Three
AS I HIGH-FIVE my way across the room, trying to get to where Tay and Burt Webb are standing, Roof and Lynyrd are suddenly in my way, both of them wearing flannel shirts, eyes red and full of trouble.
It doesn’t matter now that they’re crashing my party, or why they’ve decided to do it after I haven’t seen either one of them in years. All that matters is that they’re here, clearly trying to create a scene as I’m trying to avoid one.
Where are all my blockers when I really need them?
Roof and Lynyrd had been decent football players, at least when the only decision they had to make on the field was how hard to hit the guy carrying the ball. Good players, but not as good as they thought they were. Both linebackers, until they weren’t.
Probably still hitting people or doing worse than that, if you only believed even half of what you heard. And still dumber than a whole row of tobacco leaves. Local legend has it that neither one of them had gone on to college because they had joined the family business run by their father instead.
“How we lookin’, Star?” Roof says. “Probably get all the pussy you could want tonight, am I right?”
Both the Crocketts had always called me that. Star. It embarrassed me, even now, considering the source and that, given their weaving gait, they’re overserved already.
“Just trying to say hello to some folks,” I say.
Lynyrd says, “I saw ol’ Taylor McCarter when we came in.” He gives a quick look over his shoulder. “You ever tap that, Star?”
I smile at him. “You ever have anybody stick your elbow in your ear, Lynyrd?”
As I start to walk past, he puts an arm out.
I stare down at it, then back at him.
“Don’t haul off and do something you’ll regret,” I say to Lynyrd.
“Or one of us will, son,” he says.
The room has suddenly gone very quiet. Even the music has stopped.
I see Burt Webb and Taylor making their way toward us, a concerned look on Taylor’s face, when I hear a familiar voice from behind me and turn to see Briar Crockett himself standing there.
“Is there some kind of misunderstanding here, boys?” Briar asks his sons. “And I do believe I mean my boys.”
“Just payin’ our respects, Daddy,” Roof says.
“Well,” Briar says, “why don’t you go pay them to the bartender, and remember that the Crocketts are guests here.”
Not my guests.
Roof and Lynyrd reluctantly move away from me. The music comes back up. I hear the voice of Kris Kristofferson, another one of my father’s favorites, singing about taking every wrong direction on his lonely way back home.
“Sorry about that,” Briar Crockett says. “I truly am.”
Briar’s sons aren’t as big as I am, but he is. He puts out a hand now, and with all eyes on me, I’ve got no choice but to shake it.
When my father was still alive, he’d had little use for Briar Crockett, had been offended that Briar was the face of our town, for all the wrong reasons. And worst reasons.
As far as I know, the only honorable thing Briar had ever done was offer a reward of $100,000 for information about who had shot my father, but no one had ever cashed in. All this time later, I assume no one ever will, that the killer will never be caught.
But him putting up that reward money didn’t change the fact that Roof and Lynyrd’s father has been the most dangerous man in North Carolina for longer than I’ve been alive.
At the moment, he’s still got hold of my hand.
“I know that your daddy, God rest, and I had our share of differences,” he says, eyes on mine. “But I’m here tonight to tell you that where I come from, the same place as you come from, we sure are proud of you, boy.”
He waits for me to respond. I don’t. He lets go of my hand and nods, eyes still on mine, and walks away.
I finally make my way to Taylor and her husband.
“Having fun yet?” Taylor asks as she gives me a hug.
“Glad you guys could make it,” I say to her and Burt. “I guess.”
She nods in the direction of the street. “See where you got yourself a fancy new car.”
I give Burt a playful shrug. “You gotta compensate when you don’t get the girl.”
He smiles at me. “Wanna trade?”
“Hey, you two,” Taylor says. “I’m here. I can hear you.”
“You guys good?” I ask.
“We are,” Taylor says. “How’s about you?”
I make a gesture with my right hand, my throwing hand, that takes in the whole party.
“Like EmmaJean says,” I tell them. “If this ain’t good, it’ll have to do until good comes along.”
“You were always going places,” Taylor says, “even before you knew where.”
“I’ll be back, Tay.”
She gives me a look that is both sweet and sad, all at the same time.
“No,” she says. “You won’t.”