The Boy I Grew Up With
Page 30“Can…can…oomph. Can someone help, please?” She shot her hand up, sounding contrite.
And that Rebecca was back.
Gus moved to assist her.
He saw her boob, and zeroed in on it. “You, uh. You. Um.” He pointed at it. “Your lady part is out.”
“What?”
He grabbed her shirt and moved it around, covering her up. Then he reached for her arm. Both of them were unsteady. I didn’t want to worry about Gus breaking a hip, not yet. The guy had been the janitor at school for so many years. No matter how much booze he put in him, I hoped his bones would be sturdy till he was ninety.
“Okay. Here we go.” He was sweating now, wheezing. He moved her hands higher on his arm and grabbed under her biceps.
She let him.
“Okay, up you go. Whoopsie daisy.”
He lifted, and she tried to stand. After a bunch more oomphs, both were up.
Gus’s face was bright red.
Rebecca was sweating too, and she blinked several times. “We did it.” She patted him on the arm. “Good job, Dirk.”
“Oh, yeah!” He thought she was asking for a high five. “Hey there.” He grabbed her arm again, holding it suspended so he could slap it, and down she went.
Her heel went out.
So did he.
Channing must’ve had enough because he motioned for Brandon. As one, they each grabbed one of them under the armpits. Gus/Dirk and Rebecca/Daisy returned to their feet, and Brandon and Channing kept a steadying hand on both of them. When Rebecca paused to stare at the hand on her arm, Brandon cursed. Without a word spoken, he and Channing switched places.
Gus narrowed his eyes at Channing. “What were you saying your name was?”
Channing patted his chest. “Channing Monroe. Remember now?”
“No.” Channing shook his head, fighting back a grin. “Close, but no. My mother never worked at Kitty Titties. Wrong titties. We’re Tuesday Tits.”
“You guys have the Thursday Night Titinis. Five-dollar martinis.” Gus was back in the game. “I remember now. You run that place?”
“I do. Yes.”
“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I love the Friday Night Titquila Shots too.” Gus stepped away from the bar. He waited, making sure he wouldn’t fall back before straightening his shoulders. He thrust a hand out.
He started to fall.
Daisy/Rebecca grabbed him.
“Thank you, Daisy.”
She nodded, patting his hand. “No problem, Dirk.”
He turned back to Channing, leaning forward with a serious look on his face. “I want to shake the hand of the man who brought us Thursday Night Titinis. It’s the best idea for social adventurist capital if I ever saw one. And the martinis are top-notch too. Naming the place Tuesday Tits? Genius. Genius.”
Channing shook Gus’s hand, clapping him on the shoulder. “How about we go outside? We’ve got a whole new group of customers coming in lately, and we need to capitalize on them.”
Gus started to go with him, but faltered, looking at Rebecca. “I’d like to be so bold-like and ask for your phone number, if that’s okay with you?”
“Of course.”
That took another five minutes. They fumbled with their phones. Both forgot their code to get in, so they passed a napkin back and forth. Rebecca wrote her number on the front and pushed it over to him. “There you go. Now you.”
He flipped it over, wrote his number on the back, and slid it back to her. “There you go.”
“Excellent.” She beamed at him.
Neither picked up the napkin.
Gus nodded, stepped away from the bar and her steadying hand, and cleared his throat. “Milady, it was a pleasure to meet you.”
He managed a few jerking steps toward the door before Channing clasped him on the shoulder, holding him upright the rest of the way.
Gus looked up at him. “You’re thinking of another theme night?”
“Something like that.”
They were out the door, but we could hear one last Gus comment. “I’ve always thought End of Monogamy Mondays would be a good one.”
They disappeared, but a second later, Channing came back. He slid his eyes toward Brandon before saying, “Becs, guess who mentioned you the other night?”
Her eyes grew hooded, if that was possible. She chewed her lip. “You’re trying to toy with me, get me out of your girlfriend’s hair. I’m not falling for it, Channing. And I know you don’t want my input on your theme nights…”
“Congo asked about you.”
She stopped everything. Her eyes widened. “You’re lying.”
There was a hopeful twinge in her voice.
Channing shook his head. His eyes never left hers. “He said he missed you.” Then he dipped back out, disappearing from the doorway.
Air exploded out of her, and her mouth dropped open. “Are you kidding me? Don’t kid with me.” A tear formed in her eye. Her voice grew husky, trembling. “Matthew Shephardson’s been the love of my life, all of my life. I knew it. I just knew it. He was lying when he threatened that second order of protection.” Her head went higher. “It was a test. He was making sure I was fully committed.”
She stopped talking, gathering her purse to her chest. “I think it’s time I take myself to bed.”
I wasn’t sure who she was talking to, but I nodded anyway. “Good night, Rebecca.”
She threw a distracted smile at me and moved away from the bar in much the same way as Gus/Dirk had—just a few steps at first. When her legs didn’t give out, she started for the door.
“Okay, then. Goodbye, everyone. I’m off to find my love.”
I glanced out the window and saw a crowd forming. “Roy?”
He was stuffing a fry into his mouth at the counter. “Huh?”
Rebecca pushed the screen door open. Next she struggled with the step down. She forgot it was there.
Roy hurried past me. “Of course.” He went to her, touching her arm gently. “Can I help you, ma’am?”
“Oh, of course.” Her smile was blinding.
He dipped his head toward me, assisting her the rest of the way out. “Thank you, Miss Jax.”
I wasn’t done.
I turned back around. “Ava?”
“Hmmm?” Her head popped up.
I motioned toward Roy and Rebecca. They’d only gone one step. Rebecca kept thinking there was another step. There wasn’t.
“Roy, will you give Ava a ride home after your first patron?”
Ava smoothed her hands down her jeans, coming to my side. “Are you sure?”
I eyed her. “What happened to your boyfriend?”
“Oh.” Her eyes dropped. “He—uh…we broke up.”
I pressed my lips together, but she was better off. “You were supposed to be off work a long time ago.”
She lifted her head, her cheeks flushing. “The tips are good, and…” Her eyes darted to Roy.
“Go.” I patted her on the back. “You’re off shift. Ride all night with him, if you want, but you’re no longer working.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">