5. Poker
POKER
The sun had risen only an hour or so before Jake got to the beach on Tuesday morning.
He was rarely up so early, let alone fully dressed and outside, but he wanted to get there before anyone else went and crowded it.
He didn’t need others to witness his humiliation in picking up soggy trash from the shoreline.
Much to his delight, there were absolutely no cars parked in the beach’s parking lot, and he continued down to the water with an unusual spring in his step.
The sand, which stretched endlessly in both directions, glittered silvery gray in the sunlight.
Little bits of pink and black and gold glinted occasionally. It looked perfect—no trash in sight.
This was going to be easy. He was going to work until it got too hot, then head home and have lunch with Isabel. It couldn’t get much better than this, considering the circumstances under which he was here.
And then he saw a man standing at the water’s edge, the waves licking at his sandaled feet as he gazed out at the horizon. Jake knew that face too well by now, even when it was looking away from him.
“Fuck me,” he muttered, ready to turn around and head back.
It was too late. Robbie had sensed him and turned around, his own face dropping when he recognized Jake.
“Community service?” he asked, a knowing glint in his eye. He was so pleased with himself for predicting the future, even if it was a future neither of them wanted.
“Yep,” Jake said curtly. He took a few steps forward so he wouldn’t have to talk so loudly over the water. “I thought if I got here this early, I’d be alone.”
“You’re never alone here,” Robbie said, gesturing toward the water. “Mier is always present.”
Jake rolled his eyes. “You guys and your water worship. But whatever. I meant that I wouldn’t be around other people.”
“And I ruined that for you.”
“Yeah, you did. Happy now?”
“No, I’m not. I was looking forward to some peace and quiet too. But, hey, I can make the most of having a little company. Besides, you need me to sign your hours off, don’t you?”
Jake squeezed his eyes shut. He’d forgotten about that teeny, tiny, monumentally important detail. “Shit.” He started to rub his face before he remembered the bruise and winced.
“You should know,” Robbie continued, “I volunteer at the beach almost every day, both in the mornings and evenings. I clean up trash and help keep the park grounds looking nice. It’s the least I can do since I tend to have more time than a lot of other people out here.”
“Every single day?”
“Yup. Unless it’s stormy or I have a previous engagement.”
“So I can’t just come find you at the bookstore or wherever and have you sign off on my hours?”
“It would hardly be worth it. We can try to avoid each other, Jake, but I’m not changing my schedule because of you. Now, did you bring a garbage bag and a poker?”
“A garbage bag and a what?”
Robbie cocked his head to the side, the light in his eyes dying out as disappointment clouded his expression. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You need something to put the trash in, Jake.”
“Well, how was I supposed to know that? It’s not like I got instructions before coming here.”
“Did you read the papers you got? Because all that’s spelled out pretty clearly.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.” Robbie huffed. “Here, come with me. I have some extra bags and a pair of gloves that should fit you well enough. Those’ll have to do for today. I certainly don’t envy your back, though, having to bend over and pick up trash by hand.”
He led Jake over to a large piece of driftwood, where he’d tucked his supplies while he was enjoying the sunrise.
He held out a white garbage bag, not even bothering to look at Jake as he snatched it from him and balled it up.
He handed over a pair of gloves next. They were a mix of stretchy fabric and soft tan leather, hardly used compared to the other dingier set that Robbie had left on the log.
“Bring your own gloves next time,” he said. “These are my spares that I keep for emergencies. And get some sort of poker or grabber. I’m not dealing with your complaining every single day because you’re too stubborn to make life easier on yourself.”
“I don’t need you to tell me how to do my job,” Jake said coolly.
“Oh, really? You mean to tell me you’ve done this before?” Robbie looked up, his eyes cold and calculating.
“No, but—”
“No, I didn’t think you were the volunteering type.”
“I’m not here to volunteer at a place I don’t care about.”
Robbie crossed his arms. “Tell me, then, Jake, why are you here? Because you act like you’re miserable, so it can’t possibly be on your own terms.”
“You already know why. My uncle died, and I’m staying to help my Aunt Isabel for a few months now that he’s gone.”
“Why you, though?”
“Because it was easier for me to do this than for anyone else in my family. I do care about people, Robbie, just not coldhearted strangers like you.” He took care to leave out all the other minute details that Robbie certainly didn’t need to hear about.
“And that’s all?” Robbie asked skeptically.
“Well, she needs to sell the house, and if she can’t get it looking decent before that, she’s gonna lose out on a lot of money—my sister’s and my inheritance. You of all people should know about that.”
“There it is.”
“There what is?”
“The real reason. The one that makes you look like a smug asshole who only cares about himself.”
Jake forced a laugh. “You’re one to talk when you’re a whiny little nepo baby.”
Robbie’s shoulders tensed. “I’m grateful for what I’ve been given in life. That’s more than you could ever admit.”
“You don’t know fuck-all about my life.”
“Fair enough. So stop making assumptions about mine.”
“With pleasure.” Jake turned on his heel, the soft sand shifting beneath his feet, and marched away. The shoreline was long, but not nearly long enough for him to get as far away from Robbie as he wanted to be.
When the man was merely a speck on the opposite side of the beach, Jake stopped, sighed, and looked up at the clear blue sky. Then he turned on the stopwatch on his phone and got to work.
Time slipped by faster than he expected, and by mid-morning, when the beach was filling up with all sorts of people, he was ready to clock out and leave.
He’d lost Robbie at some point, which was all well and good by him.
He wanted nothing to do with that prick, and the longer he could avoid him, the better.
Maybe, if he was lucky enough, Robbie had already left to open the bookstore, and he wouldn’t have to see him at all again today.
But, as if Mier itself had looked upon Jake and decided he needed to be put in his place once more that week, Robbie appeared from behind a stand of trees in the park.
“Fucking great,” Robbie said. “You’re still here? I thought you left an hour ago.”
“I was on the other side of the beach. I’ll be leaving as soon as you sign this paper.” Jake held out the folder he’d fetched from his car, the sheet Robbie needed to sign half-pulled out.
Robbie took the folder and a pen from Jake and scribbled his name on the line that read supervisor’s signature. He didn’t even bother to check that Jake had entered his hours correctly. “Good riddance.”
“Same to you.”
“You’ll be back tomorrow, I take it?”
“I have to be if I want to burn through these hours.”
Robbie shook his head. “I should’ve let the cops take you back to the station. They probably would’ve fined you and let you go in the morning.”
“I can’t afford a fine,” Jake said.
“I can.”
“Well, goody for you. I’m sure Daddy would bail you out in a second if anything ever happened.”
Robbie laughed, catching Jake by surprise.
“You don’t know my father at all. If I landed myself in jail, the last person I’d see is him.
But I was talking about your fine. I could’ve—you know what?
Forget it. You’ve finally had to face the consequences of your actions, and now you’re stuck with them. I bet that stings.”
Jake made to walk toward the parking lot, but Robbie matched his stride. “I don’t make it a habit of getting away with things,” Jake told him.
“Really? So you’re telling me you don’t fuck and run?”
“What?”
“The guys you try to meet everywhere you go. That’s not avoiding the consequences of a real relationship?”
“Not everyone wants a long-term relationship, asshole.”
Robbie smirked. “Nice, you’ve resorted to simple name-calling.”
“As if you haven’t,” Jake snorted.
“Only when you were a drunken fool.”
“It still counts. Asshole.”
Jake picked up his pace, leaving Robbie behind. He wasn’t proud of his childish insults, but somehow Robbie brought out the worst in him. He couldn’t even stand looking at him anymore. How he’d stomached kissing him when he was drunk, he couldn’t imagine. It must have been awful.
Except Jake didn’t remember it being awful at all. He remembered it being quite nice, at least in the dreamy haze of all the alcohol. If anything had ever been reason enough to never touch a drop of liquor again, that feeling right there was it.
Jake opened the front door of Isabel’s house and was instantly greeted by the smell of roast chicken. Isabel came from the hallway, a basket of laundry in her arms.
“Oh good, you’re back,” she said, passing the basket over to Jake, who dumped its contents on the couch. “Lunch is in the kitchen, and I’ve already started working on dinner.”
“Great, I’m starving.”
“You can eat as soon as you fold that laundry.”
“Aw, come on, Aunt Isabel. I’ll fold it after lunch.”
Isabel put her hands on her hips. “You can do it now; it won’t take more than a few minutes. Besides, it’s all yours anyway, aside from a few dishtowels.”
“Fine.”
“Are you going out tonight?” Isabel tried to keep the question casual as she rearranged some trinkets on the shelves, but Jake could hear the dread in her voice.
“No. I’m still worn out from this weekend, and my morning at the beach sure didn’t help.”
“Was it crowded?”
“Not until about an hour ago. But, uh, Robbie was there.”
Isabel nodded. “He likes to volunteer whenever he can.”