Chapter Fifteen

Olivia’s hopes for busy day and occupied mind proved fruitless. Everything dragged her back to Dave: the fish meals she served, the sunlight sparkling on the water, the boats tied at the dock…

At her last peek outside, Dave’s truck stood beside her car. She’d hoped he’d come down to eat or at least grab a beer, but no. Probably all her fault. She hadn’t meant to be so cold to him at the pool, but finding him watching her swim left her too startled to manage her emotions.

Happy hour turned into a deluge of dinner customers, keeping them running. She hurried into the kitchen to give Uncle Jake her newest table’s order and pick up another table’s salads. Teo was alone, hustling at the grill, and Benny, their seventeen-year-old dishwasher, was nervously building salads under Teo’s stream of instructions. Concern shivered up her spine. “Where’s Uncle Jake?”

“Had to go to the office for a call, he said, but it’s been a long time now.” Teo lifted a basket of golden fries from the fryer. “Really could use him back.”

“I bet Daddy has him trapped on the phone. I’ll go rescue him.”

“Thanks. Busy night tonight.”

Daddy always tried managing Uncle Jake’s life, too, and failed regularly, but that didn’t stop his long calls. She’d just have to brace herself and offer to talk to Daddy. She heaved a breath and opened the office door.

Uncle Jake sat slumped in the chair, eyes shut, his face pale, and his breathing strained.

Cold fear swamped her. “Uncle Jake! Oh, Uncle Jake. Open your eyes.” She tried to check his pulse, but he yanked his wrist away.

He peered up at her with a weary scowl. “Don’t need to shout.”

“I’m calling 911.” She grabbed the phone.

He closed his shaky hand on hers, stopping her from dialing, his grip surprisingly strong. “I’m not going to the hospital. Just got a little dizzy there for a moment. Nothing to make all this fuss over.”

“Stop being so stubborn. Dr. McGraw said if you had another episode, he wanted you in the hospital immediately.”

“I’m not being stubborn. This wasn’t another episode, and I’m already feeling better.”

Olivia had to admit his color and breathing were already improved. “I want you to get checked out. If you won’t let me call for an ambulance, let me take you to the hospital. You can’t fool around with your heart. Please, Uncle Jake, don’t fight with me on this.”

“I’m not fighting with you, baby girl. I’m not going. I just forgot my pills and did too much this morning. I took ’em now. I’m fine, but since you’re worried, I promise I’ll take it easy. I’ll even let you take over for me in the kitchen tonight.”

Her heart sped again. She’d never worked in the kitchen without Uncle Jake before. Yes, she knew what to do and she had Teo, but still…

Stop. Be brave. You are a good cook. You know what to do.

Against her better judgment, she caved. His color was back, and he was breathing normally. “Okay, but we’ll be keeping an eye on you. If you get dizzy or short of breath again, it’s the hospital for you and no arguing. I love you too much to lose you over foolishness.” She hugged him.

He hugged her back. “Love you too, baby girl. Only laziness for the rest of the night for me. I promise.”

She told all the staff. They loved him as much as she did, and they’d keep a sharp eye on him.

Teo and she easily settled their cooking tasks. During a lull, she slipped out from the kitchen to check on Uncle Jake. He was sitting behind the bar and looked to be keeping his promise to rest.

Royce dragged in, tired and sad. “Hi, Olivia.” His smile faltered, adding to her worries.

Had his dad taken a turn for the worse? “Are you okay? How’s your dad?”

“Dad’s doing okay, except for Granddad raising his blood pressure. No change there.”

Oh, wait, it was Wednesday. He must have paid his grandma a visit. Alzheimer’s had stolen Mrs. Maguire’s memories, making his visits a stranger to a stranger, but Royce insisted his visits cheered her and doggedly stuck to his routine.

Livie glanced at Uncle Jake, desperately thankful he and her parents had escaped that disease.

Uncle Jake slipped from his seat and poured Royce his usual beer. “Here you go. Rough day, huh?”

“Thanks, Jake. Yeah, rough day. Different day, same old crap. Granddad’s been on a tear. He and Dad lit into each other on the phone. Granny, well…” He shrugged and firmed his smile. “She’s at least comfortable.”

She patted his shoulder. “Did you eat yet?”

“No. I could use a burger.”

“Your usual?”

“That’ll hit the spot. Thanks.”

About a half hour later, her cell phone rang. Daddy. Maybe he could nag his brother into visiting the doctor. She glanced at Teo. “It’s my dad. Are you good for me to take a few?”

He nodded, attention fixed on the grilled mahi-mahi he was plating. “Got it. Rush is over, so I’m good here. Take all the time you need.”

She loved Teo. Nothing ruffled him. She’d miss him so much when he went away to culinary school. If only she could keep him here, but she’d never hold him back from his dreams.

Steeling herself, she answered the call. “Hi, Daddy.” She slipped into the quiet utility room, restraining the urge to spill every last worry.

“You didn’t call last night.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose against the surging headache. “Sorry, last night was busy. How’s Mama?”

“She’s fine, but she worried all last night since you didn’t call and your area had tornado watches. She’s at choir practice tonight.”

Right. Now she had to tell Daddy about Uncle Jake without Mama’s calm backup. “They’re always posting the watches, but the warnings were inland. We had a few strong squalls, but the winds were just blustery, not bad at all.”

“I’m glad. I would have waited until your Mama arrived home, but I wanted to talk to you tonight alone.”

Her heart sped. Please, please, don’t let anything be wrong with Mama or Daddy.

“It’s been a year. You need to make plans for your future, Olivia. You can’t keep avoiding decisions. Mama and I want you to come home.”

“Daddy—”

“We need to sit down and plan where you are going from here.”

Oh, please, not this lecture. Not today. As he droned on with the same old concerns, advice, and orders, Olivia pressed her forehead against the wall, slowly counting to ten against shouting all that crowded her throat.

I have future plans! Florida is my home. I am financially invested in this business. I am an official partner. I am a productive, hands-on, participating partner in this bar. This isn’t temporary. This is a real career. This is what I want to do with my life.

Why did Daddy refuse to see this?

She clenched her jaw. I can’t deal with this tonight! I have Dave upstairs, Uncle Jake to watch, the kitchen to run!

Daddy’s lecture rolled on. “This isn’t the career for you, Olivia. You can’t go on frittering away your life working in a bar.”

Her head pounded. “Daddy! Stop. I can’t leave here! Uncle Jake needs me. He had another episode today.”

Silence. That tore Daddy’s full focus off her abandoned career. His voice wavered. “How bad?”

“I don’t know. He was pale and shaky. He claimed he forgot his meds this morning, and he refused to let me check him over and refused to go to the hospital, but it must have scared him, because he agreed to rest. We’re all keeping an eye on him. I’m covering for him in the kitchen.”

Daddy pelted her with questions she had no answers for, leaving her drowning in inadequacy. “Daddy, talk to him yourself. Maybe he’ll listen to you.”

Daddy’s frustrated snort was loud and clear. “If he listened to me, he wouldn’t be in Florida.”

“Okay, I need to get back to work. We’re busy tonight. I’ll talk to you and Mama tomorrow morning, okay?”

He let her go, and the remainder of the evening passed smoothly. She was a tired, jumbled mix of triumph and worry and in dire need of a shower, but Teo, Benny, and she had worked smoothly together and cooking had filled her with bright moments of pleasure.

Still, the kitchen felt so wrong without Uncle Jake.

As always after closing, she walked with Uncle Jake to his front door. He acted his old peppy self, as if they hadn’t had that scare.

“Uncle Jake…” Her voice failed her, and she hugged him.

“I’m fine, Olivia. Just forgot my pills. I’ll be more careful. I promise.”

“I worry.”

“I don’t want you worrying. When my time comes, it’ll come. I just hope I’ll be at my stove with wine in my glass, not wasting away in a hospital bed. Now, you get some sleep. No more worries.” He kissed her forehead and stepped inside.

Torn, she headed home. A grocery bag leaned against her door filled with coffee, cereal, sugar…and four apples.

She swallowed against the rush of tears and memories and lifted the sack. Soft guitar notes emanated from his apartment, starting and stopping, and the same notes beginning again.

Dave was playing.

Pinned in place by the rich, wordless lament, she shut her eyes. Tears rose, and her throat tightened. On and on he played, solemn and bluesy and complicated.

Pain in her fingers from the sack straps stirred her. His apartment was quiet. How long had she stood there lost in longing? Unnerved, she slipped into her apartment, and slumped heavily against the door, the sack sliding from her fingers as fresh tears burned her cheeks.

****

Over the next several days, a heavy need to sleep knocked Dave flat like a hurricane, and his music consumed his waking hours with a vengeance. He’d play guitar, scribble notes like a crazy man, sleep hard, dream of Livie and music, wake, eat, play, unload music onto paper, and crash into sleep again.

On the fourth day Dave woke, if not rested, finally not grindingly exhausted.

He’d come to a decision. He was staying until Livie and he’d worked out this thing between them. That polite cool distance of the other day was unacceptable.

Time to prove himself to her—and to himself.

He opened his laptop, and after waiting through endless updates, popped online and shot off an email to Nate and Lloyd letting them know he was alive and in Florida, and quickly shut down, ignoring the overflowing inbox.

Showered, shaved, and dressed, he knocked on Livie’s door. No answer. He headed downstairs and let himself in through the kitchen.

Jake gave a stir to the large pot at the stove and replaced the lid. Dave’s stomach growled at the savory scents.

“How’re you doing?” The old man furrowed his brows.

“Better. Did some sleeping. Some thinking.”

“Good.” Jake pulled a pitcher of murky greenish liquid from the fridge. He poured two glasses and handed one to Dave. “Drink up.” He drank half his glass, and waited, sharp eyes on Dave.

Dave took a swallow. Some veggie-fruit mystery combo. Not bad, just strange. He cleared his throat. “I appreciate your letting me stay. I wanted to talk to you about rent—”

Jake waved dismissively. “Don’t need your money.”

“I want to earn my keep. I bartend in the off-season, and I’m handy with tools. I can give you references.” A useless offer. A small place like this didn’t need more employees.

Jake nodded, a calculating look sharpening his eyes. “Okay. Finish that juice. We’ve got a faucet to repair in the ladies’ room. Pick a shirt from the case for working the bar tomorrow. Jeans or khakis are fine.” He winked. “I’ll take the shirt out of your first check.”

A wiry young Hispanic man wearing a chef’s apron pushed through the kitchen door.

Jake gave a warm grin. “Hey, Teo, this is Dave. He’s working with us now. Make sure he eats.”

“Hi, Dave. Welcome.”

“Teo’s my right-hand man here in the kitchen, but he’s leaving us next year. Got into a high-class culinary school. He’ll be a hotshot chef one of these days.” Jake’s proud smile over-shone his casual teasing.

“All thanks to you, Jake.”

“You did the work. I just nagged you along.”

“He’s good at that. So watch out. Nag, nag, nag.” Teo laughed. “So, Dave, what do you like to eat?”

Dave grinned, considering the widely varied meals he’d eaten over the years at fires and camping. “Food.”

Teo laughed. “We’ve got that covered.”

The kitchen door swung open, and Livie wandered in, focused on the sheaf of papers in her hand. “Uncle Jake, do you think we should—” She spotted Dave and froze, her expression mixed.

Jake grinned, his sharp eyes softening for his niece. “Hey, baby girl. Put Dave on the payroll starting today. He’ll be helping us out around the place.”

“Ah…Sure.” She shot Jake a wide-eyed questioning look. She jotted down Dave’s information for the records and disappeared.

He downed his mystery juice. Staying was the right decision, but he faced an uphill battle. She might have said stay, without the meaning he found in her word. They’d be near each other twenty-four/seven. Would that help or hurt?

“Done? Good stuff. Olivia got me a juicer last Christmas. Follow me.”

Jake led him into a utility room crammed with the water heater, washer and dryer, workbench, tools, and cleaning equipment. Jake grabbed the boxed faucet set off the workbench. “Grab that blue toolbox on the shelf there.”

Out in the bar, the woman bartender with the salt and pepper hair from the other night was finishing prep and the redheaded waitress he’d met was rolling flatware sets.

“Morning, ladies. Dave’s working with us now. Need an extra hand, he’s your man. He’ll be behind the bar, too, so I can take things easier, like Olivia’s been nagging me.”

The redhead beamed. “Great news.”

“Hi, Dave. Welcome to the family.” The bartender wiped her hands on a towel.

Jake nodded to his bartender. “Dave, this here’s Jean. She’s been with us twenty years. There’s nothing she doesn’t know about bartending, so any questions, she’s got the answers.”

Dave shook hands. “Good to meet you, Jean.”

Jake grinned at the redhead. “And this is Bettie. She and Olivia like to double-team me and nag me on my diet.”

“Only because we love you.” Bettie blew Jake a kiss.

Jake raised the faucet box. “We’re fixing that danged faucet today.”

“Yay!” Jean and Bettie high-fived.

Like all plumbing jobs in an old building, the replacement took extra time, some curses, and a run to the utility room for a new shut-off valve, but they had the sink working by opening.

After that, Jake sat him at the bar with a hamburger, coleslaw, and sweet potato fries, and during endless casual poker hands, introduced him to the other employees and the regular customers. Jake also gave running lessons on the routines in his place, the menu, the regulars’ preferences, while sprinkling in stories from over the years.

This might all work. Unlike the Dos Arboles, which was a big sports bar and hook-up joint, Jake’s bar was a comfortable place where locals hung with friends to drink, talk, and eat Jake’s fine cooking. The place showed its age, from the worn wooden furniture and floors to the scarred, shining mahogany bar, but was clean and boasted well-stocked shelves of liquor that leaned toward the classic good stuff.

Happy hour started hopping, and Jake had Dave join Jean behind the bar.

Maguire showed up after eight and slid into the corner seat at the bar. He eyed Dave, his gaze flicking from him limping around filling an order of six draft beers to his cane propped in the corner, his expression judging and curious.

Dave stepped over to take his order. “What can I get you?”

“A pint of Foster’s, thanks, and I’ll take a burger, with Jake’s broccoli slaw, and a side of garlic bread.”

He jotted the food order on the ticket pad. “How do you want that burger?”

“Medium rare. Onion, extra tomato, lettuce.”

“Got it.” As Bettie passed by he handed off the order, and then poured Maguire’s beer.

After a long sip, Maguire gave him another weighing gaze over the rim of his glass. “You were in the service?”

“Forestry. Smokejumpers. Retired.” A weird twist ran through him at saying retired. He forced a smile. “A little sooner than I planned.”

“Ah. I’d have guessed a Marine. You remind me of some friends.”

Dave laughed. He could say the same of Maguire. The man had that military or cop spit and polish posture and eyes like Nate’s brothers who were career Marines. “How about you?”

“Navy. Finished my twenty and decided it was time to try something new.” Maguire groaned. “Helping out my ornery old cuss of a granddad with the marina wasn’t in the plans. But, family, you know? Got to do what you got to do.”

The bar got busy again. Maguire took a couple calls while eating his meal, giving frustrated clipped answers. Jean served him another beer. Dave caught Livie peeking from the office once, but she didn’t come out to talk to Maguire.

Awhile later, Maguire waved him over for another beer. While Dave poured, Maguire nodded at the cane. “Cool stick. So what’s your story?”

“Plane went down en route to a fire last year.” Dave shrugged. “So time for something new.”

Maguire’s eyes widened. “Shit.”

“Yeah, that’s one word for it.” That and a load of other four-letter words. He sucked in a breath and tried for an I’m-cool-with-it-now tone. “Could have been worse.”

****

He was staying, for a while.

Tossed between stunned and joyous at Uncle Jake’s hiring Dave, Olivia had hidden in the office for most of the day.

Over the past worrisome days, she’d been so tempted to knock on the door, but quiet listens provided sounds of life in steady snores or practice sessions. The snores were a relief, and the music was incredible. Soft, angry, classical, rock, jazzy, bluesy, familiar melodies from the radio, and unfamiliar stretches that she wondered if he’d composed.

Of course, by hiding away for hours, she’d caught up on all the paperwork, bookkeeping, and Uncle Jake’s filing pile, and ran out of distracting tasks. She’d have to come out for supper or Uncle Jake would want answers.

She needed to talk to someone. Not Mama or Daddy. What could she say? I had a vacation affair and fell in love, and he broke my heart, and now he’s working for Uncle Jake, and I’m afraid I might still love him…No, not a good conversation at all.

She should let Nate and Kay know the news of the day. Dave would hate that she’d been reporting on him, but they were her friends, too, and they’d been worried to pieces. With emotions knotting her throat, chatting on line would be easier than a phone call. She opened her browser. A moment later, an IM from Kay popped up.

[KBrowningQuinn] Hey. How are you doing? Any news?

[OliviaABenedetti] Okay. Dave finally came downstairs.

[KBrowningQuinn] He emailed Nate and Lloyd this morning. We’re so relieved. Well, Nate’s relieved and pissed. He’s been beyond worried. You have no idea how glad we’ve been to hear from you each day. How does he seem?

Olivia tried picturing the laid-back Nate pissed off and failed. She shook her head as she typed.

[OliviaABenedetti] Tired, but calmer, more himself. The big news today is Uncle Jake hired him to work here as a handyman and bartender. So he’s staying for a while, until he sorts out what he’s doing next.

[KBrowningQuinn] Are you okay with that?

No. Yes. Maybe.

[OliviaABenedetti] Things are okay here. I can handle it.

Now if she were only as certain as her words. She needed to find the positives. With Dave here, Uncle Jake might keep his promise to take it easy more often.

[KBrowningQuinn] Nate’s on the phone. I told him the update. He says thanks.

[OliviaABenedetti] I’ll keep you posted.

[KBrowningQuinn] *hugs* Thank you!!! TTYL Got to run.

Livie slumped, aimlessly deleting junk emails. How was she ever to ignore the churning hope and need and keep her distance?

No more hiding. She had to eat. She headed for the door.

Be bold, brave…

But that could get her hurt again.

****

From that day on, Dave worked every day: busing tables, behind the bar, more plumbing, painting a coat of sealant on the decks, and fixing the raised board on the dock. The days flew by. One week turned into two and counting. He and Livie needed to talk, but she hid in the office or the kitchen, and he kept giving her space. Jake frowned at them and shook his head.

Dave enjoyed the bartending, the conversations, and the companionship. Never a crush in Jake’s place like the Dos Arboles could get, but busy enough the extra hands lightened the load, leaving Jake free to socialize and cook.

The work kept him on his feet and drove home he’d been sitting on his ass way too much. While Jake didn’t care if Dave grabbed a seat when he needed to, self-disgust kicked him into serious gear. He swam every day and started kicking his own ass with the PT and exercise he’d let slide. He found a barber, he shaved every day, and he stopped feeling like something a cat hacked up. Crash flashbacks still hit more often than he liked, but he powered through, and he was managing. In his private time, he listened to the music flooding him, poured the notes onto paper, and played.

When Livie wasn’t around, Jake shared rambling off-hand stories about her childhood summer visits and her parents. Jake adored Livie like a daughter. Dave listened avidly and learned.

Maguire stopped in often. Dave couldn’t help liking the guy. He was friendly and liked to talk over the ball games. Livie and Maguire seemed to be just close friends. Livie hadn’t been out with Maguire, or any guy, but she brightened at his every visit. Maguire’s granddad was something else. Salt, piss, and beyond vinegar. Hydrochloric acid. Working for him, no wonder Maguire needed to drink.

Another Thursday night rolled around. Dave was bartending, and the crowd was light. Jake had chased Livie off for a couple hours to have dinner with a friend who was in town.

Jake set two steak dinners on the bar. “Pull up your stool and dig in.” He poured two cabernets and hitched himself onto the barstool. He winked. “No telling Olivia about the steak or the fries, right?”

Dave dug into the rare porterhouse, broccoli rabe, and steak fries between serving customers. The man could cook.

Jake had finished half his meal when he sighed and fixed his gaze on Dave. “I’ve been thinking. Olivia’s been on me to try new stuff. Nothing major to change the place, just good ideas for bringing in new customers. I heard you’re kinda handy with a guitar. Why don’t you bring it down next Friday night, and we’ll see if the folks like music with their drinks.”

A week from tomorrow? He hadn’t done a paying gig in over a year. Dave drew a long breath. “What kind of music? Rock, country, blues, oldies?”

Jake scratched his chin. “Hard to say. This has always been a drinking, talking, and eating joint. Sooo, I’d say, whatever that won’t put people off drinking, ruin their appetite, or put them to sleep, how’s that?” He grinned. “If they boo, it’s a no. If they clap and want more, it’s a keeper. Keep our options wide open.”

“Okay. One night.” Dave wanted to grab back his blurted words, but he held out his hand to Jake. Honestly, what would one night hurt?

Grinning broadly, Jake shook his hand. “Can’t wait to tell Olivia.”