His back was to the weight bench, feet to the floor, he cocked his elbows, taking the weights down then, on an exhale through his teeth, Layne pushed them up.
Tripp came out of his room and Layne’s head turned to the side. He saw his son scratching his ass and shuffling to the bathroom.
“Hey Dad,” he mumbled.
Layne cocked his elbows, “Hey Tripp,” then he pressed the weights up.
He heard the bathroom door close.
*
Showered, shaved, Layne stood at the island watching Tripp sitting opposite him eating his fourth donut, his eyes across the room on the TV. Blondie, Layne knew even though he couldn’t see her, was lying at the foot of Tripp’s stool licking up powdered sugar residue that fell from Tripp’s donut onto the floor.
Layne held his cell to his ear and heard for the third time that morning, “You’ve reached Rocky’s voicemail… leave me a message.”
He flipped his phone shut and muttered, “Fuck.”
Tripp’s eyes came to him. “What?”
“Nothin’, Pal.”
Layne looked at the clock over the microwave. It was ten after ten. They were supposed to be at her old place at ten. She was supposed to be at his house at twenty to ten. She had the boxes in the back of her Merc, they were taking the Suburban.
She didn’t show.
Layne tagged his keys off the counter and told Tripp, “I gotta get to Rocky’s. We gotta do something at her old place. I don’t know how long it’ll take but I’ll be home by the Colts game.”
Tripp was still looking at him and asked, “Where’s Melody?”
Layne had started to turn to leave, he stopped, looked his son in the eye and answered, “She’s gone, Tripp.”
Tripp kept looking at him. Then he asked, “Gone gone?”
“Gone gone,” Layne confirmed.
Tripp nodded and murmured, “I liked her.”
“I did too, Pal.”
Tripp nodded again, swallowed and looked at the TV. Then he whispered, “Like Rocky better.”
“Tripp –” he started to warn.
Tripp’s eyes came fast to him. “I know what it is but you two fit.”
Layne stared at his son, thrown. “We fit?”
“She does what she believes in too,” Tripp explained.
“What?” Layne asked softly.
“All the work you do for people. Dina Kempler’s Dad, he was a jerk, her Mom couldn’t get rid of him, jackin’ her around all the time even though they’re divorced and you helped. She told me. She told me her Mom found out about you because you helped her Mom’s friend too. You’re practically famous at my school. You don’t think kids talk?”
He knew kids talked he just didn’t know Dina Kempler’s Mom Kim would talk to her daughter about that.
“Tripp, don’t –”
“Mrs. As… I mean Rocky, she spends a whole week making kids listen to rock music. She says lyrics are poetry. She says some of the greatest storytellers are rock stars. They tried to get her to stop but she fought and she won and they still listen to music. It’s not the same but it is. You know? You fit. Melody sells clothes. Her clothes are sweet and she’s nice but you and Melody, you don’t fit.”
Layne studied his son knowing his boy was sharp but thinking he’d vastly underestimated him.
But he couldn’t have this conversation now. Not that he ever wanted to have it but he couldn’t have it now.
“I gotta get to Rocky, Pal,” Layne said quietly.
After he said those words, Tripp eyes stayed locked to his.
Then he grinned. “Tell her I said hi.”
Yes, he’d vastly underestimated Tripp.
Layne grinned back and headed to the garage.
He was about to pull out when Jasper came tearing through the garage door wearing a wife beater and sweatpants that had been cut off at the knees, what he wore to bed. His hair was a mess, sleep still in his eyes but his manner seemed urgent.
“Dad!” he shouted and Layne put the truck in neutral and set the parking brake.
Jasper raced to the passenger side door, climbed up and settled in, slamming the door.
“God! Glad I caught you. I heard the door go up and –”
“Jas, I need to get to Rocky’s.”
Jasper nodded then said, “You were busy with work yesterday and I didn’t know how important this was so I didn’t want to bug you but I thought you’d wanna know.”
Layne felt his neck muscles contract. “Know what?”
“Know that before Tripp and I took off for the game, some guy came over. He was over for, like, one second but Stew gave him one of those yellow envelopes, the ones with thick paper, but it was small, like a normal envelope and it was stuffed full. The flap was folded in so I couldn’t see what was in it but it was stuffed full, Dad.”
Shit.
“You get a good look at this guy?”
Jasper nodded again. “You said, if I got a bad vibe, I should tell you and this guy, he was Mr. Bad Vibe.”
Fucking shit.
Jasper went on. “Tall, big pot belly, black hair, white dude. He was wearing sunglasses and it was dark, Dad. And he was wearing a lot of gold. Necklaces. A couple of rings. And he had piercings, the top of his left ear, both earlobes and the left side of his bottom lip.”
“You ever see him before?” Layne asked.
“Nope,” Jasper answered.
“Never, not anywhere?” Layne pushed.
“No, Dad.”
Layne nodded. “Good work, Bud.”
Layne could swear he saw Jasper’s chest expand.
Then Jasper asked, “Do you know him?”
Yeah, Layne knew him. He also knew that Stew bet the dogs and obviously wasn’t any good at it.
“Yeah,” Layne answered.
“Am I right? Is he Mr. Bad Vibe?”
Jas was right. Carlito was Mr. Bad Vibe and it wasn’t a good sign a loan shark was showing up at the house to make collections.
“You see this guy again, Jasper, you’re invisible, so’s your brother.”
“What about Mom?”
“Was your Mom there?”
“No, she was still at work.”
“You tell me if he ever shows and your mother is there, yeah? In fact, you tell me if you ever see him again at all, I don’t care where you are.”
Jasper nodded. Then he asked, “Will you…” he paused, “will you take care of it?”
Layne nodded. “Yeah, Jas. I’ll take care of it.”