Chapter 10
Ten
EMILY
During a day shift, the minutes crawl by. A handful of tables are busy with folks rushing through their work lunch, and the bar is empty which means I’ll get paid for the hours but tips will suck. I took it because of the extra money and because my grandfather promised he’d stay home with the kids.
Since there isn’t much to do, my mind keeps going back to everything that’s happened since the opening of Saddles, like the picnic with Derek, and his visits to the house with the kids playing with him. My mind is full of everything Derek.
He keeps asking me to stay, that he needs more time, and I can’t give it to him. It’s not that I don’t want to or think he’s wrong. Convincing James and Victoria to leave the home they knew so soon after Ryan’s death was tough enough. I promised them we would be back within the year, and I’m not going back on my promises.
I know what it’s like to have a parent promise something and never deliver. I’ll come back after work. I’ll visit this weekend. All lies. And I know what it’s like to have your whole world upended when a parent dies. I don’t know if my mother would have fared any better if she’d been the one to survive the car accident. Maybe she wouldn’t have dropped us off at Nana and Papa’s saying she’d be back that night for us, never to return. I hope she would have had the fortitude to fight for us. To stay.
My brother was two, same age as Victoria was when Ryan died. He doesn’t remember, but I do. I was eight, older than James. And I felt responsible for him, too. I remember crying in my Nana’s lap wondering why my dad didn’t want to come back for us. And how I’d get my hopes up when he’d call and say that this was the night he would pick us up and we would go home. He’d claim he was ready to take us back. And then never show until eventually, he stopped calling.
It’s why I can’t have my kids go through the same thing. I can’t have them falling for empty promises and having their hearts broken. I want them to always know where I am. Where to find me. And that’s home. In Maryland. Not at my brother’s house. But at the home that Ryan and I bought for our family.
It’s not that hard to find a way to give them the stability they need to grow up knowing they are loved, and have a place, and someone who loves them to fall back on.
“Hey. You okay?” Mark nudges me, and my attention flies to my reflection in the mirrored wall behind the bar.
I grab a black square bar napkin and wipe at the moisture under my eyes.
“I’m fine,” I say for the millionth time since the chaplain and the officer knocked on our door to deliver the news about Ryan.
“Need me to kick lover boy’s ass?” Mark asks wearing a smirk on his face.
He’s taken to calling Derek that. I shush him since we’re at work, but no one can hear us.
He waggles his brows at me.
“What?” I keep my voice low.
“Still waiting for you to tell me everything. We’ve got time.”
I’ve been deflecting every time we’re at work, grateful for the chaos of the night shift full of nonstop orders, drunk tourists and locals, a band, and a typical downtown bar scene.
“Give me every dirty detail,” Mark adds .
I laugh.
We don’t have time as a man, in a suit, likely in his forties, takes a seat at the bar. I welcome him, make some small talk, and leave him a printed menu. “These are our specialty drinks, and we have a full bar. Let me know what you’d like.”
The customer glances at Mark at the other end of the counter and thanks me.
“You’re up,” I say to Mark when I reach him.
“Not bad,” Mark says with interest in his tone. “By the way, your boy, Tyler, damn. Man’s been starring in my fantasies.”
“Married. Sorry. To a woman.”
“Damn,” he says as the man waves to us.
Mark swaggers over and leans on his forearms in front of the customer. They exchange a few smiles and banter.
I don’t even remember what it’s like to flirt. Maybe I have to pay attention to Mark. He’s got pegue , Spanish for the sexy charm people can’t resist.
After Mark makes the drink and sets it in front of the customer, the phones come out, and there’s an exchange.
When Mark comes back, I shake my head at him.
“What?”
“Nothing. Like always, admiring your talent.”
He laughs. “Need some tips on getting the big guy back into your bed?” He nudges his elbow into me.
“You and Holly might be twin souls.” I shake my head, holding in the laughter.
I’ll miss Mark.
“Won’t be that hard. He was eye fucking you all night. I doubt he’d hesitate to get in your little booty shorts.”
I look down at my shorts. “Never gonna happen.”
“Seriously. He sees you as more than a fling. Amanda told me he’s a straightforward, all business type of guy, but that night, he was a fumbling fool. Made me rethink working there, but I trust Amanda.”
“He'll ensure Santos is the absolute best restaurant in the world. It’s what he’s always wanted, and he’ll take you along, too. He doesn’t forget those who are loyal to him.” I sigh. “I left the club a long time ago.”
“I know I’m right. You two are,” he makes whooshing and popping noises while his fingers splay, “fireworks.”
He doesn’t know how right he is. “Everything with Derek is intense. In a good way.”
“You going to tell me?” he asks, again.
I do. I tell him everything, ending with, “I still feel so much guilt over him not knowing.”
Mark’s hand lands on mine. “You did your best with what you had. You’ll have to forgive yourself or else it will eat away at you.”
“He wants me to stay for the summer. Get to know James. He’s good with him and Victoria.”
“I bet she has him wrapped around her tiny little princess pinky.”
I laugh. “She had him coloring and was bossing him around within the hour.”
“How’s it going?” Mark asks.
“He visits on days he’s not at the restaurant. He tried coming over after work, but he never left early enough before the kids were asleep. This morning Victoria asked if he was coming over.” They expect him now. At least Victoria does. James’ ears perk up when Victoria asks, but he stays quiet. And when Derek is with us, James pays attention to him, and they seem to enjoy each other’s company. When I watch them, a quiet calm takes over like I can finally breathe. I sound like I’m in need of medical attention. I switch to, “Derek hasn’t complained about James’ clothes, his hair, or his nails. He watches him as he plays with the dolls. He didn’t flinch the other day when James wore a dress. Sometimes I wonder if he’s holding out for it to be a phase. What if it’s not?”
“Time will tell.” Mark runs a comforting hand down my shoulder. He breaks away to serve the customer a fresh drink .
When he’s back, I lower my voice, “Do you mind if I ask you something?”
Mark smiles as if he expects what I’m about to ask. “I always knew.”
“How old were you?”
“Don’t think there was ever a specific moment. My mother says I was very much a boy as a kid, then when I was eight or nine, I came home with a crush on one of my classmates. Says she knew.”
“Did she think it was a phase?”
He narrows his eyes and, in a very matter-of-fact tone, says, “You don’t buy into that line of thinking. Do you need me to talk to Derek?”
I don’t know about Derek, and I can’t speak for him. But I knew Ryan. “Ryan did. He talked to a buddy who went through the same thing. He said his son outgrew it. I think Ryan hoped he would.”
“Did he change his mind?”
“Not really.” I don’t know if Ryan would have changed his mind ever. He loved James, no doubt. “With time he would have accepted it. If he’d had time.”
“Sorry to hear.” Mark doesn’t offer me pity, only kindness in his words.
“It’s not a phase. I wish my grandparents would understand, too. I want him to grow up feeling safe. Feeling accepted. Unconditionally.”
Mark wraps an arm around my shoulders. “You’re already helping. That’s the biggest step of all. With you by his side, he’ll do better than most.”
“That’s another reason. Kids whose parents don’t understand break my heart.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything since you were leaving, but maybe there is something you can do.” Mark tells me about the Community Pride Center where he volunteers and about a fundraiser in August. They’re still looking for donations .
“Want me to work there and serve drinks?” I ask, wondering what that gleam in his eye is about.
He shakes his head and pulls up his phone. “We still need donations. There’s a live auction, and in past years we’ve had items raise tens of thousands of dollars. Here, this was last year’s list.”
There’s a seven-day stay at a resort in Cancun, a day with the Padres, a date with a local celebrity who I know is married with kids. I whistle. “Wow, those are out of my price range.”
Mark leans in. “Think you could get baby daddy to donate something?”
My stomach twists. I’m not asking Derek for a thing. Not even for something as important as this. It’s not my pride, but it’s the clawing feeling I was left with after Ryan died. Having him take care of everything bit me in the ass, and I won’t be depending on anyone ever again.
I can help any way I can. “I don’t think I’m in any position to ask for anything.”
“You could get into all kinds of positions.” Mark taps me with his elbow. He and Holly would have a grand ole time at my expense.
I laugh, but my voice shakes. “Not going there. Ever.”
“He has big dick energy. And not in the bad way. He’s big, isn’t he?”
My cheeks burn up. “I’m not answering that!” I grab a menu and fan myself.
Mark laughs.
All I think about for the rest of the shift is how right Mark is.
And I’m still thinking about it when Derek arrives later that evening after he’s finished with business at the restaurant. At least this time, he told me he’d be here later. He carries a bag full of to go containers claiming Amanda insisted he bring us some, although the gesture has Derek Anderson written all over it. The sweet potato and bean tacos are incredible, and I’m tempted to shamelessly lick the containers clean. Even Victoria asks for more.
After James and Victoria are finally in bed, which took some time because they were full of energy at Derek’s visit, he says, “I have something else.”
The boyish grin takes over, and my heart jumps into my throat to the sounds of fireworks going off in my head, much like Mark’s version of what lives between Derek and me.
“I left it in the truck.” He looks at the door then me. “Were you planning to go to bed soon?”
I shake my head. “I need to clean up a bit.”
He captures my wrist. “I’ll help you with that. Just hang on.”
He darts out to the truck and comes back with a bottle wrapped in a paper bag.
He runs a hand through his hair as his cheeks shift to the lightest shade of pink. Is he nervous? “It’s not much, but it came in today. I know it’s your favorite.” He thrusts the package at me.
I pull the bottle out and my eyes go wide. “I haven’t had this in so long.”
I stare at the familiar label. It’s my favorite tequila, a boutique extra anejo that’s hard to find outside of Mexico. It’s sweet and smooth like liquid caramel.
“How?” I ask.
“I contacted the distributor. I’m, uh, considering stocking it at Santos.”
I blink and blink again. “You mean your restaurant will always have some of this?”
His entire face lights up. “I want only the best.”
I stare at the bottle then him. “Thank you.” My voice is all sultry. I clear my throat. “Let’s open it.”
“Let’s,” he says as he follows me to the kitchen. I find two of the smallest glasses I own and pour an ounce and a half.
I inhale the scent, and my body tingles. I shouldn’t be this excited about a tequila, but it truly is delicious and a rarity. “I can’t believe you’re going to carry it at Santos.”
He grins, glass in his hand. “The owners have been looking for more opportunities in the states. They invited me to tour the distillery.” He shrugs a shoulder. “Maybe you could come, too?”
Gah. He’s a major music star, but right now, he’s the boy asking me to prom.
“That’s kind of them,” I answer, aware that I’m not making commitments to travel internationally to Tequila, Mexico with him. “It’s a nice night out, want to sip this in the garden?”
The yard between the big house and my bungalow isn’t very wide, but my brother set up an outdoor couch with a table on a small deck. I grab a throw blanket, and Derek grabs the bottle. We settle into the couch. The smooth tequila warms me over, and I close my eyes, sinking into the feeling.
Derek makes a pained noise, and my eyes pop open. In the faint light of the yard, I can make out the intensity in his gaze.
“Thank you for this, really.” I hug the glass with both hands, considering what I’m about to say. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had something for me. It’s really special. Thank you.”
“I remembered how much you enjoy it.” He smiles, and my attention fixates on the just right shape of his lips with the bottom one slightly more plump than the top. They glisten like he’s licked them recently.
I take another sip of tequila because I’m suddenly too thirsty.
To distract me, I ask how the preparations for the restaurant are going. He lists out what they’ve done and what’s left. He has a clear timeline taking him to the opening in September.
I ask him about life on the road. He tells me about the early days and then getting signed. He talks about their first tour and which artists they’ve met. He has an incredible life. It’s what we dreamed of, correction, everything he wanted. I tell him about living in Germany and then moving back to the states.
I don’t stop myself when I tell him, “I worry if I’m raising good humans. And everything I do is for them to have more than I did at their age. It’s not about money, it’s about them feeling confident, and secure.”
He stares at the amber liquid in his glass as he swirls it. “You haven’t changed.”
My back stiffens. “What do you mean?”
His whole body takes on the Derek intensity. “You’re so fucking brave. I know I was pissed you’d committed to the Army, but fuck, I didn’t have that much courage, and I know why you did it. And moving cross country for what’s best for James and Victoria. You’re doing an amazing job because you’re showing them that nothing is impossible.”
My jaw drops. Does he know that’s what I see in him? He went after everything he wanted. “I could say the same about you.”
He sends me a small smile, and I feel my own grow.
I clear my throat. “Any country star gossip I should know about?” Turning to face him, I tuck my legs under me.
He laughs but tells me wild stories of being on tour.
I don’t know how long we sit out there. The fog of a long day begins to take over. I move toward him, as the temperature drops. I inhale his citrus and pine scent. The blanket moves and Derek tucks it around my shoulders. He asks if I want to move inside, but I don’t answer as sleep takes over.
I’m aware that I’m moving but not on my own.
I lay on something soft and warm. My bed. I mumble a thanks, and the answer is a soft chuckle. I fade into deep sleep.