Today, I’ve been a glorified gopher. I’ve been to the store at least four times to pick up items that someone forgot to get. Thank the gods that the women are good at giving me a list with specific items and even brand names when required.
I do know how to grocery shop, having taken a crash course in that after Lani passed. The kids weren’t little, but both Luke and Shelby were still living at home, at least part-time. So I’d like to think I can grocery shop with the best of them, but this baking stuff they are having me get is like speaking a foreign language. I mean, what in the hell is cream of tartar? It sounds like some weird soupy tartar sauce for fish, but apparently, it’s actually found with the spices. Who knew? I dropped off that and some other questionable ingredients for Jane just a minute ago. I just got back into my truck and am about to head out when my phone dings, announcing an incoming text.
Thomas: I thought I was being all prepared and ahead of shit. I finished shopping two days ago. Well, I thought I did, but Zaria is insisting on getting “her Mona” a gift. I know you both said no gifts, but you try to explain that to her.
Me: As her grandpa, I’m definitely not going to tell her no. I think the “no gifts” rule can be excused in that case.
Thomas: Yeah, but what in the hell do we get her? Zaria says it needs to be special, but I can’t get more than that out of her. This is the first girl besides Sis that she wants to pick out a gift for, and I have a feeling that if I pick the wrong thing, a tantrum might happen.
Me: Have her make Romona something. She doesn’t care about store-bought shit. She’s gonna be more touched by a picture Zaria drew or something like that.
Thomas: Well, that’s helpful and not at the same fucking time.
I can tell just by that response that this isn’t just about a gift.
Me: Something else on your mind, son?
Thomas: I broke things off with Effie. She was trying to mother the boys, and I overheard her trying to have Zaria call her mom. We’ve been dating for barely two months. Hell, we’vebarely been physical. I should’ve known something was up with her when Trent met her and didn’t like her from the start. He’s got a radar for the hidden crazies.
One of these days, he’s gonna come out and explain just how close he, Brett, and Trent are. Not that it matters to me, but you gotta wonder when they’re in their early thirties and still roommates. I know they started that way at eighteen when the boys were born, and their incubator of a mother took off. That’s someone whom I would be happy to invite to a club bonfire if she ever made an appearance again.
Me: She’s not going to cause you problems, is she?
Thomas: Nah, I think she’s more just a badge bunny who’s trying to tie herself to any officer in the county. Serves me right for dating someone at the hospital. You always said to stay away from the drama. I thought ‘cause she wasn’t a nurse, I was safe. Yes, I admit you were right, old man.
Me: Less of the old, son. Let me know if you need help with the gift.
Thomas: Will do.
God help my oldest. I swear, if he didn’t have bad luck with women, he’d have no luck at all. He’s a great dad and lawman,but his few relationships have been the kind that would have gotten excellent ratings onJerry Springeror that one show that always found out if the guy was the father. Hush, I know I’m showing my age, but you can’t tell me you knew exactly what his dating history was like just by that description. I rest my case. Luckily, unlike Jeremy, he hasn’t married any of them, so it’s been easier to break with them.
Back to my gophering today. It’s the first time I haven’t had someone waiting on something, so I think I might sneak home and wait for Romona. She was teaching a class at the local art gallery and meeting with them about doing a show at the beginning of the year featuring her latest pieces of work, but she should be home shortly.
You wouldn’t know it by looking at the sky, but it’s just after four in the afternoon, and it’s dark. This time of year, we barely see the sun, though nothing like up in Alaska.
I start my truck, pull out of the driveway, and start to head home when my phone rings. I see on my truck’s screen that it’s my brother. I hit the button to answer, and Jeremy speaks before I say anything. “I need you to get down to Commerce and Twelfth ASAP.” I roll my eyes at him, though he can’t see me. “You forget I’m retired. I don’t—”
Jeremy interrupts me. “Romona was attacked. Someone stopped it, but she’s a little banged up.”
My heart stops when I realize what he said. “I’ll be there as fast as I fucking can.”
Jeremy tells me he’s with her and she’s awake and alert. I put the gas pedal down and head toward town as quickly as I can. Fuck! I wish I had my lights and sirens right about now.Please let her be okay.
Taking the back way toward town, I shave off several minutes. Thankfully, I have a feeling Jer put out that I was rushing to the scene, because I passed a couple of cruisers on my way in. I’ll be damned if I slowed down at all. I turn onto Commerce and see lights and an ambulance parked near the gallery. I park next to the curb and barely turn the truck off before I jump out and head over to where I see Jeremy and Wyatt standing.
Romona
The last twenty minutes have been a blur. The last thing that made sense was that I had just wrapped up my class and had a quick conversation with Maya, the gallery owner, about my upcoming show. Her partner, Spruce, arrived and was helping her close up. I said my goodbyes and took the small canvas I had started on today with me. I know I walked maybe a block before some big asshole came up and demanded my purse. My mouthworked faster than my brain, and of course, I said something smart and denied his demand. Romona Johansen ain’t ever been accused of being easy inanysituation. Forget about self-preservation.
Back to the asshole. Whatever came out of my mouth was not the response he was looking for, because he backhanded me and tried to grab my bag. Since it’s December and it’s freezing outside, he slipped on the sidewalk and crashed down on top of me. I’m pretty sure the lug knocked the wind out of me for a moment.
I vaguely remember wrestling with him to keep my purse and get him off me. I yelled at the fucker, and they weren’t words that would’ve gotten me on Santa’s nice list. Just as he was getting the upper hand because he was a giant, and even with all the perimenopausal frustration in me, I was no match, he was shoved off me, and someone whacked him into unconsciousness. A commotion ensued, and Maya stood over me, looking worried. She helped me up, and I could see Spruce was helping someone after they checked that the asshole wasn’t getting up anytime soon.
Within a few minutes, a couple of the sheriff’s cars pull up, lights ablaze. A couple of deputies I didn’t know came out and started taking statements. They called for an ambulance for the asshole and to ensure I’m really okay. I know I’m gonna have a bump, but nothing is really wrong.
Jeremy shows up a few minutes later, takes one look at my cheek where the fucker smacked me, and makes a call. I don’t bother asking who he called because I know the answer to that.
Wyatt walked up to the scene, said he’d been over at the hardware store when he heard the commotion. I know he called Anna, so she’s either gonna show up here or at the house. She always has to see with her own eyes if someone is okay. She’s been that way since we were thirteen, and she had to make sure I really hadn’t broken my wrist falling off my bike. She’s the best kind of friend to have, but I definitely ain’t gonna tell her that. She’d get a big head and all if I did.
