“I have my moments.” Aubry smiled, and this time there was no coyness to it.
“You’re really easy to talk to. That ex of yours really lost out.”
Aubry flushed and smoothed out a wrinkle in her skirt. “Thanks for saying that.”
I chuckled. “I don’t usually go around telling my business to random people.”
She shared my laugh. “Well, I’m a psych major so there’s that.”
“Are you shitting me?”
When she shook her head, I laughed again. “Classic.”
She gave me a serious look. “Can I give you some advice though?”
“As long as I don’t have to pay for it, Dr. Aubry.”
“You should tell her how you feel.”
I rubbed my chest, feeling the thick ridges of my scars through the flannel. “Yeah. Someday.” But not today. Definitely not today.
Aubrey pressed her black lips together. “Someday isn’t guaranteed. Today might be all you have.”
I tried to lighten the mood. “Now you sound like a true therapist.”
Tears gathered in her eyes.
Crap. “I’m guessing you speak from experience.”
She nodded. “I lost my mom back in April. Canine flu.”
It was my turn to say, “I’m sorry.”
She sighed. “Mom hated Damon. She didn’t like that he was kind of married.”
“Kind of married?”
She gave me a sheepish look. “I know. It sounds bad, but it’s a long story. Anyway, Mom and I had a bad fight about him. I knew we’d eventually make up. We always did. But I kept putting off calling her…” Her voice grew tight. “I never got the chance to tell her she was right, and that I loved her.”
“I’m sure she knew.”
Aubry sniffed and wiped her eyes. “Don’t be like me. Don’t wait for someday.”
“Okay. Can I give you some advice too?”
She tilted her head to the side, “Sure.”
“Give my friend Dexter a chance. He’s a good guy.”
She laughed. “Why not? You said he was in the kitchen?”
“Yup.”
The bed undulated beneath her as she pushed herself up. “Damn, this would be fun to screw on. Are you sure you won’t reconsider?”
I shook my head, apologetically.
“Your loss.” She sashayed over to the door and opened it. Before stepping out, she whirled around. “Just so you know, I would have totally rocked your world.”
“I know you would have.”
Flashing me another smile, she left.
For a fleeting moment, I wanted to run after her and drag her back into my room.
Aubry wasn’t turned off by my scars, and she seemed to get me in a way most people didn't. Furthermore, unlike Lee, she wanted to bone me.
And what did I do? I sent her right into the arms of my friend.
I’m such an idiot. Groaning, I strode to the door and rejoined the party I already wished was over.
8
Lee
“Is there a problem?” a familiar gravelly voice said behind me.
I spun around. The sight of Uncle Duncan grimacing at the sex shop owner had me releasing a tense breath. “I thought you’d left.”
My uncle gave me an apologetic look. “Sorry, I was just picking up some smokes. Is this guy botherin’ you?” His hand rested on the holstered revolver he always carried.
Cal’s gaze darted from me to Uncle Duncan. He shifted his grip on the shotgun as if nervous the silver-haired, mustached cowboy would start shooting.
“Cal was just making sure I made it to the street safely.” I turned to the bug-eyed sex shop owner. “Thanks for your help.”
Cal nodded. “I’ll check out the alley for you.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I knew all he’d find there was some fake blood.
I so owe Jess for this.
“Better safe than sorry,” Cal said, marching into the alley.
Uncle Duncan shook his head. “Interestin’ friends you have.” He offered me his arm, and I let him escort me across the street. The familiar smell of stale cigarette smoke clinging to his fringed leather jacket calmed me with every breath I took.
As we walked to the liquor store, I noticed his limp was more pronounced than usual. I started to ask if his prosthetic was hurting. Thankfully, I caught myself in time. My uncle was sensitive about his lost limb.
When we were kids, he’d told Eden, Reed, and me he’d lost his left leg in a grizzly bear attack. After a while, his story changed to include a ferocious shark, and then later his leg became the casualty of a light saber battle. It wasn’t until I was older that I’d learned he’d lost it in the Vietnam War. Thankfully, an unknown soldier had shoved my uncle off a land mine before he’d lost more than a limb.
A car filled with rowdy college-age men nearly ran us over as it peeled into the liquor store parking lot.
Uncle Duncan and I gave them matching one-finger salutes. The all-too-familiar interaction relaxed me further.
It was just an average Thursday night. Sure, half the bars and clubs on Fourth Avenue were boarded up, casualties of the economic effects of the canine flu. But the sky was alive with helicopters flying to the nearby army base, and people were cheering inside the pool hall down the street.
When we reached the liquor store parking lot, Uncle Duncan moved ahead of me to open the passenger door of his rusted-out white truck.
Wanting to get home and forget about my hellish evening, I eagerly jumped in. The inside of the truck carried the lingering scent of wet dog. With a pang of sadness, I glanced into the backseat and saw Buddy’s plaid blanket still laid out for him. The old black lab had been Uncle Duncan’s trusty companion for years. It was heartbreaking that he’d had to be put down like all the other dogs.
My uncle walked around the front of the truck and eased into the driver’s seat.
I bit my lip, stifling the offer to drive. The last time I’d suggested it, the old man had chewed me out, insisting he’d been driving with his peg leg longer than I’d been alive.
As Uncle Duncan pulled out of the parking lot, he cast me a reprimanding look from under the brim of his hat. “I wish you’d quit strippin’. You’re too smart for that kinda thing.”
I stiffened, readying myself for the lecture that was sure to come. “We need the income.”
“I’ve done told you a thousand times, I’ll help you kids out.”
I shook my head, thinking of the paltry sum of VA disability money he received a month. It was barely enough to cover his lot at the trailer park. “Keep your money. We’ll get by.”
“Goddamn it. You Walker women are so stubborn. Your Gran was the same way and your mother…” His voice trailed off.
We never talked about my mother. Ever.
I clutched my purse to my chest, wishing I could remember more about her. Time had eroded my memories of her face and the sound of her voice.
Uncle Duncan continued driving in pensive silence. Soon bars and clubs gave way to run-down apartment complexes and college housing. The next turn brought us to my neighborhood.
The sight of weed-filled yards and old cars up on cinder blocks was depressing. One day we’d earn enough money to move somewhere nicer. Until that day, I’d just have to grit my teeth and—