She’s making a lot of sense tonight about a lot of things. Not for the first time, I’m grateful she stayed when I took over.
“Noted. I’ll post some want adds to find a new waitress.”
“And a new bartender. Plan to succeed, boss. We’re gonna need both.”
The front door opens and the humidity hits me like a freight train. So does the sound of a dozen or so professional football players celebrating a win. It’s go time as the team starts to trickle in. Frankie goes straight to Tammy for a kiss on the cheek, which makes her blush and giggle, then goes to sit at his favorite booth.
Tammy and I hustle for a solid hour plus as drinks are ordered and served. This is what I love—when we’re busy and customers are happy, significant others joining in to give their congratulations on a well-deserved win.
The only one seemingly not happy is Dwayne, who realizes he made a bad choice on drinking tonight. I can’t help but chuckle at his bad luck. Tammy’s right about him. He’s a staple in this bar and if this is where he’s happy and comfortable, it doesn’t really matter what anyone else thinks. I appreciate Tammy reminding me of that, even if it makes me feel like a dick sometimes.
Things finally start to settle into a steady but manageable pace when Heath and Lauren walk in. Heath gestures hello to me and heads for his team. Lauren, on the other hand, walks up to the bar. I have a feeling we’re about to have a heart to heart.
“Before you start, are you here to order, or are you going to berate me, too? Because Tammy already did.”
“I like Tammy more and more,” Lauren says under her breath as she slides on the stool. “I could rip you a new one but I’ve only heard bits and pieces of your night together, which incidentally it’s about damn time. But Kiersten has bigger fish to fry right now so I’ll save it until a later date. Can I get whatever ale you have on tap?”
“Sure. And what do you mean she has bigger fish to fry? Is something else going on? I thought she was just trying to get away from me.”
“Don’t give yourself so much credit. Kiersten has been thoroughly dicked over in ways you can’t even imagine. Your little fickle act doesn’t mean all that much.”
I wince at the harshness of her words. I don’t like being lumped into the category of “men who have screwed Kiersten over.” I also don’t like knowing there is a category at all.
“It’s not me being fickle.”
She gives me a disbelieving look but says nothing.
“It’s not about not being sure of my feelings. It’s… according to Tammy, well, according to me too, it’s fear.”
Lauren takes a drink, showing no reaction to what felt like a huge revelation to me. “Of what?”
“Failing her.”
“Seems to me you already did.”
“I know. And I’ve spent a part of tonight thinking about how to fix it. How to get over myself, I guess,” I say with a deep sigh. “I don’t want to yank her around.”
“She won’t let you anyway. You may have some deep fear of commitment or whatever, but she’s been burned in the hardest way. And one thing I know of Kiersten is she might give you a second chance. Might. But there won’t be a third. You better be damn sure you don’t squander it.”
“I won’t.”
“See that you don’t.” Lauren slides off the stool, and I assume this conversation is over. But I need to know one more thing before she gets back to her friends.
“Hey, Lauren.”
She looks me in the eye, waiting for whatever I have to say.
“Is she okay? Is Carson? I should have checked on them. I was… I thought I was giving her space.” I could kick myself for assuming Kiersten’s disappearance was about me.
Lauren’s eyes soften as she takes in my very genuine concern. “They’re fine. It’s not my story to tell, but I will say you need to talk to her. I have a feeling you are the only one who can provide the kind of support she needs right now.”
I nod as ideas begin running through my brain on how I can be there for Kiersten. I don’t know what exactly is going on, but I need to make this right. And I won’t make this same mistake again.
TWENTY-FOUR
Kiersten
My back aches from carrying boxes and my whole body is still sore from driving. I’m mentally and physically exhausted, and yet, I’m still going. I don’t have a choice right now. I can’t stop. I won’t stop.
Bleary-eyed, I settle on instant oatmeal for breakfast this morning. It’s not Carson’s favorite, but anything that only requires one hand for eating is easier for Nicole. Right now, that’s my priority.
“Mama!” Carson yells despite my near-constant shushing. “Mama, I hungee!”
I give him my best stern look, but he doesn’t tear his eyes from the television, instead, continuing his demands.
“Mama!”
Huffing, I walk his plastic bowl to the small table before approaching him. “Carson, your food is on the table. Now stop yelling. NicNic is sleeping.”
“No, she’s not.”
My sister comes shuffling out of the bedroom, careful not to move too quickly. It takes everything in me not to react to her appearance, knowing it only makes things harder when I do. But that doesn’t mean my heart doesn’t feel like it stalls whenever I take her in.
When I first met her at the hospital, her hair was matted and she had blood all over her face mixed in with mascara that at some point had been dripping down her cheeks before it dried. I don’t know how long that little shit Jeremy spent beating her, but it was enough to leave her with a black eye, a broken nose, a fractured wrist, and bruises covering most of her body. And still, as hard as I tried, as hard as the social worker tried, Nicole won’t press charges.
The only good news is the statute of limitations gives her two years to change her mind. Pictures of her injuries were taken, a police report was filed, and I have all the officer’s information. When my sister is ready, I’ll be right here helping her through the legal process.
The other good news is the college allowed her to withdraw, effective immediately, with no penalty to her transcript. I’m almost positive it’s because the dean saw her face, so he pulled some strings. Whether it was out of the kindness of his heart or because he’s afraid they’ll end up on the news due to the beating happening on campus, I’m not sure. Either way, it gives Nicole the ability to start college over when she’s ready.
For now, the only thing I know for certain is she’s moved in with me, disconnected her phone, and shut down all her social media. It’s still not locking that asshole up, but I have to give her credit for at least getting away from him. One step at a time.
Gingerly, she sits down at the table just in time for me to place her oatmeal in front of her.
“How are you feeling this morning?”
“Sore,” she says as she picks up her spoon and slowly begins to eat.
“Do you need a painkiller?”
She nods. “Yeah, my wrist is really aching this morning.”
Anger surges through me when she mentions the pain she’s in. It’s a good thing Jeremy never showed his face at the hospital. Jail time is nothing compared to the things I want to do to him for hurting my baby sister.