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Chapter 12: Straight Talk
Thursday night, Daphne pulled a Shiner Bock for Hank, who was sitting alone at the bar. He’d been in Sunday, Clarence had said, pounding a burger and half a dozen drafts before he’d stumbled out just before midnight. He’d come back Monday and Tuesday, same routine, according to Clarence. Tuesday, after they’d seen him with Janie, he’d sat alone at the bar all night. Clarence had cut him off and ten, gave him a few cups of coffee, and sent him home close to sober at midnight.
Tossing the bar rag over her shoulder, Daphne said, “How’s it going, cowboy? Glad you showed up. I need to ask you a favor.”
Hank took a drag from his beer. “What’s up, Daph?”
“I can’t make it to Paris this weekend with Daisy,” she lied. “Hymie needs me to work Saturday and Sunday. Can I tell her you’re gonna take her in your rig?”
Though Hank’s brow twitched, his face stayed impassive, giving away nothing. “Guess so, sure,” he said slowly.
“Hank, I gotta tell you: We went for milkshakes, and Daisy saw you and Janie out in the parking lot Tuesday night. It was about the worst timing ever. What the hell were you two doing?”
“Shoot, Janie was just upset, Daph. I promised Daisy I’d talk to her, and then I put it off. It’s just . . . Anyway, Janie knows how things are—or were—between Daisy and me.”
Daphne wiped down the bar, annoyed. “Were? Sounds like you’re shuttin’ down on my Daisy-chain, Hank Gallagher. It isn’t doing her any favors, and I can’t imagine it’s what you really want.”
“What I want doesn’t matter, Daph. I screwed up. There’s somebody out there that can take better care of Daisy than I have.”
Flicking the hot water on, Daphne pumped some soap, filling a bar sink to wash some glasses. “Hank, you beatin’ yourself up isn’t the kind of help Daisy needs right now. You guys are meant for each other, anybody can see that. She’s scared, too, you know, startin’ school with that long drive both ways each day. Her headaches are still coming too regular. You helpin’ to pick up the pieces and gettin’ on with it is what’s best for her.”
“Shit, Daph, you’re just makin’ me feel worse.”
“Well, you holdin’ back doesn’t protect her, Hank, it only hurts her more. No man can keep bad things from happening to the woman he loves. What could your Daddy do when your Momma lost Ryan?”
“Don’t go there, Daph. My father’s mean. He’s ugly, rotten to the core.”
“Maybe he is, but Red loves your Momma. And even ugly, rotten guys don’t want to see their wife losin’ their baby. What I’m sayin’ is, you want to keep Daisy in a bubble, keep her safe, that’s fine. That’s good, it’s way it should be. But every once in a while, that bubble’s gonna crack, just like eggs break, just like accidents happen, and you can’t take it too personal.”
“I didn’t. . ” Hank began, but Daphne cut him off. “The best thing you can do is figure out how to get Daisy back in that bubble, feelin’ safe again, quick as you can. You waitin’ around for another man to show up while my sister falls apart from missing you—you think I’m gonna let that happen? Hell, no, I’ll kick your ass from here to Dallas and back, you think I’m gonna stand by and let some inferior like T.J. take another shot at keepin’ Daisy miserable.”
Hank took a deep pull on his beer. Wiping the foam from his mouth with the back of a hand, he said, “What I’ve come to realize is I’m just not the man for the job, Daphne Antelerone.”
Daphne shoved glasses on the brushes, slapped them in the rinse water, and hung them to dry. “That’s bullshit, Hank Gallagher, and the faster you figure that out, the better. Who else knows how to make my sister happy the way you do?”
Pushing his beer back, Hank shook his head. “Look, I have no idea. All I know is that I came down here for some liquid relief or some liquid courage or something, and instead what I’m getting is a ration of crap.”
Quick as a lightning bolt, Daphne was over the bar, twisting a fistful of Hank’s t-shirt. She pulled it tight, until she was just inches from his face. Dropping her voice low, she looked him square in the eye. “Don’t you dare suggest that it’s me who’s full of shit, buddy. I watched the way you swept my sister off her feet. Before the accident, you had her as happy as I’ve ever seen her. . . And that light, that only you can put in her eyes? That light’s been gone these past weeks, Hank. She just lost her daddy, she coulda lost her nerve, and now she thinks she’s losin’ you.”
Daphne twisted the collar of his shirt tighter. “You might think you’re doin’ your duty by her, taking care of Gypsy and the chores and trainin’ Lucky, offering up that giant settlement, but you’re not really rising to the occasion, buddy—you’re not givin’ it your best. I know you’re capable of the good stuff, and my sister deserves your best, you hear me? You can try to pretend it’s another man’s job, but I’m not buying it. It’s way too late in the game to cop out. It’s your job, Hank Gallagher. You took it on the first time you pulled her pants down, and don’t you dare tell me any different.”
Hank’s jaw dropped. “Daphne, I. .”
Daphne’s eyes were real narrow and mean. “Shut up, Hank. I’m outta patience with you. You get over to our place tomorrow before noon, get my sister loaded up with that Lucky horse, and you hustle off to Paris and have some fun this weekend, got that? And when you come back Sunday night, I’ll be down here tendin’ bar, so you just go on in and cuddle up to Daisy like you did those other nights I wasn’t around, because I want to see a smile on my sister’s face on Monday morning, and I want to know you busted your ass to put it there, you understand me?”
She let go of his shirt, and as Hank absorbed her message, relief washed over him. “Hell, Daph, means a lot that you still trust me with Daisy. I’m having trouble believing she could ever trust me again. It’s not justified, I just don’t deserve it, having Daisy.”
Daphne shook her head, and her voice was quiet, eyes concerned. “Daisy never stopped trusting you, Hank. You just need to start trusting yourself. In everyone else’s eyes, you’ve got the world by the balls, so stop punishing yourself and start trusting again. Daisy loves you. I never saw people made for each other the way you and Daisy are. You’ve been two peas in a pod from the time you were five years old. Your Ma knows it, and Buck saw it, too—he was real tickled, the way you two got on back when.”
Hank wiped his eyes, smiling past the emotion that had welled there. Voice rough, he took Daphne’s hand and squeezed it tight. “Thanks for shaking me up, Daph. I promise I’ll do right by her, if she still wants me.”
Daphne flashed a knowing grin. “She wants you, alright. I wish there was someone in my life I felt about the way Daisy feels about you.” Leaning over, she kissed his cheek. “Don’t forget her birthday’s comin’, August twenty-fifth. Make it a good one, Hank, huh? Make it a birthday she remembers.”
