I had no choice and went down on my back. She slid off my side and got up on a hand to look down at me.

  “Get this!” she shouted.

  “Hello, my darling Keira,” I cut her off and my eyes went up to see Heather, Keira’s friend (who, incidentally, looked exactly like a Heather, petite, tons of curly-to-frizzy red hair and about seven million freckles all over her body). I came up on both elbows and said, “Hey Heather.”

  “Hi Miz Winters,” Heather smiled at me.

  “Mom!” Keira called my attention to her. “Guess what?”

  “What baby?”

  “Heather’s dog had puppies!” she shrieked.

  Oh fuck.

  Keira had always wanted a dog, always. She’d been at Tim and I since the minute she knew dogs existed and she could speak intelligent English. Tim had wanted a dog too. It was me who held back because I loved dogs and my Dad got me one when I was nine and she’d been run over when I was fifteen and that had been the worst day of my life, losing my dog (until two years later, when I found out I was pregnant and Mom and Dad had thrown me out of their house). I didn’t want that for my daughter (or Tim, for that matter), the inevitable day when your beloved family pet would go away. I wanted to shield Keira whose heart, like mine and her sister’s, was too big for her own good, from that hurt.

  Now it seemed ridiculous, she’d lost something far more precious than the family pet.

  “They’re all white and so fluffy and cuddly and Heather’s Dad said they’ll give us one for only two hundred dollars!” Keira went on.

  I stared at her.

  Two hundred dollars?

  The money situation had settled, mainly because Bobbie still hadn’t found anyone part-time and she didn’t seem to mind paying me overtime. It was high season for her (outside of Christmas, Bobbie put on a whale of a Christmas at her shop, her displays were extravagant and you could buy anything Christmas there, she was known for it, people came from neighboring states just to shop at Bobbie’s for Christmas crap or simply to wander around). I was getting five to ten hours a week on time and a half which helped loads.

  But she could find someone and things would change. I didn’t need an extra mouth to feed, even a canine one and especially a canine one that cost two hundred dollars.

  “That’s a lot of money for a dog,” I told Keira.

  “They sell them for a lot more than that, he’s gonna give us a deal,” Keira replied.

  I was acutely aware of Heather standing there so I said to my daughter, “Let’s talk about this later, honey.”

  “I know what you’re thinking,” she told me. “But we can’t have the puppy for a couple of weeks and I thought I could save my allowance until then and talk to Kate. She and I can go halves.”

  There was no way in hell Keira was going to save her allowance for however many weeks it took to wean a puppy.

  Kate
saved her money and spent it frugally. She got the job at the Custard Stand for the summer for extra cash and because it was the cool place to work. It was a coup she got it. Everyone who worked there did it because most of the kids hung out there so she was essentially making cones and sundaes during a summer-long party. But with Dane carting her everywhere her Fiesta barely ever left the drive, she was depositing her money in her account and not even paying for gas.

  Keira, on the other hand, went through money like water. With my overtime and Kate’s work, Keira’s household chores had increased. She’d complained but she did it because I upped her weekly allowance from ten dollars to twenty. But it was a wonder, with the way Keira was with money, that her allowance didn’t go up in a poof of smoke the minute I handed it to her.

  “We’ll talk about it later,” I repeated.

  “Mom –”

  I lifted up a hand and put my fingers to her lips, saying quietly, “Later, baby.”

  She emitted a heavy sigh and said against my fingers, “All right.”

  I moved my fingers from her mouth to slide into her hair and I pulled her forehead to my lips and kissed her there. When I let her go, I knew there were no hard feelings because she lifted up and kissed me back the same way.

  God, I loved my daughter.

  Her head turned, her eyes caught on something, her face went bright and she shouted, “Joe!”

  I looked across the yard and saw Joe, Cheryl holding a brat in a bun standing next to him, watching us.

  My stomach again tied in knots.

  Keira scrambled up, jumped over my body and grabbed Heather’s hand. Then she dragged Heather across the yard straight to Joe.

  Okay, so I loved my daughter but she was a nut and I hoped she didn’t have some kind of teenage girl crush on Joe. That would suck, for Keira and for me.

  “I have got to take a load off,” I heard Feb say from my side and I tore my eyes away from Keira skidding to a halt in front of Joe, bringing Heather up beside her, tipping her head back and saying something to him. Mostly, I had to admit, I tore my eyes away from Joe dipping his chin to stare down at my daughter, his face going soft when he did.

  I looked up at Feb, who had a Diet Coke in one hand and baby Jack at her hip. I sat up and lifted my arms.

  “Give him to me.”