Chapter 22 #3
I peek through the kitchen window and see the boys sizing each other up like they’re about to turn the bar into a boxing ring. I grip a slice of garlic bread, ready to fling it like a Frisbee and break it up.
“Steady on, boys,” Des says. “I don’t think a dustup’s gonna solve your lady troubles. Might start a few more, in fact.”
Davis and Jake turn away from each other like sulky teenagers, and I thank the stars Des O’Malley knows how to manage hot tempers. I watched him break up more fights than he started back in the day, which is saying something.
“You should’ve told Cece you wanna be with her,” Jake says, quieter now. “That’s one thing I’ve got. Ada knows how I feel. I’m not gonna die wondering ‘what if.’”
Davis scoffs. “Anyone can say ‘I love you.’ Words don’t mean shit.”
“They’re not everything, but they’re not nothing. You can’t expect Cece to read your mind. Especially with all this other shit going on. You should have told her.”
“Like you told Ada about meeting up with Jenny Wallis? Jenny Wallis, who wrecked Ada’s life and dumped mice in Cece’s bar?”
Jake’s lip curls. “Fuck off, dickhead. Cece’s not here to see you play emotional support wombat.”
“That’s enough!” I snap, sticking my head through the window. “You don’t get to mouth off, Golden Boots. Same goes for you, Davis Sanderson. The pair of you are gonna keep things civil, or I’ll take you outside and tan you both.”
The smirk slides right off Jake’s face.
“Sorry,” he says to Davis. “Didn’t mean to start shit.”
“It’s fine.” Davis flicks the side of his whiskey glass, making it ring. “You’re not the fuckin’ problem, those are.”
He points at the massive floral arrangement clogging up the end of the bar.
Des whistles. “Which one of you blokes sent those?”
“Not me,” Jake says. “Guessing they’re not yours, Davo?”
“No,” Davis says through gritted teeth. “They’re from some prick Cece knows from back home.”
“Hang on,” Jake says. “Not Will Sharpe?”
Davis’s gaze snaps toward him. “You know Will Sharpe?”
“Yeah. Total fuckwit.”
“How many fuckwits are you friends with, exactly?”
Jake makes a face. “Too many, it turns out.”
“Have you tried not being friends with a bunch of fuckwits?”
“Valid question,” Des mutters into his drink.
Jake scowls. “What d’you think I’m doing here, talking to you?”
“Another valid question.” Des smiles at Jake. “Clearing ya head and talkin’ it out, eh, Jakey?”
“Only ’cos Ada doesn’t want a bar of him,” Davis shoots back. “And she doesn’t want a bar of him because he fucked her over just to keep everyone in Pukekohe kissing his ass.”
Jake downs the last of his whiskey. “You know fuck-all about me.”
Davis folds his arms across his chest. “Go on then. Enlighten me. Why do a bunch of fuckwits mean more to you than Ada?”
“They don’t. But back in the day, they were all I had.”
“Yeah? They gas you up after every try? Make you feel like a big man?”
“Pretty much.” Jake’s smile is as bitter as lemon peel. “Only you’re missing the bit where my mum’s dead and my dad’s fucked off, and rugby’s the only reason I’ve got any mates. The only reason I’m worth anything to anyone.”
“Shit,” Davis mutters.
“It was shit,” Jake says quietly. “I just wanted to be normal. Have people. And when I was good at rugby, I had people. My old mates, all the guys I hung out with back then, I know they’re not much, but they were there for me once.”
“And now?”
“Now I see them for what they are,” Jake says flatly.
“They’re not all good people. Some of them are cunts.
But they were good to me back in the day.
And not just when I was scoring tries. They made me laugh.
Gave me rides. Let me crash at their places.
Said ‘hi’ to my Nan at games. It doesn’t change the shitty things they did, but it’s hard to untangle that from all the good stuff. ”
“Like, how half of them abused Ada?”
Jesus, Davis must have fallen out of the bravery tree and hit every branch on the way down today. Then again, he cares about Ada. Not the way he cares about Cece, but he does care for her.
Jake doesn’t even flinch. “I had no idea how fucked up things were for Ada back then. Not ’til she told me yesterday. But I can’t change what I didn’t know. Still, if you wanna call me a pussy and a bootlicker, go right ahead.”
For a second, I think Davis is going to do just that, then he grins. “Sounds like Ada beat me to it.”
“Yup,” Jake says. “Came at me with both barrels.”
“Not surprising,” Davis mutters, but it’s the way Des says ‘Geez’ that gets my goat.
“We all know Ada’s a live one,” I say, sticking my head through the kitchen window. “But you like that about her, don’t you, Jake? How strong she is?”
He looks right at me, his grey eyes dark as storm clouds. “Of course.”
I smile. “Well, fire’s nice to look at, but it’ll still burn the shit out of you if you don’t handle it right.”
“I know,” Jake says hollowly.
“Still, it’s better than sitting in the cold. And it’ll keep all the baddies from your camp. I’d say it’s worth loving a bit of fire, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“You love her, doncha, mate?” Des says wistfully. “True love and all that?”
Jake laughs humourlessly. “Only from the moment I first saw her.”
“Atta boy.” Des claps him on the shoulder. “Best way to have it happen.”
Something twists in my chest. I haven’t wanted a bar of Des since the mess with Gwen, but the man’s been persistent since his divorce.
Drinks here most weekends, nothing too hard, just nursing a couple, before he walks me to my car at the end of my shift.
Never pushes for a date or anything, just asks if I want a bite to eat, and always takes no for an answer.
It’s hard not to think he might deserve a second look.
Especially when I saw him squatting in the walk-in. The way his jeans fit his backside was no joke. He got up easy, too, which means he’s still got good knees. Limber…
Jake lets out the longest groan in the world. “Fuck me, if I could just go back. I’d lay it all on the line the day Ada showed up at school. No one would’ve ever got near her. Especially not Jenny.”
I think about telling him it’s too late for that, but Jake’s face says he already knows it, so I return to the grill and toss the mountain of golden loaves onto a platter. No frills, no garnish. Just butter, salt and carbs for the broken-hearted.
I park the plate in front of the boys, and re-take my seat in the booth.
Jake and Des both grab rolls, but Davis simply stares at the All Black. “Sorry.”
Jake, mouth full of bread, looks confused. “What?”
“Sorry. For shit-talking you about your old mates. I had no idea what I was on about. But for what it’s worth, my dad’s a piece of shit, too. Hung around just long enough to bleed my mum dry, then fucked off to do it to some other woman.”
Jake and Des look into the distance, the synchronised sympathy dance of men who hate talking to each other about anything other than what a useless prick their boss is.
“I never wanted to be like my old man,” Davis says. “Never had a real girlfriend. Never wanted one. Then I saw Cece.”
The crack in his voice makes Jake and Des wince. I want to say something, but I know better than to interrupt a man on the edge of self-awareness.
“I never had a problem with girls,” Davis says with a trace of defensiveness. “But fuck me, I have no idea what to do with Cece. I’m head over fucking heels, and she’s treating me like some kid.”
“She doesn’t see you as a kid,” Jake says. “That’s fuckin’ obvious.”
“Not to me.” Davis rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “I thought if I showed her I could handle the bar, she’d see I could handle her. Didn’t realise it’d come off looking like a controlling dick.”
“It’s not over,” Jake says quietly. “Cee didn’t give you your marching orders like Ada did with me.”
“I never had enough of a chance to get marching orders,” Davis mutters. “That’s the worst part. I finally meet someone who makes me want to try, and she hates the way I do it.”
Jake sighs. “Welcome to the club, mate. Drinks are cheap. Benefits are zero.”
“Seems about right.”
“Well, that’d be the first thing I’ve got right in a while,” Jake says. “Look… Since we’re doing apologies… Sorry for being a dick about Cece. Like I know fuck-all about women.”
“S’fine. Shouldn’t have wound you up. I’ve always hated guys who do that.”
The two of them eye each other, then relax like two pitbulls agreeing to share a backyard.
“Can I ask you something?” Davis says to Jake. “Why’d you go see Jenny Wallis? Why risk it?”
“Didn’t seem like a risk. I just didn’t think how it’d look, having coffee with Jen. Taking that fuckin’ photo.”
I give a small sniff.
“I know, Aggie, but I was fuckin’ stupid. Jenny was on the warpath about Ada’s Instagram and the reunion, and I thought having a coffee would help keep a lid on things. Had no idea she’s a full-tilt bunny-boiler.” He grimaces. “No offence.”
“Don’t you defend that slapper on account of my womanhood. I’m more pissed off that a man with your life experience couldn’t open his eyes and see what a woman like that’s capable of.”
“And maybe not pretend you don’t know what it means when a chick who sends nudes wants to have a coffee,” Davis adds.
Jake’s jaw clenches, and when he gets to his feet, I’m worried he’s about to slug Davis good and proper, but instead he reaches into his pocket. “You know what I had on me the whole time I was at that cafe with Jenny?”
He pulls out a small velvet box, snaps it open, and I catch a flash of glittering red before he turns the ring to Davis. “See?”
Davis’s mouth falls open, and Des lets out a low whistle.
I slap my palm on the table. “Don’t be shy, Golden Boots. Give us a look.”
Jake tilts the box towards me. A massive ruby winks out of it, blood-red and surrounded by a halo of icy diamonds.
I smile. “Elongated cushion cut. Three carats at least. Is it conflict-free?”
Jake looks offended. “Of course.”
“White gold?”
“Platinum.”
“Hmm. Pigeon’s blood, yeah? What region?”