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Carol pops her head out of the partition between the bar and the kitchen. “Coming right up. And, Hail? And whoever he is doesn’t deserve you.”
I groan as I walk to the tap and pour myself a New Glarus Wisconsin Belgian Red. My dad may be annoying the hell out of me, but I can’t knock the beers he chooses for the microbrew tap. I take a long drink and sigh as I set my beer down. I needed that.
Before I know what’s happening, Pops is pushing me toward a table with my gang of uncles following him. This is not going to be good. I try to head them off at the pass.
“How is a girlfriend like a laxative?” When no one takes the bait, I continue. “They both irritate the shit out of you.”
Barney gives me a high-five, but the others shake their heads with frowns on their faces. If an inappropriate joke can’t put a smile on their faces, I’m in trouble.
Carol plops a plate overflowing with fries down on the table, along with a smaller plate with a hamburger. “You need to get some meat on your bones,” she complains as she walks away.
Meat on my bones? Not going to happen. I’m one of those women who other women hate because I can eat whatever I want and not gain a pound. Of course, I also don’t have any boobs to speak of and my behind is as flat as an English lager. Apparently, the English don’t like head. Guess I won’t be dating an English man anytime soon then.
I bite into the burger and groan. I wasn’t lying. I’m starving. I never did get around to eating lunch after Suzie called me on my shit about Aiden. I look up and five sets of eyes are watching my every move. I cough and have to take a gulp of my beer before I choke.
“Are you guys planning to stare at me the entire time I eat?”
“It’s the only way we can make sure you’re eating,” Sid answers as if his answer is completely normal. It isn’t. I’m thirty-one. I can take care of myself.
Pops waits until I finish every last fry. Then, he stacks my plates on the next table and gives me the dad stare. You know the one – it makes you feel guilty even though seconds before you were convinced you were in the right.
I throw my hands in the air. “Fine! What do you want to know?”
“I want to know why you had the droopy face when I walked in,” demands Sid.
I do not have a droopy face. I could argue with them. Say I have no idea what they’re talking about or claim they’re making a big deal out of nothing, but it would be a complete and total waste of breath.
“I ran into someone from high school today.”
It suddenly sounds like a thunderstorm has arrived in the bar with all the growling the uncles are doing. Geez. Talk about overreacting.
“It’s not a big deal.”
“If it weren’t a big deal, you wouldn’t have the droopy face,” Pops says as he reaches over and massages my neck.
“Those high school boys were assholes to you. I couldn’t kick their asses then, but I sure as hell can and will now. Give me a name,” Lenny demands.
“I think not.” I shake my head. “He’s a cop. I don’t have enough bail money.”
“You think I’d get caught?” Lenny frowns. “Where’s the love?”
“I know you would get caught.” The word subtle is not in Lenny’s vocabulary.
“I’ll go with him,” Wally offers. Now, there’s a disaster waiting to happen. Wally is sneaky. He’s also secretive. I’m fairly certain he continued working for the government in a black ops kind of situation after he retired from the Army. I tried doing a background check on him once and it came up completely empty. If that doesn’t spell up to no good, I don’t know what does.
“I am not spending my Saturdays visiting my uncles in prison after they’re convicted of murder. You know what they do to cop-killers in prison, don’t you?”
Pops has had enough. “Tell me what happened,” he demands in the no-nonsense voice he reserves for when his patience is running thin.
I shrug. “Nothing happened. Like I’ve been saying.” I pause and look around the table. Judging by the raised brows, no one is buying the shit I’m shoveling. “Fine. He didn’t recognize me.”
“Oh, Babycakes.” Pops folds me into his arms while the rest of them pat me on the shoulder. “If he didn’t recognize what a beautiful, wonderful woman you are, he isn’t worth your time.”
“Don’t I know it,” I mutter and almost believe myself.
I can practically feel the tension leak out of my uncles. Thank goodness. The angry vibe in the air was giving me a headache.
“Who’s ready for me to kick their ass in pool?” Barney asks.
I giggle. “I bet you ten bucks I can run the table before you can pick up your cue.”
I’m full of it. Barney practically lives in the bar. If he’s not sitting around talking shit with his buddies, he’s playing pool. I don’t stand a chance, and I don’t care.
