CHAPTER 19
Hank
Icouldn’t count the number of times I’d walked through the back door of Southern Comfort. It had to be in the tens of thousands. But this was the first time in a long time that I could remember feeling excited to be there.
Before Mama passed, I’d loved coming to the bar. I loved bussing tables or helping Ray with whatever repairs needed to be done. But after she was gone, it stopped being fun and started being a huge responsibility. Thankfully, some staff had been able to be a stopgap in terms of running the day-to-day and given me a crash course on the business side of things. And Ray had been a big help. I was plannin’ on heading up to see him after I took care of the business that I’d come here for.
And that business was why I was happy to be walking through those doors tonight.
“Wasn’t expectin’ to see you tonight, son.”
I turned around and saw that I wouldn’t have to make the trip up to Ray’s apartment, he was cutting up lemons at the prep station in the storage room.
“I could say the same. Shouldn’t you be upstairs resting?”
“Ahh.” Ray dismissed my statement with a wave of his hand as he stood and grabbed the container of lemons in one hand and his cane in the other.
At least he’s using a cane, I thought to myself. He looked tired, but no worse for the wear. I’d check in with Billy who was keepin’ an eye on him since he was here every day and make sure that we didn’t need to put in a call to Dr. Wilson. Ray never married and didn’t have any family to speak of, but he was family to us and we made sure he was takin’ care of.
He walked down the hall and I followed behind him. When he stepped through the swinging door, he stopped. “Would ya look at that?”
I stepped beside him and my gaze followed his and found Skylar behind the bar.
A sense of dèjá vu came over me. It was exactly the scene I’d imagined right before Skylar had walked into the bar and asked for an application. Skylar was wearing a white V-neck T-shirt and jeans, her hair was loose around her face in waves, she was smiling and talking to several regulars.
My mama used to say that she’d see things. Flashes of things before they happened. Like sometimes she knew before someone would come to the door and the reason they’d be there. Or the color of the next car that would drive by.
Pops used to say that if she knew the future, they should play the lotto. But Mama said it didn’t work like that. She didn’t have control over when she had her visions.
She’d always told me that I had the “gift.” But just like the “curse”, I’d never put any stock in it. Mainly because so many things in life had shocked the hell out of me. The universe had pulled the rug out from under me one too many times to be a believer.
This was the first time I’d ever wondered if there might be some truth to what Mama had said.
“Bernie would be happier than a tick on a fat dog seein’ his granddaughter in here.”
Bernie Thompson had never really taken a shine to me or my brothers, so I’d never really gotten to know the man. To me, he was the cranky old man that was always yellin’ at us to stay off his property. In fairness, my brothers weren’t choir boys. They’d put rats on his front door, TP’d his house on numerous occasions, and used his back shed for BB gun target practice.
Like I said, they weren’t choir boys.
“That Miss Skylar sure is somethin’ else,” Ray commented.
I agreed, not that I’d voice it out loud. As I watched Skylar talk and laugh with the customers as she served drinks, I had a sense of belonging that I hadn’t felt in a long time. It made no damn sense considering she just moved here, and this was her first night working here. I couldn’t explain it, but for whatever reason, seeing her in my family bar, working and laughing, made me feel like I belonged.
“She definitely classes the up the joint,” Ray commented.
“Hey!” Billy appeared out of nowhere. “Are you sayin’ I’m not classy?”
Ray pfftd. “Ya streaked through here butt-assed nekkid on more than one occasion.”
My brother smiled unashamed. “Who doesn’t love a show with their drinks?”
“And then there were those shirts.” Ray shook his head in dismay.
Billy had gone through a stage of wearing risquè pun-related shirts in his early twenties. Thankfully, he’d matured and grown out of that particular fashion choice. Well, grown out of it anyway, the jury was still out on the maturing. Although, Reagan coming into his life was a step in that direction.
“My shirts made people happy. They were conversation starters.”
“Seems not everyone needs a shirt to start a conversation.” Ray inclined his head toward Skylar who was holding court behind the bar. He handed me the container of cut-up citrus before heading to the back hall and up the stairs to his apartment. “You boys behave, now.”