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Chris carries a white plastic bag from out of the kitchen and sets it on the bar beside my beer.
“Piping hot,” he says. “Expect your tongues to melt.”
“Perfect,” I say.
“We’ll take the check,” the cop says.
“Taking off so soon?” Chris says. “Next beer was gonna be on me.”
“Next time,” Mary says, finishing her Stella. “Martin and I are on the way to the Emergency Room. Aren’t we, Martin?”
“We are?” I say. “Chris is buying.”
Listen,” she says, slipping into her leather jacket and grabbing her purse, “you not only passed out today, you took a serious blow to the back of your head.”
“Jeeze, Martin,” Chris says, “you live quite the violent life for a writer.”
“It’s not as bad as you think,” I say, finishing my second beer and wishing we were sticking around for the third.
“Head injuries are nothing to fuck around with, Martin,” the cop says. “You could be bleeding inside your skull right now and not even realize it. That is until tomorrow when you stroke out or even die from a bad hematoma. Now don’t argue with me please.”
I slip off the stool.
“I’m well aware of the potential trouble a bad head injury can cause in the short and long-term, Officer,” I say. Then, shifting my eyes to Chris. “Well, I guess we’ll take the check, Chris man.”
“I’d take Mary’s advice, Martin,” Chris says while ringing us up on his computerized cash register. “She’s a state trooper. She probably knows a lot more about head injuries than you do. Plus, you’ve been drinking. If I’d known you and a baseball bat made love today, I wouldn’t have served you those Jamesons.”
He hands us the bill.
“Ignorance is bliss, Chris,” I say. Then, grinning. “See what I did there? I’m a poet and you know it.”
“Ha ha, bestseller,” the cop says.
She looks at me like she’s expecting me to pull out my wallet. But she knows me well enough by now when I’m out of cash. That said, she reaches inside her purse for a white envelope. From experience I know the envelope contains a certain amount of cash her elderly husband dishes out to her on a weekly basis, not like he’s a husband at all, but her stepdad. Hell, maybe he is her stepdad. She places a Benjamin on the bar.
“Keep the change, Chris,” she says.
“Mighty generous,” he says with a smile. “Now go get that noggin’ checked out, Martin. Keep in mind, without a properly working brain, you are effectively out of business.”
Dude’s got a point. Note to self: pay more attention to those around you who care for you and your well-being.
We head out the door. Just as we’re headed to the pickup, another car pulls up beside us. It’s my friends and good Samaritans, Jenny and Matthew. He stops the engine and opens the door.
“Hey, Martin, fancy meeting you here,” says the wiry young man, a broad smile on his clean-shaven face.
Jenny gets out. With her blonde hair pulled back in short braids and fresh, tight-fitting t-shirt, she looks cute as hell. But young and married, or so I keep reminding myself.
“Hi, Martin,” she says. “I figured you’d still be banging out the daily word count even if the sun is setting.”
“I like to put in a healthy word count,” I say. “But not that healthy. In fact, we’re on our way to the E.R. to get my head examined.”
It’s supposed to be a joke, but no one laughs.
“Oh no,” Matthew says. “I hope you didn’t pass out again.”
“Not at all,” I say.
“Martin doesn’t like doctors,” the cop breaks in. “He’s afraid that once they start doing tests on you, you fall into a bottomless rabbit hole of testing and poking around.”
I introduce Mary to my two new friends.
“Mary, we’d love to have you come for dinner tomorrow night,” Jenny says coming around the front of the car. “Martin, you didn’t mention you had a significant other. Especially one so pretty.”
“Unfortunately, guys,” Mary says, “I can’t make it. I have a house upstate and that’s where I end up most weekends.”
“How come you don’t go with her, Martin?” Matthew says.
Mary and I exchange glances.
“It’s um, complicated,” I say.
“Let’s just leave it at that,” Mary says with a wink.
Matthew nods.
“You’re married aren’t you, Mary?” Jenny breaks in with a sly grin. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with us.”
“But we do love one another,” I interject. “It’s just that Mary thinks that if she leaves the much older man in his frail state, it will kill him. Therefore...”
“Say no more,” Matthew says. “Now go get your head examined.”
“Funny,” I say. “That’s what my ex-wife used to always tell me.”