“Whisky, you have no idea what you’re getting into with me.”
His other hand came down to the couch and he leaned into me, so close his face was just an inch away. “Roxanne, listen closely. One look at you and I knew trouble was on your heels. I’m wil in’ to give it time for you to tel me. That doesn’t happen, I’m wil in’ to wade in when that trouble catches up. Right now, I’d be doin’ it for Tex and out of curiosity about you. After tonight, I reckon I’l be doing it for other reasons.”
Holy cow.
I didn’t know what to say, so I did the smart thing for once and didn’t say anything.
He went on. “I can understand you protecting yourself, but you have to know, you’ve no reason to protect me. I have my eyes wide open…”
I was beginning to find it hard to breathe.
“Hank—” I whispered, interrupting him but he kept going.
“And I like what they see.”
Yowza.
“I’m in trouble,” I said.
“I already know that.”
“I’m talking about you.”
“Good to know you’ve got your eyes open too.” He didn’t even let that sink in. He kissed my nose, moved away, grabbed his paper cup of coffee off the table and he was gone.
“Holy cow,” I breathed.
“Sugar bunch, you can say that again,” Daisy cal ed. She was sitting on the book counter, legs crossed and leafing through a copy of Us magazine. Though her hands were moving the pages, she was looking at the door that had just closed behind Hank.
“Holy cow,” I said again.
“We’re al fucked,” Duke’s gravel y voice said from somewhere in the books.
I had the feeling he wasn’t wrong.
*
Uncle Tex got off work and took me to a Middle Eastern restaurant on University Boulevard cal ed Jerusalem. We both ordered the combo platter, which arrived brimming over with rice, baba ghanoush, hummus, fattoush, tabbouleh, stuffed grape leaves, falafel, gyros meat, three kinds of kabobs and pita bread. “Holy cow. I’m never going to be able to eat this,” I said, staring at my plate.
“Then don’t eat, talk. What’s goin’ on with you?” I started eating.
“Roxanne Gisel e…”
“Jeez, Uncle Tex, you sound just like Mom.” His eyes flickered, pain slicing through them and I wished I’d kept my mouth shut.
“Okay, I’l talk,” I said, mainly to take his mind off whatever it was that was hurting him.
I told him about Bil y.
Halfway
through
the
story,
around
about
the
sledgehammer part, he boomed (pita bread and baba ghanoush flying out of his mouth). “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill that motherfucker!”
I looked around at our gawking neighbors.
“Uncle Tex, calm down,” I whispered.
He swal owed.
“Finish it!” he demanded, circling his fork at me.
I finished the story.
Then Tex said, “You don’t gotta be on the run from that asshole. One word to Lee and he’d fix his sorry ass and good.”
No way. No way in hel .
“No, Uncle Tex, no words to Lee, to Hank, to Eddie, to Indy, to anybody.”
“Lee’s one badass individual. Lee’d make Hitler shake in his sil y, shiny boots, even with the whole German army standin’ at his back.”
“No.”
“Roxie, darlin’, your plan is shit.”
“I’ve been working on this plan for years!”
“It’s stil shit.”
I scowled at him.
“Uncle Tex, I got myself into this mess. I’m getting myself out.”
He shook his head.
“Not gonna fuckin’ happen. I’m talkin’ to the boys,” he said like that was final.
I slammed my palm on the table to get his attention and Uncle Tex’s eyes locked on mine.
I took a deep breath and said, “I appreciate your concern and I need your help but I’m fixing this my way.”
“Roxie—”
“No!” I closed my eyes and tilted my head to the table.
Then I looked up again. “Uncle Tex, I have to look myself in the eye in the mirror every morning. After I fucked up seven years of my life, do you honestly think I can just hand over my problems to some guys I barely know and be able to wake up and look in those eyes?”
He stared at me.
Final y, he said, “Jesus Jones, but you’re a MacMil an.”
“Damn right I am,” I told him with more than a little bit of pride.
He stared at me some more.
“Fine,” was al he said.
I felt my body relax. “Thank you.”
“One thing, darlin’ girl. I get even the niggliest fuckin’
inklin’ that this shit plan o’ yours is goin’ south, and mark my words, it’s gonna go south, I’m cal in’ in the boys.” I felt my body get tense again.
“No,” I said.
“That includes Hank.”
“No!” I shouted, now ignoring our gawking neighbors.
“I should fuckin’ say that especial y fuckin’ includes Hank.”
“You do that, I leave,” I threatened.
“You leave, I’m siccin’ Lee on your ass. He’l send Vance or Mace to track you down. You won’t even make it to the Colorado border.”
Man, oh man, I was undoubtedly, seriously, official y in trouble.