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Petra tried to think of something to say, something befitting the end of what had been one of the most important relationships in her life. Complicated and sometimes painful, but always necessary.
But she was tired, and her head was full of so much already. Her heart hurt so much already. There just wasn’t anything left.
“Okay,” she said. “Good luck.”
For a few more seconds, Dre stood there. Petra could feel Jake’s tension mounting, but he stayed quiet. Was Dre waiting for something? Had they expected a different response from her? She couldn’t focus enough to entertain the question.
Then, with a brusque nod, Dre turned away. As they headed back in the direction they’d come from, they paused to speak to friends. Offering more goodbyes.
Petra took a breath and found a sliver of focus. “I need to get to the bar.”
“Come on,” Jake said, bringing her hand to his mouth for a kiss. “My folks will take us.”
That reminded her of a thing she’d wondered. “Are the Bulls all coming to Gertrude’s?”
“Yeah. Of course.” His brow wrinkled. “Do you not want them to?”
“They are very much invited. Do they know where they’re headed?” She found herself smiling again.
He smiled, too. “Babe, a few lesbians are not gonna scare ‘em off. We’re not the cavemen you seem to think we are.”
And Jake himself was evidence of that. The proprietor of a lesbian book bar should probably know better than to judge a book by its cover.
“Okay. We better get over there, then.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Jay had spent a fairamount of time at Gertrude’s lately. He’d seen it at its most crowded and he’d seen it empty. He’d been in the back, the front, the basement, even in the apartment on the floor above. He’d come to understand how it worked as a ‘book bar,’ when it was most like a bookstore and most like a bar, and when it balanced those two identities most evenly. He knew Petra’s bar as well as he knew Petra herself.
Yet today, the place seemed completely different. Not a bar, not a bookstore. For her father’s wake, Petra’s business had become something else.
There wasn’t any kind of décor that marked it as different, unless you counted the preponderance of black clothing. They’d pushed several four-top tables together to make a buffet for the casseroles and muffins and other dishes people had brought, and a lot of people stood around with disposable plates and cutlery in their hands, but that was the main change. Gertrude’s looked like Gertrude’s. Yet it seemed entirely different.
It seemed like a home, maybe.
The place was full of people who cared about Petra. Almost none of her father’s friends or associates had attended his funeral; everyone who’d come had come for her. This wake was not about remembering the man who’d killed himself. It was about supporting the daughter he’d left behind.
A lot of the same people that filled the bar on Saturday nights were here today as well. But there were also people from all the other aspects of Petra’s life. Standing here watching her interact with these people, watching them step up and help out, or offer her a kind word or a hug, Jay understood how deep and rich her life was.
She had bar friends and dance friends and art friends. People from the neighborhood business group were here. Neighbors at her apartment were here. All these people who maybe, like Jay, had never met her father had set aside this day to be present for Petra.
Not to mention just about the entire Brazen Bulls family. All the patches, most of the old ladies, quite a few of the older kids. They were here for him, but by extension that made them here for Petra. Because they’d already embraced her as family.
It gave him a warm, achy feeling deep in his chest to see how quickly and completely the Bulls had pulled Petra in. It madehimfeel more secure, too. He hadn’t a chance to unpack that feeling yet. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. Maybe understanding it would diminish it in some way.
