Complicated Relationships (The Southern Devotion Series Book 3) (4 page)

Chapter Seven

Saved by the Bald

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Since my day out with Macy, I needed to take on a few extra shifts to cover all the bills this month.  Tuesday nights were one of the worst in the week. I'd prefer a crowded Saturday night over an empty night during the week. Only one bartender worked during these nights unless there was a special occasion or holiday. Even then, the bartender barely had anything to do so we'd spend the evening staring at the television screens or chatting one on one with the customers who were there simply to drown their sorrows.

I wanted Lanie to be there tonight. The two times we'd spoken were on the weekend. I know she's a school teacher though, and it is still summer, so I decided to give it a shot. I sent her a quick text.

Me:
Hi, It's Tristan. It's slow at the club tonight, thought maybe you'd want to stop by and finish telling me the story?

Lanie:
Sure. I'll be there in an hour?

Me:
Sounds perfect.

"You look happy, what are you up to?" Ashton asked approaching the bar.

"I asked a girl to come see me tonight. Hope that’s ok, boss."

Ashton chuckled, "You know it's fine. Sounds promising. Who is she?"

"I met her here a few nights ago. She left me her number, thought I'd give her a call."

"Good luck! Since it's slow, I'm going to head home and spend time with my beautiful wife. Gracie texted me and said that Autumn is finally asleep. We haven't had alone time in a while."

"I get it."

"I know you do. Macy may not be an infant, but she does take up a lot of your time," Ashton commented.

"It's worth it though. And I'm going to start spending more time with her again. We went out the other day, and she admitted something to me about our mom. She's still having trouble coping even now."

"You know Gracie is a psychologist. If Macy needs to talk to someone, Gracie would love to be there for her."

"Sure, that would be great. I'll talk to Macy. In exchange, maybe she could babysit so that you guys could have a few date nights out."

Ashton gave me a strong hug and said, "Brother, you read my mind. That would be the best payment." He patted my back and then waved as he left.

"Am I too late?" I heard a soft female voice call out from behind me. Lanie lifted herself up onto the bar stool and leaned forward with a smile. I grabbed two beers from the cooler and popped the tops as I strolled over to her.

"Nope. Just on time to share a beer with me."

"Can you drink on the job?"

"Yeah, as long as I don't get drunk. I'm on the clock for about," I checked my watch, "Five more hours, so it's my one drink for the night, and I want to share it with you."

"I'm honored. I honestly didn’t think you were going to call," Lanie took a long sip of beer waiting for my answer.

"I wanted to call sooner; it's just that I needed to spend some time with Macy, my little sister. She's having a hard time….boy troubles."

She pointed the bottle to me, "Those are the worst troubles. I feel for her. How old is she?"

"Fourteen, she's about to be a Senior in high school," I forget what that sounds like to people when I say it out loud.

Lanie choked a bit on her beer, "What? Wow! She's like a Doogie Howser?"

"Like a who?" I asked perplexedly.

"Doogie Howser…teen doctor…Neil Patrick Harris? Ring a bell?"

"Neil Patrick Harris…he's on that
How I Met Your Mother
show, right?"

Lanie shook her head back and forth, "Um…yeah. He started acting though at a much younger age. It was a show in the late eighties, early nineties, called Doogie Howser, M.D. He played a sixteen-year-old genius who became a doctor. You never watched it?"

"I was born in the early nineties, what do you expect?"

Lanie held her hand up feigning offense, "And you think I am older than that?"

"No, no of course not."

She laughed, "It's fine, Tristan, I'm joking. I watched it when it came out on DVD. I love anything and everything from that time. Now if you told me you never watched
Saved by the Bell
, I'd be offended."

I glanced at my beer bottle, cleared my throat and said, "Need another?"

Lanie gasped, "Seriously? Zack?  Slater? Kelly Kapowski? Screech?"

I cleared my throat again and repeated, "So…that beer?"

Lanie set her bottle down, stood up, extended her hand to me which I took hold of, and she said, "Thank you for the beer. It was nice meeting you. Goodnight."

She began to walk away, leaving me dumbfounded. "You're leaving?"

"Yes," she called out without turning around. I ran after her, reached out and spun her around gently. She did her best to continue holding in her laughter.

"That was downright mean. I thought I offended you."

"You did. I can recite each episode of that show, down to the songs that Zack Attack performed."

"Zack Attack?" I asked still completely lost.

Lanie smacked her forehead, "You make me sad. Let's change the subject."

"Deal. Come sit back down?"

She followed me back to the bar where I grabbed her a cold beer to replace her last one. A bald man sat a few seats down from hers, and he tossed back his third shot of the night. He glanced up and held his glass up to her, "How you doin'?"

"Good, Joey Tribiani, and you?" Lanie chortled and gave an entertainment reference that I completely understood for a change.

"Friends, now
that
I know," I stated relieved at the smile that spread over her face.

"Thank goodness, now we can talk and it might go somewhere."

I leaned down close, pressed her hair behind her ear and trailed my finger down her cheek as I asked, "Where might this be going?" I felt her shiver at my touch, and it made me feel warm inside. If baldy hadn't been in the room, the bar might have gotten a bit x-rated. She bit her bottom lip and sucked in a gasp of air.

"Can I get a refill?" baldy called out from behind me. Lanie blushed as I pulled away from her ready to call this guy a cab so he'd leave already. After I had filled up his shot of whiskey once more, I went back to Lanie's side.

"So, where were we?"

"Probably some place we weren't ready to be. Tell me a story from your high school days? Were you a player, a geek, a jock?" she asked changing the subject.

"Um…ok. I wasn’t a typical high school kid. I wanted to play sports but with my mom's illness that didn’t work out. I spent a lot of time with my sister instead."  The subject took a more serious change than I meant it too.

"What illness?"

"Alzheimers. The doctors diagnosed her my first year of high school; Macy was only four. As soon as I turned eighteen my dad signed custody over to me and left."

Lanie's mouth dropped open in surprise. "That's not what I expected to hear. You know we got off subject earlier but tell me again how Macy is a Senior at fourteen?"

"She's incredibly intelligent, she started school a year early and skipped two grades. She's always loved school, gotten top grades, even exceeded top grades because she did all the extra credit projects too. She wants to go to medical school and become a doctor. I think her dream is to find a cure for Alzheimer's's so that no one else goes through this pain." My voice choked a bit in my description. I hated to appear vulnerable in front of this woman.

Lanie walked around the bar and wrapped me in an embrace. Her arms pressed against my back pulling me tightly against her. My hands landed on her lower back; my nose pressed against her neck taking in the scent of her skin as she consoled me. I lifted my head to face her and moved in for a kiss when baldy interrupted us again. "I need another drink."

I sighed and let go of Lanie. Instead of pouring another shot of whiskey, I cut him off and informed him that a cab was on the way. When I turned to make the call for the cab, I saw Lanie gathering her things. "Are you leaving?"

"It's late. I have to work tomorrow. I enjoyed talking with you though. I'll come back this weekend if you'd like. Or you could give me a call," Lanie said, illustrating that she wants to see me again as much as I want to see her. Next time I do see her I plan on continuing what baldy interrupted for us.

Chapter Eight

Friends First

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Alright guys, I’m heading to the grocery store since it’s my turn to shop. Any requests before I go?” I asked Angel and Macy.

Macy replied first, “Mouthwash.”

“What? We had a whole bottle the other day?” I said, confused.

“If we did, we’re out now.”

“Ok, mouthwash,” I mumbled as I added it to a list I had made in my phone for reference. “Anything else? Angel do you have any special requests?”

“Feminine hygiene products,” she replied with a smirk.

“Um, it’s better if you get that yourself. I’ll screw it up.”

“Get some for me while you’re at it,” Macy requested.

Covering my ears, I chanted, “La la la, I don’t want to know that my sister has hit puberty.”

“Two years ago, T,” she said nonchalantly.

“How have you been getting the stuff before?” She never asked me to pick anything up at the store for her, and I had never seen them in the bathroom.

“Allowance money is how I bought them. It’s not exactly something I wanted to mention to my big brother. Then when you met Mary Jane she bought them for me.”

“I’m sorry, kid. You should’ve come to me.”

She shrugged, “It’s fine, I made do with what I could.”

Macy amazed me more and more each day at how independent she could be. For a fourteen-year-old to have been through as much as she had, I would expect her to act out much more. I suppose I’m lucky that she let it mature her instead of allowing it to break her down.

With a deep resounding sigh, I caved to their demands. Handing them the paper, I said, “Write down specifically what you want. I mean brand name, with or without those wing things, length, color, whatever it requires, so I don’t screw it up. In fact, if you can take a picture of the packaging and text it to me that would be even better.”

Together they stepped up and kissed my face. “Thanks, Dad,” they chimed in as though they'd planned it. “Weirdo’s,” I muttered before winking and walking out the door.

The grocery store was pretty dead on a Thursday morning that was why it’s my favorite time to shop. My first stop was the feminine aisle so that I could grab up what they needed and bury them below the rest of the groceries. “Tristan?” I heard as I pulled a giant package of tampons off the shelf. When I saw who the voice belonged to, the embarrassment spread rapidly across my face.

“Oh,” she said, noticing the package in my hand. “Girlfriend send you shopping?”

“Little sister and roommate did actually. Is that your way of asking me if I have a girlfriend, Lanie?”

She blushed at being caught. It’s unclear to me what made this girl standout more than anyone else that I’ve met at the club. She had a way of making me smile in an instant and no matter what she wore she looked irresistible.

She avoided the question completely,"It's nice that you're willing to pick that up for her. Even most dads won't do the feminine hygiene products."

"They somewhat guilted me into it, to be honest."

“It only proves you're an even more amazing guy than I thought. And I thought you were already pretty amazing," she gave a sexy wink turning the temperature in the store up several degrees.

"Would you like to go on a date with me, Lanie?"

Her lips spread into a wide grin, she bowed her head a bit embarrassed and then responded, "I thought you'd never ask."

 

 

Tonight was my first date with Lanie; hopefully not the only. Ever since I ran into her at the grocery store, she had invaded my mind non-stop. We were supposed to meet at the restaurant at seven. It was her idea to meet there instead of letting me pick her up, possibly due to the bad dates she experienced recently. It’s always good to be cautious about who knows where you live, especially as a single woman. Not that I thought Lanie couldn’t take care of herself in any situation.

When I arrived at the restaurant, the hostess took me to a booth to wait for my date. My phone rang, and I saw that it was Marcus, one of my bartenders. “Hey man, what’s up?”

Marcus’ voice on the other end sounded scratchy and horrible. “I’m not going to make it in tonight boss. I ate something terrible and have been upchucking all day.”

“No problem, man. Feel better. I’ll call and see if Grayson can cover you.”  I tried Grayson’s number with no luck. My stomach tightened with the realization that if I couldn’t get a hold of Grayson I had to go in myself. The only other bartender on duty was Xander, and he’d never handle the crowd on his own. Attempting Grayson’s number two more times, I resigned myself to looking for Lanie’s number next.

“Sorry, I’m late,” she said as she slid in across from me. She lifted her phone as I hung up. “Were you calling to see where I was?” she asked smiling.

“No. Unfortunately, I was calling to cancel. I have to go into work and cover for one of my bartenders. He called me a few minutes ago and has food poisoning. I can’t get my other guy to answer his phone, so I have to cover. I’m sorry, Lanie.”

And I’d never been so sorry from the moment I laid eyes on her tonight. Her black dress cut low in the front and hugged her waist before flaring out into a skirt that fell a few inches above her knees. She wore an expression of disappointment that tugged at my heart strings. “I’m sorry. Would you like to come to the bar with me? Drinks on me?”  We stood up to leave; I handed the waitress a tip in apology for bailing on her table.

“Maybe we can do this some other time." Lanie's words sounded like this would never happen, and it worried me that she'd given up already.

Reaching out, I grabbed her elbow gently and pulled her to the side when we were out the door. “You’re terribly mad at me, aren’t you?”

She shook her head, “No not at all. I understand. I’ll admit I’m disappointed, but not mad. When is your next night off?” 

“Tuesday.”

She thought for a moment and said, “With school being out, I have a part-time job during the summer, and I have to work that night. Maybe this isn’t meant to be.”

I took my left hand and softly grazed her cheek with my finger. She closed her eyes, and I felt her shiver at the touch. “You want this to happen as much as I do.”

She chewed her lip and dipped her eyes to the ground. “I do.”

I leaned down and brushed my lips against her cheek; not wanting to ruin our first kiss moment by hastily sharing one now. With my mouth close to her ear, I said, “I’ll switch shifts with Marcus for tomorrow if you can make it.” She nodded then moved away quickly to her car. I’d had an effect on her, and I liked it. When I called, Marcus was more than willing to cover my shift tomorrow night so he wouldn’t lose any hours. 

 

Next night I sprinted downstairs to find my shoes when I found Angel lying on the couch. Normally this wouldn’t have been concerning if she weren't face down. Kneeling beside her, I moved her hair from her face and cough as I inhaled the fumes of whiskey trailing from her mouth, clothes, everywhere it seemed. Shaking her and repeating her name over and over was not helping anything. I struggled to lift her body off the couch; the dead weight was too much for me to handle alone. I rolled her over to her side, scooting her back against the couch for support. In the kitchen, I filled a cup with ice and water, gave it a few seconds for the ice to disperse its coldness before draining the water into another cup with no ice. She’ll thank me for this later; I attempted to convince myself as I threw the cold water on her face.

She jumped up screaming with fists flailing for a target. When she steadied, I said, “I thought you might be dead. How much did you drink?”

She flailed her arms in anger, “I don’t know. What’s it to you?”

Next to the couch I noticed two bottles of Jack Daniel’s whiskey. “Tell me you didn’t drink both of those by yourself.” 

She stepped up into my face and said, “Of course not, I'd be dead. Now, get off my back, asshole. You’re not my dad, my boyfriend or my husband. You’re my fucking roommate. Learn your place, T.” Angel had never been this drunk or this hostile in the time I'd known her.

“I’m not going to take what you say to heart because I know you don’t mean it, Angel.”

She scoffed, “What if I do? Why don’t you move the hell out and take your brat sister with you.”  Ouch. Luckily, Macy is staying with a friend tonight, or that would have hurt her feelings a lot. She and Angel have become very close since we moved here. Angel moved forward to leave the room and stumbled toward the ground. Before I could reach out for her, her head connected with the coffee table as she crashed to the floor. She screamed in pain. When she sat up, there was a gash with blood dripping from it.

“Shit,” I blurted, and then ran to grab a hand towel from the kitchen. When I pressed it against her head, I tried to stop the bleeding to see if it would need stitches. It looked superficial enough. She kept the towel held against her head while I went to get the first aid kit.

While I was at it, I called to cancel on Lanie, again. Once more, she sounded disappointed. She said she’d call me later when she had her schedule in front of her so we could pick another day, but it sounded like a blow off. While I took care of Angel, I tried to figure out a way to make this up to Lanie. I helped Angel get upstairs to my room where I had a first aid kit. She passed out shortly after I bandaged her head. She laid on my lap for the medical attention and fell asleep in that position. I sighed and turned the television on while I was weighed down by her body. Thank goodness there was a
Walking Dead
marathon on or I’d have been bored out of my mind sitting there.

For the next few hours, I watched the gore and drama filled show until my legs were starting to fall asleep. Carefully I pushed Angel aside, and she woke up startled. “Tristan?  Where am I?” 

“In my bedroom.”

She grabbed her head, “What hit me?”

“You hit the coffee table when you almost passed out from drinking possibly two bottles of whiskey. Care to explain why you’re drinking so much alone?”

Angel stood up, her stance wobbly at best. “I’m going to take some ibuprofen.”

Steadying her arm, I reached behind me. “Beat you to it. Here take these and drink this entire glass of water. You shouldn’t lie back down. I let you sleep too long; you could have a concussion.”

She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “Didn’t you have a date?”

“I did. Like I said though, you fell asleep and could have a concussion; I couldn’t leave you here alone.”   It was hard to tell if she was embarrassed, angry, or grateful by the look on her face. “Tell me why you’re drinking, Angel.”  Silently she walked from the room. Following close behind her, I vowed, “I’m not letting this go.”

As I grabbed her arm swinging her around to face me, I noticed the tears streaming down her face. “I don’t know, Tristan. I can’t answer you,” she conceded in a whisper of shame.  Once I wrapped her in my embrace, she began to release the sobs of fear that she’d been holding inside. Something’s happening to her, and if we didn’t help her stop this downward spiral we'd lose her. “Don’t tell anyone, please. I don’t want them to know.” Methodically smoothing her hair with my hand I swore to keep it our secret. “Did I do anything crazy?” 

“You told me to get out and take my brat sister with me.”  It occurred to me after seeing how appalled she was at her words that I should’ve probably said no or that she was belligerent with no other details.

“I’m sorry, T! You know I love Macy.”

Covering her mouth gently with my hand, I said, “I know. Now to show us how much you care I want you to stop drinking.” She opened her mouth to argue when I interrupted. “I mean it. There’s a difference between getting drunk with friends once in a while and getting drunk all alone. If I’m going to keep your secret, you have to be willing to change.”

Sighing with defeat, she promised to try her best. We went to the fridge and liquor cabinet ridding both of every alcoholic beverage known to man. We spent most of the night talking about her options, looking up groups on the internet. Angel wanted to try it on her own first, well with my help only. I agreed as long as I noticed improvement.

 

 

 

 

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