Chapter 6
Honey’s was a bar Nick and his siblings had been frequenting for years. It was always busy, and tonight was no different as he made his way to the rear of the building, passing tables full of patrons.
Brick walls, polished concrete floors, and a big screen to watch a game on, it was a place that held good memories for Nick.
He raised his hand a few times, acknowledging those that knew him, and headed out the doors and into the garden bar, where his family would be beside one of the outdoor heaters.
On the second Friday of the month, this was where he and his siblings gathered.
No parents or partners, just Atherton sibling night.
“Three, Gracie. I shot three baskets to your one!”
Their voices reached him before he rounded the partition overgrowing with greenery to find them all leaning on a table. Moving to his youngest sister first, he wrapped his arms around her from behind, giving her a squeeze while rubbing his chin over her blonde head.
“Hey, big brother,” Emma Atherton said, turning to plant a loud kiss on his cheek.
“Hey, you.” Nick let her go, moving to the taller blonde to her right. “Gracie,” he said, doing the same with his chin.
“Nicky.” She patted the arm he had around her before continuing on with the conversation she was having with Thomas, the brother that sat between her and Em on the Atherton ladder.
He slapped hands and bumped chests with his brothers and then made for the space at the end of the table where a long-necked bottle of beer waited for him. Swallowing a mouthful, he studied his siblings.
They were a mixture. His sisters and Thomas were blond with brown eyes like their mother. Nick and Sam were dark with blue eyes like their father.
“What made you late, Nick?” Sam, the second eldest, asked.
“I met a friend today, and she had some trouble.”
“What friend?”
“What trouble?”
I should have stayed with Poppy in case she wakes scared.
“Nick!” Two fingers snapped in front of his face.
“What friend? What trouble?” Sam demanded.
Having a large family was the best, but sometimes you wanted to sit on something, mull it around a while, and talk about it when you were ready… or not.
“Spill,” Gracie said.
“Remember Poppy Sylvester?”
“The writer?” Em screwed up her face, which made her look about ten.
“Didn’t you go to college with her?”
Nodding, Nick pointed his bottle at Sam.
“Weren’t you two friends or something?” he added
“We were.”
“She left suddenly. I don’t remember why. Didn’t you guys fall out?”
“Yeah, I was a jerk,” Nick said.
“I remember those days. You thought you were the shit,” Gracie said.
“Thanks,” Nick drawled.
“How’d you meet her again today, and what kind of trouble?” Thomas asked.
As the lawyer in the family, he liked to get all the facts on the table straightaway.
“I went to her book signing.”
“Oh my God, Poppy Sylvester! It just clicked!” Gracie said. “I love her books.”
“I know and went to get one signed for you and Aunty Jean for her birthday,” he added to strengthen the reason he was there. Luckily, they bought it, because Gracie squealed.
“How’d Poppy look?” Sam asked.
Hot. Nick thought about the body beneath that dress, her lovely face, and the mass of blonde hair piled on top of her head.
“She’s good,” he said. “Anyone ordered yet?” he added. Food, to the average Atherton, was as vital as air for most people.
“Yeah, yeah.” Sam waved his hand about.
“What did Poppy Sylvester say when she saw you?” Em asked.
He sighed.
“It’s all coming back to me now.” Sam snapped his fingers.
“Oh goody,” Nick said.
“You and Poppy were sort of friends, and then suddenly you weren’t. You told me about her.”
“What’s a sort of friend?” Thomas asked.
“A friend sometimes, but only when you want something,” Sam added. “Nick was a butthead in college, remember?”
He glared at his brother. “Shouldn’t you be nice to me, seeing as I’m your blood?”
“Since when is that a thing?” Thomas said.
“Whatever, and Poppy doesn’t remember college.”
“You’re lying,” Em said. “Your shoulders are up to your ears, which is a sign you’re uncomfortable.”
“Okay, fine,” he snarled. “She remembered me and after she’s signed Gracie and Aunt Jean’s copies, she wrote in mine, ‘to the arrogant asshole I knew in college, Poppy Sylvester.’”
There was absolute silence after these words for about five seconds, which must be some kind of record, Nick guessed. Sam then let out a bark of laughter, and the others followed.
“Why were you such an asshole to her?” Em asked, recovering first. “I mean, you’re usually one of the good guys.”
“Love you too, baby sis,” Nick said.
“Everyone thought he was friends with her because she could help him pass his exams, and then one day she said she didn’t want to hang with him anymore.”
Nick glared at Sam, wishing he hadn’t told his brother everything and that his memory wasn’t as good as it was.
“I’m just telling the truth.” Sam held up his hands.
“Why did she stop talking to you?” Em asked.
“I don’t remember,” Nick lied. He was sure he knew exactly what happened, but it had taken him a while to work it out.
“You said she was in some kind of trouble?” Thomas asked.
“I invited her out for coffee after the book signing. She told me to get lost and then walked away,” he said, omitting the part about taking her laptop bag. “Someone attacked her on the street. Before I could reach her, he’d thrown her to the sidewalk.”
Em whistled while the others made several unflattering comments about the attacker.
“Is she all right?”
“Hurt her wrist, concussion, and shaken up. That’s where I’ve been, with her in the hospital.”
“You need to tell Billy in case any of her stuff turns up,” Gracie said.
“Already done. He visited her before I left.”
Thankfully, the server arrived at that moment, so there was a move toward food, which Nick hoped would put an end to the conversation about Poppy.
“So, they got her bag?” Em said, talking with her mouth full, which was an absolute no-no according to their mother.
Apparently, food was not enough of a deterrent.
“Yup. Anyone watch the Hawks game last night?” Nick said.
“Does she have friends and family looking after her now?” the most tenacious Atherton, Gracie, asked.
“No,” Nick said, only just refraining from pinching the bridge of his nose.
“You left her!”
“I will point out that we are not friends,” Nick gritted out, “but I stayed with her the entire time, in the ambulance and at the hospital. I brought her food and a drink, and then I even kissed her…. Shit!” Nick lowered his forehead to the table in front of him and kept it there.
He could feel the beer ring from his glass dampening his skin but didn’t care.
You never mentioned “kiss” and “woman” in the same breath when your sisters were around. Brothers, yes. They just slapped your back. Sisters, no. They got all bent out of shape if you were kissing and running or kissing and staying or just kissing and they didn’t know the woman.
“You kissed an injured woman?”
Lifting his head, Nick said, “It was a comfort kiss. Cut me some slack, Em, the woman is petrified of hospitals, and it should show how much seeing as she let me help her.”
“You gave a woman who wasn’t family a comfort kiss?” Gracie said.
“Shut up! All of you,” he added, sending a menacing look around the table that his younger siblings knew well. “Now I want to drink, eat, and hear all your news. I do not want to hear one more word about Poppy Sylvester. Is that understood?”
“Just one more question,” Em said. “Does she have family or friends who can take her home from the hospital? Because if not, who will? She can’t take a cab, surely?”
“I’ll take her home! Now shut up.”
Em sat back on her stool with a smug smile he had no idea how to interpret but knew it wasn’t good.
“Where are the books you got signed for me and Aunt Jean?” Gracie asked.
“I lost them somewhere. Possibly when I ran to help Poppy.”
“You are getting us more though, right?” Gracie said.
“Fine, I will try. All right?”
She nodded.
Thankfully, the others started talking, and everyone but him soon forgot Poppy.
Is she okay?
They laughed, joked, and talked seriously when serious talk was required, and Nick managed to enjoy the night even though Poppy was in the back of his head. At midnight, they called it quits.
“See you at home on Sunday. Twelve, right?” he said to his siblings when he reached his vehicle. “Is Gracie still picking up Aunt Jean on the way?”
“Yes, and seeing as you already got a gift, or will get a gift, we’ll leave you out of the money collection,” Gracie said. “But you get to man the grill, otherwise Dad will burn everything.”
Nick got in his pickup and started it. He then sat tapping the steering wheel for several seconds before putting it in Drive. Turning left instead of right, which would take him to his home, he headed to the hospital.