Huh, so he can talk. I put the plates down and return a moment later with their shakes. Grace gives me a small smile as Zeke digs into his fries. It’s almost like he’s trying to keep his mouth full, so he doesn’t have to talk to me. I remember the blood I saw Grace cough up last night, and I wonder when they last had a decent meal. “Grace?” I start quietly, glancing at Zeke as he gulps his shake. “Can I speak to you for a minute? Alone?”
“Of course,” she says, dabbing at her mouth with a napkin before standing and slowly following me over to the corner of the bar. I help her into a seat and sit opposite her. Her hands are clasped on the table between us, her knuckles white.
“What’s going on?” I ask gently. I’m not ready for the flood of silent tears that pours down her face. “Hey,” I say, laying my hand softly on hers. “You can tell me.”
“I can’t,” she gasps, tears pouring down her face. I glance over at Zeke; he’s watching us, trying to be inconspicuous as he eats.
“Is it money?” I ask, desperate to try and find a way to help them. I hate the idea of Grace and her son being without food. “Do you need a job?”
Grace shakes her head. “I wouldn’t be able to keep it for long.” she sighs. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“Back home,” she explains, her eyes connecting with mine. She looks exhausted. “To finish my palliative care.”
“Your what?” Surely she didn’t say what I think she did.
Grace nods. “I’m dying,” she says simply. There are no tears, no fear. Just a resounding sadness. It’s as though she’s accepted her fate.
I sit back in shock, shaking my head in disbelief. “How?” My voice sounds hollow.
“Brain tumor.”
“Does Zeke know?”
Grace nods. “Yeah, he knows. I’m taking him to his father tonight. I have no one else to look after him, and I don’t know what else to do.”
“Of course,” I say, my mind still reeling. “Fuck, Grace, I’m so sorry.” I watch helplessly as she starts to cry again. I feel terrible. What the hell do you say to someone in this situation? I feel for Zeke, since I know what it’s like to lose a parent. “Where’s his father?” I ask, thinking the man must be a jerk to not be in his own son’s life, especially at a time like this.
“Actually,” Grace begins slowly. “I was hoping you could tell me.”
“Me?” I ask, my eyes widening. How the hell should I know where his deadbeat father is? I’d like to, though; I’d have no trouble kicking him in the balls so hard he’d never be able to conceive another kid.
The door of the bar opens and I turn to see Stone walking in. He stops for a moment at Zeke’s table to say hello. Zeke looks over at us, pointing to our table.
Stone glances up . . . and freezes. It’s like all the blood has drained from his face. He slowly walks toward us, seeming like it’s an effort for him to put one foot in front of the other. “Stone,” I say with a smile, standing up as he finally stops at the table. “I want you to meet my friend, Grace.”
“Hello, Ethan,” she greets him in a quiet voice.
“Gracie,” he replies, his voice sounding strangled. He looks like he’s seen a ghost. My head whips back and forth between the two of them, and I’m sure I look as confused as I feel. “Do you know each other?” I ask, a sinking feeling settling in the pit of my stomach as I look at Stone. I think deep down I already know the answer to that question.
“I should say so,” Stone answers quietly, his voice laced with irony as he gives me a small, apologetic smile. What he says next rocks my world. I will never be the same again. “She’s my wife.”
I’m almost certain I didn’t hear him correctly. “Your what?” I ask, hating that my voice has suddenly taken on a pitch much like Mickey Mouse.
Stone nods, his eyes piercing me. “My wife,” he confirms.
I feel as though the room is suddenly spinning. His face in front of me is blurry, and my legs are shaking.
“Shan, are you all right?” I hear his voice ask me that question, but it sounds so far away. I want to laugh, I want to cry… but I feel numb.
“Stone,” I hear Grace speaking quietly. “Can I talk to you? Privately?” Stone glances over at me, and I mutely nod my head. Holding the edge of the bar for support, I drag my feet one after the other into the office, closing the door behind me.
I fall into the chair and stare at the wall, not really seeing anything. My hands blindly reach for the decanter that sits on the desk. It belonged to Daddy and is just another part of the bar I refuse to change. I pour myself a glass of whiskey, down it fast and pour another. My hands are shaking so badly I almost drop the decanter as I put it down on the desk and recap it.
He’s married. That thought plays over and over like a bad song in my head.
He’s fucking married.
How could I be so stupid? Don’t get involved with another damaged man. That’s what I’d been telling myself for the past year, but at the first sign of someone needing me, I’d jumped at the opportunity.
With Troy, it’d been love at first sight. He’d swept into town on his black Harley Davidson, his short, black hair spiked into points, tattoos covering both of his arms and flashing that killer smile at me. He was so unlike any of the other boys in our town, and just what I needed to distract me from an overprotective father. For the first time in my life, someone was actually paying attention to me. Not just someone, a boy. And for the first time in my life, it wasn’t just to get close to my prettier, younger sister, Natalie. It didn’t take Troy long to seduce me with stories about the city, and before I knew it, I was nineteen years old, speeding off on the back of his Harley as we ran away together. For me, it was about running away from my awkwardness, my responsibilities. I was no longer ‘Shannon Harper, eldest daughter of Darius, older sister and mother figure of Natalie’. In the city, I was simply Shan – a curly haired, wide-eyed young girl, free to finally be herself.
Or so I’d thought.
Things were so different in the city, and it didn’t take me long to realize I was a fish out of water.
The first time I saw Troy selling drugs, I was shocked. What the hell had I gotten myself into? Daddy had always instilled in us girls the dangers of peer pressure. But Troy took me in his arms and kissed away my fears. “This will pay for your dreams, kitten,” he’d tell me, pleading with me to understand.
And I thought I did understand. I thought Troy just wanted to give me everything I wanted in life.
But I was never given the opportunity. Six months after moving to the city, my dream turned into a nightmare. Even now, I can see her face, lifelessly looking back at me in the water. It was him. I know it.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I sit back on the chair and use my feet to slowly swivel around until I’m facing toward the window. My eyes widen in surprise as I notice it’s already dark. How long have I been sitting here?
I try to stand and almost immediately stumble and drop to my knees. A glance at the desk shows the empty decanter. Fuck.
Gripping the edge of the table, I carefully make it to my feet and peer through the window out into the main bar area. It’s empty. I vaguely recall Ruth coming into the office once. Stone must have called her to take over the bar for the night shift. I should feel a little bad about that, but instead I’m relieved. I don’t think I could have handled being nice to the customers tonight.
As I exit the office, the door of the bar opens. I pause, cursing under my breath. It’s closing time; I don’t want to deal with this shit right now. I force a smile and turn around, but that smile falters when I see Effie standing at the bar, a short, pudgy man by her side. He looks ridiculous, like a fat version of the Monopoly man. “Hi, Effie,” I say in my most polite voice, hobbling over to the bar. “I’m afraid we’re closed.”