Come to think… it makes perfect sense.
“I asked you a question. What the fuck did you just do?”
“Nothing.” Michael is quick to answer, and he appears to be a little frightened of his big, bad uncle.
“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me, boy.”
Michael points a shaky finger at my face. “Shedropped it.”
I shake my head as I attempt to defend myself. “No… I––”
Nate holds his hand up. “I saw the whole fuckin’ thing. I also heard what you said to her. Apologize.”
“For which part?”
Nate growls.
“Fine.” Michael looks at me. “Sorry about breaking that ugly thing and for calling you fat.”
“Natalie.” He addresses the girl. “Get your mother.”
“Okay, Uncle Nate.” She skips off toward the other side like nothing happened.
The three of us are silent, staring at one another. I know I need to clean up the glass before someone cuts themselves, so I make my way to the register to retrieve the dustpan and brush. When I get back to the scene of the crime, Nate takes the brush and pan from me and holds it out to Michael. “Clean it up.”
“Jesus.” The juvenile delinquent groans.
Nate growls, “That’s coming out of your allowance.”
He gives the kid an allowance?
“Bullshit,” Michael grumbles.
“What’s the matter now, Nate?” The woman, mother, of these three whines as she approaches.
He points to Michael and the glass on the floor. “You’re paying for this shit, Carla.” He glares at me like I’m responsible somehow. “How much was it?”
I should lie and say it’s twice as much as it is, but I can’t do that. “One fifty.”
“A hundred and fifty bucks?” Nate expression shifts from anger to shock. “For that ugly piece of glass?”
“That ‘ugly glass’ is handblown.”You jerk.
“Fuck.” He runs a hand through his hair.
You know something… I’ve just noticed. He’s got great hair. It’s cut short on the sides, but it’s longer and slightly wavy on the top. My focus, to date, has been on his beard, but now I see his dark brown locks appear to be quite thick and shiny. The silver at his temples has me estimating him in his forties. Plus it gives him a distinguished air. It’s too bad he’s such an ass. He’d be good looking if it weren’t for that.
He looks up at the ceiling like he’s got to gather himself.
I know the feeling.
When his head drops back down, he’s glaring at Carla. “How many times do I gotta tell you to keep an eye on these little assholes?”
That’s not a nice thing for an uncle to say except I couldn’t agree more with his assessment.
He points his thumb at the kids. “I’m sick and tired of getting calls from business owners in town complaining about how you let them run wild.”
“Oh, fuck off, Nate.” She tries to turn and leave, but Nate’s hand is on her shoulder. “I’m talkin’ to Dave. I’m over dealing with your bullshit.”
