His eyes met mine, not sure what all he saw in them, but I was beginning to understand more about this man.
They say a bartender is like a therapist; they listen to your bullshit, might feed you a little of their advice, and give you a drink while they’re at it. This bartender though, he relates to me far more than any other man; my father included. That man didn’t experience live combat. I can now see that Grady has witnessed some shit go down in his time; the good, the bad, and even some ugly. Like I have.
“Aye, I know there isgobshitein yer head,” he taps a finger to his temple, resilience glinting in his eyes, “You’re no eejit, but sulking around and drinkin’ as you are, some might say otherwise.”
“What else am I to do?” I ask as I rake a hand through my hair. Those green eyes of his pin me to the spot, an idea sparking to life within them.
He scratches his scruffy white jaw weaved with the faintest hint of orange, “How ye feel about helpin’ ‘round here?” Grady asks, “The place needs some sprucin’ up and I’m not the spring chicken I once was. You look like you’ve got a good head on your shoulders; I could use a strong man such as yerself.”
“But I can’t do much of-
“There is no such thing as ‘can’t in my book,” he cut me off, his tone stronger than before, a crease now etching his brow. He moves from the desk to lean against the tiny table across from me, “feckin’ hell, ye said it yourself, ye feel lost, allow me to help ye find yer way.”
He’s stern but not quite commanding. I can accept that.
I can’t help but mull over his offer. There isn’t enough alcohol in my system giving me the liquid courage I need to agree.
Coward. That’s all I am, a fucking coward.
“I could use your help getting the place back in order so it can better sell.”
My hand routinely clasps my left shoulder where the stolen muscle, scars, and tense pain linger as a constant reminder.
Ican’thelp him; I have little movement on the left side of my body. Hell, I struggle putting a fucking cap back on a water bottle. The skin is tight, and the flames of pain are enough to bring me to my knees most days. How can I help him when half of me is forever immobile?
He gives a lift of his chin to where my hand rests, “don’t allow that wound to stop you. Overcome the pain, you’re bloody stronger than that Zander, you got a lot of fight left, don’t waste it on the bottle.”
My mind for once is not fogged by heavy liquor, hell, I’m practically sober right now compared to any other night.
There is nothing more I despise than the physical therapy sessions the VA says will help. I’m sorry but squeezing a stress ball and pinching clothes pins up a fucking string does absolute dick for me. Grady must sense my agitation; he wouldn’t have brought me in this office otherwise.
Can he see how close I am to tipping off the edge?
“How’s about this; ye go home, sober up, and if yer up for helpin’ then report here Monday mornin’, nine o’clock sharp.” His tired eyes flash with determination.
This man isn’t going to let me go until I surrender.
Did my sister have a talk with Grady about my behavior lately? I wouldn’t put it past her, the little thing can be cute and highly persuasive, but she also has pride for her family and will do anything for any one of us, even if it means going against our wishes most times. Emma is wanting her brother, her best friend back.
This guy might be the one who breaks me, but what do I have to lose? Not much I suppose.
“If you can get passed me doing a half-assed job,” I gesture to my side, “I guess I’m your man.” I sigh then stand, placing myself toe-to-toe and give him my undivided attention to show respect, “I don’t want you taking pity on me-
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.”He spat, “This is no damn pity-party Zander.” His eyes flame with fury over that word. Pity. No man wants to say that word let alone hear it pertain to them, “I’m only askin’ for ye to consider my offer. If ye want to help an old lad, bring yer arse here. If not – don’t show. Ye have choice.”
I take in a breath and let it out slowly, all while feeling his eyes boring into me. Through all the discussions Grady and I had these many years, this one is the only one he’s shown a pinch of anger. No way will I cross this man.
Nodding once I give a little shrug, “I’ll do it. Just take it easy on me, kay?”
One side of his lips twitch at his win, “Lad, if only it be that easy.”
Well, shit. What in the ever-loving hell did I just agree to?
There is no backing out now. It’s not a Marine’s way, and I’ll be damned if I fall back on this promise.
I have to follow my own daily marching chant I’d give the infantry;Give it your everything or go home. No time for fuckin’ slackers.
_CHAPTER 3 - ALEXANDER_