I began to carefully draw in a script font for the dates he’d given me. “At least his kid gets his mother back.”
“Pfft,” Mike scoffed. “Kid’s no fool. He knows what she is. Can you believe she’s even living in Bruce’s house ’cause she got no place else to go?”
“No shit. Sounds like one of those soap operas on television.”
“You know it. She’d been running around all that time with different guys and even had another kid. And of course, Bruce, being a good guy, sick as he was, took them both in and treated them good.”
“Nice you kept in touch.”
“We’d send Christmas cards and stuff like that and ran into each other at the yearly memorial. But I saw how sick he looked the last time, so I kinda knew which way the wind was blowin’… He didn’t wanna talk about it, so I left it alone. Eventually the cards stopped comin’.”
But I could see the guilt and sadness in his eyes. “It wasn’t your fault, Mike. There wasn’t anything you could do.”
With his free hand, he wiped his eyes. “’Cept be a better friend. I shoulda pushed harder to see him. He gave his all for us.”
Finished with outlining the design, I set the instrument down. “Listen. You did all you could. Maybe he didn’t want you to see him like that. And he had his son. They were close?”
Mike cleared his throat. “Yeah, very. I only met him once, the last time Bruce was able to make it to the memorial. Seemed like a nice kid—he’d just started college.”
“You wanna finish it all today, or take a break and come back to color the eagle in?”
Mike checked out my work, which I had to admit was pretty damn good. “I like it. Let’s finish it up today. I got time.”
“Okay.” I had the colors all set up, and a little more than two hours later, his arm was done and wrapped for protection.
“Looks great, Keston. Thanks again.”
“I agree. Came out nice. Cool tribute to your friend.” Even though he’d been to the shop numerous times, I handed him the aftercare instruction sheet. He paid me and left.
Ambrose had finished with his client and strolled over to me. I folded my arms. “So when are you moving to Florida?”
He made a face. “I told you, man. I’m not leaving. Yeah, the house was awesome, but we can’t afford it, number one, and number two, it’s too damn hot there. Plus, fucking alligators.Did you know they have a highway named Alligator Alley?” He grinned, and despite myself, I returned his smile.
“No shit.”
“I’d never fuck you like that, dude.”
Relieved that we’d cleared the air, I checked my watch. “Wanna order lunch? My treat.”
“Yeah, sure, thanks.”
“Tacos?” At his nod, I called out to Jodi. “Hey, Jo, want some lunch? We’re ordering tacos.”
“You bet. I’ll never turn down a taco.”
The food came and we dug in, but my appetite had waned. I couldn’t get the conversation with Mike out of my head. Everyone had a story in this city, and these walls had heard plenty. I remembered when Carlos was killed. Shellshocked, I’d walked around the shop for hours, unseeing, hearing but not listening to all the people who came in to pay their respects.
At the nudge to my side, I jerked to awareness and saw Jodi’s sparkling eyes.
“Thinking about someone special?” she teased.
I knew whom she was referring to, but she needed to cut that shit out.
“Yeah. Carlos.” Maybe my answer was harsh, but I didn’t want to talk and figured that would shut it down. I crumpled my wrappings and tossed them into the garbage.
Her face fell and her lips trembled. “I-I’m sorry, Keston.”
“Not your problem.” I checked the schedule. “Gonna take a walk. Be back in a few.”
