Chapter 5
After the excitement at the laser tag hippodrome—I mean, there had to be a word for it—the day settled down, and surprise, surprise, there was even time for the promised shift meal.
We went to Rock Top Brewing because Deputy Bobby couldn’t believe I’d never been.
In my defense, when we went out as a group, we always went to the Otter Slide, and I only had so much free time available for drinking (something no writer has ever said before).
Rock Top was built on the beach—a gabled roof, cedar shake siding, and a covered patio that was the perfect place to sit and eat (and drink) and watch the water on a day like today.
The sign showed the rock that Hastings Rock was famous for, and although a rock doesn’t sound very exciting for a sign or a logo or what have you, it was actually pretty cute.
Inside, they’d gone with an industrial chic look: a high ceiling with exposed ductwork and girders, all painted black; brushed-nickel pendant lights; accent panels of distressed metal; and floor-to-ceiling windows.
Part of that was to take advantage of the spectacular view, but some of the windows looked in on the brewery itself, with stacks of stainless-steel tanks on display.
Our waitress had long, dark hair, almond-shaped eyes, and skin just a hair lighter than Deputy Bobby’s. She smiled as she came toward us.
“Where’ve you been, stranger?” She kissed his cheek, and I had the rare and exquisite pleasure of seeing Deputy Bobby blush. “Mom and Dad are going to be so mad they missed you.”
“Hi, Ella.” Deputy Bobby actually fussed with his silverware; it was adorable. “This is Dash.”
Ella gave me a smile. “Deputy Mai told us all about you.”
“He did?”
“It’s nice to meet you! Is this a dine-and-dash, or are you off-duty?”
“Still on the clock,” Deputy Bobby said.
“All right. What’ll you have?”
Deputy Bobby ordered a salad, and after watching me waffle between the burger that had onion rings on it, the french fries that had bacon on them, and the buffalo chicken wrap that could, according to the menu, melt your mouth off your face, he took my menu away and said, “He’ll have the meat-lovers pizza. ”
Ella left with another smile and a promise to bring us our drinks—no beer, not while Deputy Bobby and his loyal companion, Junior Deputy Dash, were on duty.
I said, “Rude.”
Deputy Bobby looked at me.
“What if I don’t like pizza?”
Somehow, he made the look even more pointed.
It was hard not to laugh, but I managed to say, “And meat-lovers? Someone could take that the wrong way. That could be an offensive joke about my sexual orientation.”
“It’s a little less offensive when I’m gay too,” Deputy Bobby said. “And just for your information, I know about the meat bracket you and Keme have running.”
“Okay, but—wait, you know? Keme told you?”
“He couldn’t wait.”
“That little turd! No. No, no, no. I’m not going to be embarrassed.
A meat bracket is a perfectly reasonable system for determining the indisputably best meat on the planet.
It has all the advantages of a bracket system, plus you add in eating delicious meats, plus it gives Indira a new challenge—you know she gets bored. ”
“Do you hear how much worse it sounds when you explain it out loud?”
Fortunately, Ella came back with our drinks.
When she left, Deputy Bobby said, “You said meat, like, seven times.”
I blew the wrapper from my straw at him, and one of those rare, goofy grins exploded across his face.
He caught the wrapper, by the way. Snatched it right out of the air. It’s stuff like that that makes it zero fun to be friends with Deputy Bobby.
On the big TVs mounted around the dining room, a baseball game was in progress. The clink of silverware mixed with the rise and fall of voices. Chairs scraped across the floor.
“So,” Deputy Bobby said, and his voice held a note I couldn’t identify. “Probably not what you imagined.”
“Well, I didn’t think I’d see you lift a cat by its heinie.”
He smiled, but it wasn’t the big one.
“It’s been great,” I said. “I definitely didn’t expect Mr. Cheek.”
Deputy Bobby groaned.
“And I’m very curious about Ella.”
“Trust me,” he said in a flat voice. “I noticed.”
I was about to giggle, but I managed to cover it by taking a drink of my Sprite.
In the wake of my words, Deputy Bobby opened his mouth, but he looked like he was struggling with what came next.
“I know it’s not…glamorous. I mean, it’s a small town.
And a lot of the time, it’s stuff like what you saw today.
I guess it looks silly. Or sad. Or like I’m—like I’m wasting my life.
I mean, maybe I am wasting my life, dealing with cat intruders and a cardboard cutout of The Rock and the Naught brothers pulling each other’s hair until they cry. ”
I stared at him. And I wanted to know who had said those things to him. Who had made him feel that way. I thought, maybe, I knew.
Those burnt-brass eyes flicked up to mine and away again, and he sounded like he was forcing lightness into his tone as he said, “Not what you want to write about, I guess. Sorry—I don’t know how this is going to help you with your books.”
“You’re doing something important,” I said. “Every day.”
He laughed. His gaze was locked on one of the TVs.
“You are. These people trust you. You treat them with respect and kindness. You help them with whatever they ask. You understand what they really need, even if they don’t know how to say it, and you do your best to give it to them.
That’s incredible. That’s—that’s what being a community is all about, and the reason we have it is because of you. ”
He settled back in his seat. His shoulders relaxed. After what felt like a long time, his eyes came to mine, and I still couldn’t read what I was seeing in them.
“Plus,” I said, “you keep us safe from invasive kittens.”
The goofy grin splashed across his face again, just for a moment. He ran his hands along the edge of the table. And then he said, “Thanks.”
“Thank you. In fact, I was hoping we could do this again.”
“You know,” Deputy Bobby said, back to one-hundred percent earnestness, “there’s a rule about that.”