CHAPTER FIVE #2
I sigh out loud, trying to shake free from another endless spiral of thoughts leading nowhere but down. Liz is on her way home to dismantle her current life. Might as well start doing the same on my end.
My mother is as good a place to start as any.
I glance at the clock. It’s close to noon.
On a Monday. Right around when she’ll be showing up at The Raleigh, my father’s first bar and the only one my mother frequents for lunch because it’s the only place on earth that serves grilled cheese sandwiches like my father used to eat.
Prepared with three different types of cheese, guacamole, pretzels, and a fried egg in the middle.
I don’t know how many beers it took to come up with that concoction, but it’s been on the menu since before I was old enough to read.
The Earl-led Cheese. Named for the first cook who was willing to throw that abomination on a plate.
Not my father, whose name was Peter. No one wants to eat a Peter-ed sandwich.
Hence, come noon, that’s where my mother will be, having an Earl-led Cheese, and for a few bites, feeling like my father’s still around.
I should get there right around the time she’s being served. Whether that will end up working in my favor or not, remains to be seen.
In any event, I take the onramp and head for downtown. Less than twenty minutes later, I’m pulling into the parking lot, parking my truck in the very back under the maple trees lining the lot, and walking inside.
“Thought I might find you here,” I greet her, waving at Carl behind the bar as I pull out the stool beside my mother and join her.
“Oh?” As expected, she has a grilled cheese sandwich sitting in front of her. Untouched, steam still rolling off the crisp, golden crust. “I must admit, I’m a little surprised to see you out and about today.”
She’s been on me all week to take time off for the funeral. And not only from work. She wants me to step away from life, to be still long enough to grieve.
Grief and I don’t have that kind of relationship though. It’s more like me and Liz. We’ve been around each other long enough to know the ins and outs of how we function, but whenever possible, we prefer to ignore each other.
“I had to drive Liz to the airport,” I tell her, nodding a silent thanks at Carl for setting a chilled bottle of sparkling water down in front of me.
“Didn’t she just get into town yesterday morning?” Thank you, Liz. Already my mother finds someone else’s lack of coping skills and the resulting avoidance of emotions more appalling. Plus, I now have the perfect opening to start the conversation I came here to have. Two birds, meet stone.
“She did,” I confirm, pausing to take a sip of my water. “But after we met with Trent and Lena’s attorney yesterday, she had to hurry up and head back to Seattle.”
My mother, who took a bite while I was talking, chews it over thoughtfully. Her light brown eyes gain intensity the longer she looks at me without saying a word. Finally, she swallows. “What happened with the attorney?”
“A few things.” I pick at the water bottle’s label, looking away while I stall long enough to find my fucking balls and meet her eye to eye again. “As expected, Trent and Lena appointed Liz the kids’ guardian.” I clear my throat. “And they left me in charge of the business.”
“They what?” My mother’s sandwich hangs in midair, waiting for a bite that may never come now.
“Trent left me the horse business,” I rephrase what has already been said.
She places her grilled cheese back on the plate. “You’ll sell it?” She’s not really asking.
“I can’t,” I explain. “Not for at least a year.”
As expected, she’s less than thrilled. “You can’t be serious.” She pushes her plate away. I’ve ruined her lunch. The guilt pinches right between my gut and ribcage. “How do you expect to maintain the ranch and your responsibilities here?”
Here we go.
“Mom,” I start, lowering my voice in hopes she’ll naturally fall in with my volume.
“My responsibilities here will be covered.” I force a smile when her expression grows sterner in response.
“The Moonshine is running smoothly, we’ve got shows booked through the end of the year, and I’ll tell Kylie to hire someone to manage bookings moving forward. ”
My mother scoffs. “You can’t expect Kylie to handle finding someone.”
“Yes,” I argue, “I can. She’s been working at that bar since it opened. No one knows how that place operates better than she does.”
“You do,” she cuts in. “You know it better than she does.”
“Mom,” I groan. “Come on, that’s not fair.
” And wholly inaccurate. Kylie was my father’s last hire before he died.
She was nineteen when she started behind the bar at the Moonshine.
Been with us ever since. Her insight and experience managing the place were key factors in our decision to add the concert venue after all these years.
“Fine,” my mother concedes. “Kylie can hire someone for The Moonshine. What about this place? And The Bull? I was expecting you to come back and manage both once you were done in Nashville.”
“Mina can do it.” I brace myself as soon as I mention my sister’s name. “She’s been running The Penny Luck on her own for two years now. She can handle taking on more responsibilities.”
“Mina is supposed to be stepping away from this business, not digging herself in deeper,” my mother all but snarls.
“She got her degree like you asked,” I remind her.
“But she told you from the start, this was where she was going to end up.” Out of all of us, Mina is most like our father.
She thrives in this environment. The people.
The music. The constant chaos. Where I had no choice but to take this path, she’s been fighting tooth and nail for her chance to walk it since she was sixteen.
“Look,” I soften my tone, trying to appease her, “I can keep an eye on things from the ranch,” I promise.
“But you know as well as I do, Mina will find her way into the spot whether you like it or not. Until then, we have solid people in place to keep things running smoothly. Even without me hovering over everyone, signing off on their every move.”
Her face tightens. “I don’t feel good about this.” She glances around the bar. Business is steady on Mondays. Early happy hour, sports and decent food, keep the customers coming in and staying late. “Your father built all of this to make sure we were all taken care of.”
“And we are,” I remind her, biting down on the urge to tell her that I built it, too. My father laid the foundation, sure, but we owned three bars when he died. Now, there are seven. Which is why I'm confident when I say, “We are all taken care of, Mom.”
“What if something unexpected happens in the next year? What if the economy changes? Or the business shifts toward a new trend and we miss it? We’re successful now, but we’ve been vigilant.
We’ve kept expanding. Kept staying on top of the next wave of trendy liquors, the craziest drinks and the music scene both commercial and independent. One misstep and we could lose it all.”
We. I bite back a laugh every time she says it. I did all of that. It was me. And I will continue to do so for as long as necessary. “Trust me, I’m not going to let that happen.”
She pulls her plate back in front of her and starts tearing off a small piece of her sandwich.
The bread has lost its crunch, and the cold cheese inside has turned gummy.
“You better not.” She examines the piece in her hand then decides against eating it, dropping it back on the plate and brushing the crumbs from her fingertips.
“I know Trent was your best friend, but this is your family. Your loyalties belong here first.”
“I know that, Mom.” I run my fingers through my hair, tipping my head down and folding both hands over the back of my neck.
“I’ve spent the last fifteen years pouring everything I had into this business for that very reason.
Everyone is good now.” I lift my head again to look at her.
“Your retirement is covered. The house is paid for. And Sabine is moved out and settled in the dorms. Everyone is grown. You can stop worrying so much.”
“Sabine still has two years of college,” she counters.
“I know.” I’m the one paying her tuition. And her housing. “It’s covered, I promise.”
“What if she decides she wants her master’s after?”
“Then I’ll cover that too.” I’ve put three other siblings through college already.
I’m not about to drop the ball now. “Look, I came to you first because I hoped you would support me.” I pull myself up a little taller.
Sometimes height helps remind me I’m not still the same teenager who used to have these meetings with her.
“But I don’t need you to agree with what I’m doing.
You’re my mother, but you’re not my boss.
Dad left the bars to me. He trusted me to learn this business at fourteen.
To make the right decisions for it at nineteen.
Don’t you think you can trust me now, when I’m damn near thirty? ”
She sighs, and her eyes soften. “I do trust you, Jovi.”
“Then trust that I know what I’m doing.” I catch Carl’s eye and gesture for him to put an order in to replace my mother’s lunch. “I can do both. I can honor the promise I made Dad, and Trent's wishes.”
She nods, at last surrendering to the inevitable. “Have you told Casey?”
“Not yet.” I sip my water. I’m not thirsty, but my mouth continues to dry up at every twist and turn of this conversation. “But I will.”
“And Liz is moving back to raise the kids?” I can practically hear the wheels turning in her brain as she starts to piece things together. “Where will they be staying?’
“At the ranch.”
“And you?”
Water hits the back of my throat when I try to answer. “Same.”
I cough, trying to clear it.
My mother watches on in silence, one hand moving up to pat my back. Her stern expression is gone. Instead, she’s smirking. “Well, that should be interesting.”