“Yeah, it is,” Cheryl said readily and looked him straight in the eye. “You ain’t gonna like hearin’ this but I gotta say it and I’ll only say it once, yeah?”
Colt figured she was right; he wouldn’t like hearing what she had to say. He’d discovered that when Cheryl wasn’t guarded, and even when she was, she was a straight talker. She was usually pretty cautious with this around Feb, Colt, Morrie, Dee, Ruthie, Jack, Jackie and Darryl, mostly because she liked them all and never guarded against showing that. But she didn’t hesitate unleashing her straight talk on customers. Feb said it was a good trait to have working at a bar but then again, Feb took one look at Cheryl, who’d come into the bar with her son Ethan, and a half second later Feb planted Cheryl firmly under her wing just as Colt suspected she would. Colt figured Cheryl could do just about anything and Feb would accept it.
“Yeah?” Colt prompted, wanting to get it over with, whatever it was.
“He was a crazy, fucked up mess and he did awful shit but, in a way, he led me out of a trap I couldn’t find my way out of and probably never would. I ain’t grateful to him, I’m grateful to you, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s what brought me here.”
“You brought yourself here,” Colt told her, not giving Denny an inch, no credit, not for any of the good shit that he’d been the undeniable catalyst for kicking off. That sick ass didn’t deserve any and Colt was firmly of the belief that eventually, somehow, for everyone, even Cheryl, it would have all found its way to good without Denny. “You could have made a different decision.”
She just looked at him and remarked, “Not real good at acceptin’ gratitude, are you, Colt?”
Colt gave it back to her straight. “Not real good at talkin’ about Denny Lowe.”
She nodded in understanding. “Like I said, just this once, no more.”
Before Colt could say anything else, Jackie opened the door.
“Get in here quick,” Jackie said, pushing open the screen. “They’re asleep, miracle I got them both down. We time it right, Colt and I can be done and back before they wake up.”
“It’s cool, Jackie, Ethan was a handful, got up to more than three kids. I can handle it,” Cheryl told her, pushing in.
Jackie gave Colt a look that spoke volumes about Ned’s now motherless children and she showed Cheryl around the house, giving instructions as they went. They put their heads into the kids’ room and as all this was happening Colt waited in the living room. When they came back, Jackie and Colt said good-bye to Cheryl and Colt led Jackie to his truck.
When they were on their way, Jackie took in a breath and asked, “You talk to Susie?”
Colt didn’t want to think about Susie. Darryl, Phy, Marty and Joe-Bob’s kids had all handled what happened remarkably well, throwing no blame, which was good since only blame could be settled was on a dead man so it was a waste of emotion. Melanie had been a wreck which wasn’t a surprise. She was in counseling and Colt checked on her a couple of times a week, mostly because Feb nagged him to do so, though if she hadn’t, he still would have done it just maybe not as often. Melanie had been off work for awhile but had finally gone back. She was pulling herself together, she was doing it slowly, which was her way, but at least she was doing it.
Susie, being Susie, hadn’t handled it so well.
“I talked to her.”
“She the one who gave it to that kid from The Star?” Jackie asked.
“Yeah,” Colt answered.
Jackie sighed then said softly, “People work things out in different ways.”
Jackie was wrong or, more likely, she was being generous. Susie wasn’t working anything out. Susie was, as usual, being a bitch.
The only thing that surprised him was the stories printed in The Star laid out the truth about Feb and Colt as far as Susie knew it but there was nothing ugly, nothing mean. Colt figured the way Feb had a lock on the unconscious Susie, clearly in shock, so much, after they took down Denny, they had a job of getting Feb to let her go, Susie absorbed something good from Feb. It was a fanciful notion but since Susie didn’t have many not ugly, not mean bones in her body that was the only way he could figure it.
Jackie changed the subject and remarked, “Don’t know why you aren’t takin’ Jack or Morrie.” She looked from the road to Colt and said, “You know I like me a bike, honey, but pickin’ a Harley is man’s work.”
“We aren’t lookin’ at bikes, Jackie,” Colt told her then pulled into a spot on the street in front of Reinhart’s Jewelry Store, stopped and turned off his truck.
She looked out her window to the store then she looked at Colt then back at the store.
He knew she’d cottoned onto the situation when she dropped her forehead to the window and whispered, “You shoulda brought Cheryl. My fingers are bigger than Feb’s.”
“Your taste’s the exact same, though.”
It was a lie. Jackie’s taste was nothing like Feb’s. She knew it and he knew it. Colt just wanted her there. He knew she knew that too and it took a beat but he heard the hitch in her throat that meant tears and he put his hand to her back.
“Jackie, look at me.”
She took her time but she turned to look at him, tears in her eyes but a shaky smile on her face.
“You know, I was honored, dancin’ the mother’s dance with you at your and Melanie’s wedding,” she whispered.
“Yeah, you told me then.”
He could barely hear her when she said, “I’ll like this one better.”
Colt didn’t say a word before she turned and was out the door and heading to the store.
This was partly because she moved fast.
This was mostly because he couldn’t speak around the lump in his throat.
*
“All right, you got us both, what’s this about, son?” Jack asked when Morrie closed the office door at J&J’s.
Jack was in the desk chair. Morrie had his shoulders to the door. Colt had his shoulders to the wall.
Colt didn’t mince words. “Just got back from Jackie helpin’ me pick out Feb’s engagement ring.”