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“Chuckie,” Lucas said, shaking the man’s hands.
“I go by Charles now,” he said, holding out a wrapped gift. “But I guess we can stick with Chuckie.”
“You’ll always be Chuckie to me,” Fester said, wearing clean clothes and with rare color to his skin.
“Fester,” Lucas said, shaking the older man’s hand. “Glad you could come.”
Lucas shook the last of the threesome’s hand. “Hey, Pete. How’s business treating you?”
“Busy, can hardly keep up. Had to hire another employee.” He slapped Fester on the back. “Fester was kind enough to come on board and help me out. Hope he stays on.”
Fester seemed embarrassed but at the same time self-conscious from the praise.
Chuckie spoke up, “Did you tell her we were coming?”
Lucas shook his head. “I didn’t. But I think it’s better this way.”
Lucas turned, caught Birdie’s attention, and her smile instantly vanished.
* * *
Birdie saton the overstuffed chenille chair as Lucas perched on the side with his arm supporting her back.
Chuckie and Pete sat across from her, sharing the details of what happened that fateful night, almost sixteen years ago.
Details she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. Until she did.
“So you’re both saying nothing happened?” She fidgeted in the chair, thinking the chain of events unlikely. “Two seventeen-year-old boys, sat in a bedroom with me while I was high on Molly and coke, and didn’t touch me.”
Chuckie looked at Pete. “Oh, we were doing things. Like holding you back and buttoning and zipping your clothes back on when you did your darnedest to take them off.”
“Why?” Birdie asked. “No one would’ve blamed you. I had a bad rep and was a…a sure thing.”
Pete looked disturbed by that comment. “Hey, I didn’t and don’t ever have sex with a woman without her consent. Especially when she’s been drugged without her knowledge.”
“You knew someone tampered with my drink?” Birdie asked.
Chuckie snorted, “Maisie told me you were…ripe for the picking. Said I could have my way with you if only to give her and Lucas time alone. I checked my parents’ stash and could see some of it was gone. Put two and two together, not a stretch given my upbringing and having seen my parents stoned on a number of occasions, and realized you had been targeted as an unwilling victim. So I yelled for Pete and asked him to help me out. I didn’t know if I could do it alone. Like you said, I was seventeen and had walked the school hallways with a semi for three straight years. I knew if Pete was there, aware of what was going on, we could keep each other honest. Do the right thing.”
Pete looked to Lucas. “Sorry we couldn’t do the same for you. Trust me when I tell you we had our hands full.” Leaning his elbows on his thighs, his fingers wrestled before him. “In hindsight, we probably should’ve called the police.”
Chuckie shook his head. “Maisie would’ve lied. It was my party, at my house, with easy access to my parents’ drugs. She would’ve pointed her finger at us. Made us the culprits.”
Pete blew out a rush of air, running his hand through his short hair. “Wow, glad we finally got to tell you the truth. I know it’s been weighing on my mind for years.”
“Mine, too,” Chuckie admitted.
Birdie looked up at Lucas, squeezing his hand. “You knew this?”
“Not until last night, when Chuckie came into town and I met up with him and Pete at the Whiskey House.”
Her eyes were teeming, the unshakeable regret and self-doubt from that night no longer sitting on her chest, causing her pain.
“Thank you,” she said, blinking as the tears spilled over. “Thank you for taking care of me that night and for telling me what happened.”
Chuckie stood, pushing down the legs of his jeans as Pete did the same, saying, “Welcome home, Birdie.”
* * *
