Sweet Dreams Page 34
“Laurie,” Jim-Billy said quietly and put his hand on mine on the bar.
“Don’t you think about Neeta, Lauren,” Krystal ordered and I looked at her.
“Why would you say that?” I asked.
“People talk, don’t listen,” she replied.
“That’s history,” Bubba said, “way back, not worth thinkin’ about.”
“It wasn’t history two weeks ago when I was swimming in Ned and Betty’s pool and I watched Tate carry her into a room,” I returned.
I watched as Bubba closed his eyes and he did this slow. Then I felt a lump form to block my throat.
“Lauren,” Krystal said and her voice was full on soft now so I looked at her.
She looked sad and hard as nails Krystal looking at me like that said it all.
“Right,” I whispered around the lump, my word sounded strangled and I walked away.
* * * * *
It was closing that same night and Jim-Billy and I were getting ready to walk to the hotel when I went to get my purse.
I pulled it out of the filing cabinet, turned to the office door and saw Krystal there.
I walked toward her saying, “Good night,” but I had to stop because, when I arrived at the door, she didn’t move out of my way.
I looked into her eyes.
Then she shocked me by lifting a hand and brushing the hair off one of my shoulders.
“Told you not to get an eye for Tate,” she whispered.
“He got an eye for me,” I whispered back.
“Same thing, honey.”
I looked away and bit my lip.
“There’s nothin’ special in this world, we girls know that.” She was still whispering and I looked back at her. “You were right, Laurie, hold tight to that peace you found. Don’t look for somethin’ special. It ain’t out there. We know that. Just hold tight to that peace. Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I said softly.
“’Night, darlin’,” she replied and stepped aside.
I walked out the door.
* * * * *
It was tough, three waitresses working a biker bar that was in a town in Colorado that was shaking off a spring that, I was told, could last deep into summer. But the days were longer, almost always bright and consistently warm, then hot so the bikes were out and the bar was buzzing, especially on the weekends.
Carnal was a hotspot for Harleys and even Ned and Betty’s business picked up. There were four or more bikes in the parking lot every night. Come Friday and Saturday, there’d be far more and SUVs and mini-vans besides.
Unless there were kids, though, the pool was all mine. And I used it to swim and lounge nearly every day but only in the day. It wouldn’t be December until Tonia’s madman struck again but I wasn’t taking any chances.
* * * * *
Tyler was trying out a new boot camp schedule, doing his seven o’clock one but he started a one o’clock one that I thought he started just so Wendy could go to it. It wasn’t easy for her to crawl into bed at three thirty in the morning and be ready for high intensity interval training three and a half hours later.
I went with her three times a week mainly because I liked spending time with her and Tyler was a great trainer, very positive and upbeat and he made the whole thing seem like we were all a team getting prepared to compete in the Olympics, but we had to do it together. United we’d stand, divided we’d fall, so we all gave it all for Tyler and each other.
I kept going to the camps mainly because in two weeks I felt my muscles make themselves known under my flesh and not only because they ached.
And in two more weeks they made themselves known visibly and I no longer had back fat.
Tyler had started his one o’clock classes with five of us. With me and Wendy talking them up, and Wendy saying I was Tyler’s success story, in a month there were twenty of us.
I still thought all of us were nuts because it was still torture.
* * * * *
On the Monday after Tate left, I went into town to hang with Sunny and Shambles and then I wandered town just because I had time on my hands.
I walked by the florist, then walked back, went in and ordered some flowers for Betty. I waited while the florist made them up, paid for them and walked out.
I stopped on the sidewalk and walked back in.
“Everything all right?” she asked.
“Could you make up a bouquet every Monday morning? Thirty dollars worth. I’ll be in late morning to get them. If I’m not in by noon, could you deliver them to Betty at the hotel? I’ll set up an account.”
“Standing order?” she asked, her brows going up.
“Yes,” I answered, smiling.
“Sure thing, precious.”
I stuck out my hand to her. “I’m Lauren.”
She shook it. “Holly.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said and left the shop.
From then on, Betty got a thirty dollar bouquet for her reception desk every Monday.
Every Monday I walked up carrying the flowers, she’d watch me through the windows and I’d watch her face light up.
Sometimes, payback wasn’t a bitch.
* * * * *
On the second Monday, after La-La Land and before picking up the flowers from Holly, I walked the length of Carnal.
I’d been careful getting ready that morning, a bit more makeup, a few more pieces of jewelry, a nice skirt (that hung nicer when I had more meat on my bones but was clinging on my h*ps now). Nice sandals, flats but not flip flips. And I went all out on my hair.
I turned the corner at the end of Carnal and walked into the forecourt of the mechanics.
The gray-haired man was standing in the forecourt talking to a man in coveralls. He looked at me, said something to the guy he was talking to, the man walked away and the gray-haired man walked to me.
“Hi,” I said and stopped at him.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he said back.
“We never met,” I stuck out my hand and saw it was kind of shaking so I was relieved when his fingers wrapped around it. “I’m Lauren.”
“Pop,” he replied and gave my fingers a squeeze before he let them go.
“Pop?” I asked and he grinned.
“Pop, Wood and Neeta’s Dad. They called me Pop and since every kid and then every kid who had kids raced through my house, wreckin’ it in one way or another, I got to be known as Pop. It stuck.”
Neeta’s Dad. Also Wood’s.
“Is Wood here?” I asked and I thought it sounded like my voice was trembling, I just hoped he didn’t think so too.
He examined me a minute, his eyes kind but his face blank then he grinned and shouted, “Wood!”