“Will I see you tomorrow… well… later today?” she asked.
He pulled on his shirt and straightened his hair with his hands.
“I don’t know,” he said, yawning loudly. “Probably.”
She nodded again, but didn’t feel relieved. She hated herself for how insecure she felt. One of these days she was going to have to stop beating around the bush and tell him what she and Charlie were planning and what role he would play in those plans.
He sat on the edge of the bed and slipped his feet into his shoes. She reached around from behind and rubbed his stomach. When he was done he turned around and kissed her again. As the kisses became passionate he almost got undressed again, but he thought better of it and pulled away from her.
“I’ll talk to you later,” he said brusquely, walking towards the door and not looking back.
“Yeah. Sure,” she said, not angry or hurt anymore. She knew that in the end, she was going to get more out of him than he was going to get out of her.
Nearly four in the morning and still no sleep. Charlie Henry gazed forlornly out his bedroom window. The Indian Summer nights in this part of the country were incredible. The days were still hot and dry, but the cool mountain air was refreshing.
Charlie was far from sentimental. He hadn’t even attended his own mother’s funeral. It wasn’t sentiment, he reasoned. It was mostly lust that he felt for that girl, but she had succeeded in ending their relationship. Their interactions were strictly professional and only to do with their little… project. He rubbed the spot where her gorgeous body used to lie. He caressed the pillow where her beautiful hair would cascade down. He rolled onto his back, silently chiding himself for being such an emotional Lilliputian.
Charlie sighed and pulled his blankets to his shoulders. He suddenly thought of that Patton Larsen. His mood quickly changed from melancholy to malevolence. He cursed Larsen bitterly under his breath. Perhaps it wasn’t Larsen he was angry at. It was Travis’ failure to remove him from the picture.
Stalin ran Trotsky out of Russia and eventually took him out for good. Castro had similar success with Che, first marginalizing him, then pushing him out of the Cuban power structure. Others failed to eliminate their nemeses and later paid the price. He wasn’t sure why he thought of Larsen as his enemy. They had only that one verbal exchange. But Charlie Henry wasn’t used to being talked to like that—with such confidence and such contempt.
Now that he was sufficiently angry, Charlie threw his sheets off of his body and rolled to the edge of the bed. His feet found his slippers and he let out a loud yawn. He was feeling older for some reason. The thought depressed him because when he’d first reached this new place he’d been so rejuvenated. Now that feeling was beginning to fade. He sneered in the dark. He needed a new plan, but he wasn’t going to be able to make one without coffee. He thought of Anna again and shook his head.
“Oh Anna,” he said to no one. “What are you up to now?”
Patton stood and clinked his knife against his wine glass.
“I’d like to make a toast.”
The room eventually went silent and all eyes turned to him. It was an intimate gathering of friends–Patton and Jennifer, Frank and Shontae, and Mike and his new girlfriend–a girl that looked quite young to Jennifer and was quite a looker according to Patton.
It was the evening of Labor Day, the holiday that unofficially signified the end of summer. The weather had finally turned. The days were still hot, but the night air was cool. Leaves high in the mountains were starting to turn colors. Football season had started. It was beginning to feel like autumn. Dinner was now over. Many of them were finishing dessert. The men had cigars and brandy. The women had wine.
“Everyone,” he said, standing in a relaxed parade rest. “Jennifer and I have an announcement,” he said then paused to let the drama build. “We’re getting married next month.”
The table erupted in cheers and there were some whoops of celebration. Shontae leaned over and kissed Jennifer on the cheek. The news wasn’t surprising, but it was welcome.
“Congratulations,” Frank said, beaming, raising his drink to Patton.
Mike rose and congratulated his friends’ announcement then toasted the continued success of their business venture. The toast was met with another round of hearty cheers. Business had indeed been good. In only six months, the three partners were well ahead of their original projections. They’d opened up markets throughout northern Utah and southern Idaho and were looking to start dealing with some farmers and ranchers in western Nevada.
But this was an evening to forget business. All of the men had agreed before this get together that no one would bring up the company, margins, profits, or anything else business related. The festive mood grew and they poured another round of drinks.
An hour later it was just Patton and Frank, sitting on lawn chairs on Frank’s grass. Empty beer bottles littered the grass around them. They were both nursing a whiskey and Coke and both held smoldering cigars. Frank took a long, satisfying draw from his cigar and leaned back and looked at the stars. They were so bright out here away from the city. The beauty and immensity of the night sky suddenly made him feel very small.
Frank sighed in obvious satisfaction. Patton looked at him and grinned.
“What?” Frank asked, chuckling.
Patton gazed up at the stars himself and exhaled, relaxed, at peace, and completely happy.
“My wife—” Patton said, then caught himself. “My first wife,” he clarified. Frank smiled sadly at his friend but said nothing. Patton continued. “She grew up in rural California. Central Valley.”
Frank nodded. He was familiar with nearly every stretch of his home state, particularly the Central Valley.
“She grew up in a place kind of like this,” Patton said, letting the memory of her wash over him like the late summer air. “The way she used to describe it… sounded like heaven to me.”
Frank looked at him curiously. He’d never seen Patton like this before. He looked content, not needing to be somewhere else or to be doing the next thing on his list.
“She made us all go camping,” Patton continued, sounding dreamy. “At first I hated it, but it got to the point I looked forward to it every year.” A painful smile washed over Patton’s face. “And she made it so fun for the kids. We’d hike in the day and fish and then at night we watch the stars and tell scary stories.”
Frank gave his friend an approving nod and a warm smile.
“We never did anything like that. Shontae wanted to do things like that but I was always too busy working and traveling. I missed so much. I pretty much missed everything.” He trailed off, obviously feeling shame and regret.
“But you were making a better life for your family,” Patton said, trying to reassure his friend.
Frank looked at Patton soberly. He was grateful for the sentiment but didn’t accept the excuse. He shook his head and gazed back up at the stars. “That’s what I kept telling myself. I grew up poor. Piss poor. My old man was a mechanic and he loved those damn Chevelles. You know what a Chevelle looks like?”
Patton nodded.
“That’s my name, you know,” Frank said, revealing his deepest, darkest secret that only his family knew.
Patton looked at him, how brow furrowed with confusion. “What is?” he asked.