Chapter 9
Nine
Whew, well, that didn’t go exactly as Erielle thought it would. Not wanting to take over the kitchen had been harder than Erielle had expected, and friendliness didn’t come easily to her, or to Hattie. But they’d worked together, found a rhythm, and prepared meals for twelve families.
Erielle had asked Hattie about them, but Hattie wouldn’t divulge personal information, which was fair.
Hattie hadn’t asked questions, but Erielle was fine with that.
She could work in companionable silence with someone, which is what they did as they made meatloaf (Hattie’s recipe) and potatoes, which Hattie let Erielle embellish, but not too much, and green beans, which Hattie would not allow her to touch, even though Erielle grimaced at the amount of bacon fat in the dish.
But when she’d told Hattie she’d be back on Tuesday, Hattie hadn’t told her off, so…it went well, maybe?
Now she was heading to work. She checked the parking lot real quick to see if Samson’s truck was there. It wasn’t, but as she kicked aside the disappointment, she saw a flash of light in the swamp that disappeared the second she blinked.
She shook her head to clear herself of her fanciful thoughts as she dragged open the side door.
Not much business tonight. That was fine. Well, not fine. She needed the tips. But her nervous system could use the break.
Louis waved goodbye as she slipped behind the bar, and waited for her first customer, but everyone seemed content with the drinks they had and were shooting pool in the back. She leaned on the bar and pulled out her phone.
Okay, maybe she was a glutton for punishment looking up her ex’s social media posts, especially after she’d spent the day making meatloaf in a diner kitchen, but, well. She wanted to know what the no-good thief was up to.
She’d barely caught a glimpse of the snake with some cute blonde in exercise gear when the shouting started.
She set down her phone and looked up to see Charlie and Bobby Lee facing off against each other on the far side of the pool table, both of them holding the cues like they were ready to joust.
Louis had emphasized that she would be responsible for any broken cues on her watch, so she reached down, grabbed a bat and rounded the bar. She took a breath, and in her deepest kitchen voice, she shouted, “Cut it out, right now!”
They didn’t hear her—or at least didn’t acknowledge her, so she squared her shoulders and marched toward them, bat gripped at an angle in one hand. She didn’t want to use it, but she didn’t want them to think she wouldn’t, either.
“Hey! I said quit it! Take it outside!” She marched around the corner of the pool table and gripped Bobby Lee’s cue, trying to wrest it out of his hand, but he didn’t let go. She felt it twist beneath her palm as he rounded on her.
She’d never broken up a fight before, never been so close to a man with anger burning in his eyes and his nostrils flaring.
She released the cue automatically, but didn’t let herself step back, even though every instinct in her body was telling her to retreat, pool cues be damned. She didn’t even know what they cost.
But she also didn’t want men to think they could get away with fighting just because she was on duty. So she bared her teeth and treated him as she would have treated a recalcitrant cook in her kitchen.
“I said. Take it outside.”
He was pretty drunk. She could smell the hops oozing from his pores. She hadn’t over-served him, she was certain, but maybe she’d underestimated how drunk he was. His eyes were wild, and she had no doubt he would use violence against her, so she raised the bat, just a bit, in warning.
And then he stepped back, dropping the cue onto the table.
“I’m sorry, Erielle. You got it. We’ll take it easy.”
She watched him, suspicious at his sudden change in attitude. Behind him, Charlie also tossed down his cue and moved away from Bobby Lee.
Then she saw his gaze dart over her shoulder. She stepped back, putting her own back against the wall, and saw Samson behind her, arms folded over his chest as he glowered at the two men.
“Are you paid up?” he demanded of them.
Both of them scrambled for cash.
“Be sure to tip your bartender. Well,” Samson added.
“Aw, Sam?—”
“Well,” he repeated.
Both men, along with Dave, who hadn’t been in on the fight but hadn’t tried to stop it, either, tossed money on the pool table and headed for the door.
Erielle stepped forward to collect the money once they were gone, and she and Samson were the only people in the bar.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she said, though her pounding pulse and churning adrenaline said otherwise.
“You’re welcome,” he said.
She scowled. “This is my job. You don’t have to do my job for me.” She didn’t look at him as she walked past to close out their tabs and add to her tip jar.
“What did you think you were going to do? Hit them with the bat?” He sat across the bar and nodded toward the bat she’d set down.
Before it could fall out of her trembling hand.
She kept her hands below the bar so he couldn’t see how badly she was shaking.
“I was going to at least make them think I was going to hit them with the bat.” She hated the doubt that flickered across his face.
She hated even worse that he was probably right, that she probably could not have handled it on her own.
But she was not going to admit that.
Like she would never admit he’d been right all those years ago.
She remembered that night fairly clearly considering she’d been well on her way to drunk.
She and Susan had been at a party in a clearing near the swamp with two cute guys from Maillard, where Susan went to high school.
They’d told Susan’s parents and Erielle’s grandparents that they were going to a movie in town, and spending the night with Susan’s friend Julia, who was also going to the party.
It had all been quite a complicated lie, but worked out really well.
Erielle’s first party. Her first taste of freedom. And a cute boy who was very interested, if his kisses were anything to go by.
Her elation and excitement took a nosedive when Samson showed up with his girlfriend. Of course she and Susan hadn’t expected that twist, and worse, he saw them right away. To say that steam came out of his ears in his fury would have been an understatement.
He abandoned his girlfriend—Erielle couldn’t remember her name just now, but for a long time, it had been a hated name, one she and Susan rolled her eyes at every time he mentioned it.
He marched over to his sister, grabbed her arm in one hand, Erielle’s arm in the other, in front of everyone, in front of their dates, and dragged them through the crowd and out to his car, parked in the field.
He didn’t even look at Darcy—that was her name!
—as he put them in the car, not a hard task as drunk as they were.
He’d left Darcy there at the party and driven back to Phantom Bayou, straight to her grandparents’ house.
She remembered their surprise when the three teens had shown up, the fear in their eyes, then the disappointment as Samson told them where he’d found them.
He didn’t go into too much detail about the intimacy he had witnessed, but had said they were with boys, and while they had sobered up a bit on the drive home, they were still much too drunk for a couple of sixteen-year-old girls.
Once he’d explained the situation to her grandparents, he marched Susan out of the house to go tell their parents.
Oh, how she had hated him for putting those expressions on her grandparents’ faces, the way they looked at her like a stranger. And then they called her parents, who came to get her the next day.
That was the end of her days in Phantom Bayou.
She’d been back a handful of times since, of course, but no long summers of freedom.
She hadn’t even been able to talk to Susan in the weeks after she left, because both girls were punished.
And when they finally reconnected, Susan was distant, like she blamed Erielle for wanting to go to the party and getting her into all this trouble.
Okay, maybe Erielle had pushed a little hard, but so had Julia.
Erielle was sorry Susan had been punished, but her brother was the one who had ratted them out instead of being cool.
He could have just taken them to Julia’s house so they could spend the night, though that might have been a surprise to Julia’s parents.
Now Erielle realized he had done the right thing, but for years, she’d blamed him for the end of her summer adventures.
“Anyway, sorry I showed up late. It wouldn’t have gotten that out-of-hand if I’d been here sooner.”
“I told you, this isn’t your job. You don’t owe me anything.”
He didn’t respond, just lifted a finger from the bar toward the beer taps. She was grateful to have something to do, and turned to get it for him.
“You think they’re still out there?” she asked.
He walked to the door, shoved it open to peer out. “I don’t see them.”
“I hope they didn’t drive home.”
“I didn’t see any cars when I got here, so they probably walked. They live in town. What started the argument?”
“I don’t know, I wasn’t paying attention.”
He resumed his seat, eyebrows raised. “No? There was other stuff going on?”
She felt her face heat. “I was on my phone. It’s not like I’m getting paid by the hour.”
“Must have been interesting for you to miss the start of a fight.”
She certainly didn’t want to talk to him about what she’d been looking at. He might know about her past, but he didn’t need to know she still cared.
“Just checking in on some friends.”
“Do you keep up with people from your old life?”
“I mean, it isn’t my old life. It’s only been a few weeks.” And what would be weird about that if she did? But she didn’t. Was that more strange? Maybe it was. So she just wouldn’t answer. “What about you? Do you keep in contact with people from your old job?”
He took a sip of his draft. “I’m only on sabbatical, not starting over.”
She folded her arms on the bar. “How much longer?”
“Not much.” He set the glass down, sliding it away from him a bit, like it was a temptation. “Dad’s getting stronger. I’m not even staying at the house anymore, staying at the cabin instead. Me being there irritated him more than anything.”
“I can relate,” she said dryly, and when his gaze shot to hers, she offered him a wry smile, the best he was going to get.
“How’s the stove holding up?”
“It’s serving its purpose. It’s the rest of the house that’s a disaster. I feel like the neglect extends to before Grandpa’s stay in the home.”
“Well, you can imagine how hard it was to keep the house up at their age.”
“I would have thought they’d hire someone to come in and help.”
“I would have thought, too, but maybe they didn’t have the money, or couldn’t find anyone, because they didn’t.”
“So your mom said.” And the account was mostly empty now, so that could well be the issue. But she wasn’t going to admit as much to him.
“I can come take a look, see if there’s anything I can help with.”
She was already shaking her head before he finished the thought. “No. No thank you. I can take care of it.” At some point. When she had some disposable income. Even if it meant the roof caved in, she wouldn’t accept help from Samson.
After a few minutes of silence, like he expected her to come to her senses, he slid off the barstool and craned his head toward the tables. “You know how to play?”
“Not well enough to bet you, if that’s what you’re wanting.”
“No, just want to play. Move around a little. Come on.”
She glanced toward the door, willing someone to come through and save her, but no one did, so she followed him to the pool table.