I find myself shaking my head with disbelief. I don’t know August enough to agree or disagree with what I’m hearing, but I don’t want to believe it. Plus, that woman in the parking lot seemed like she had a vendetta against August.
“His girlfriend could have been there, and you just didn’t see her,” I suggest.
“Nah, the same woman said she ran away before stepping foot toward the coffin. They were saying she didn’t want to see what she caused.”
Anger is rising within me, and I don’t have a good reason to feel this way. I guess they could be right, but if they’re not, they’re pushing August down a lonely road.
“Well, as it turns out, you can be the judge of who Keegan’s girlfriend truly is,” Annabelle says.
There is silence for a long moment, then Luke turns the corner, changed out of his black suit pants, now seeming content in his faded, worn jeans. “What are you blabbing about out here? How would I know her?”
“She’s the chick who has been drinking up all your whiskey every night,” I mutter, taking another sip of my soda. I grab a napkin, run it along my face, and toss it down to the counter in a crumpled ball. “Look, we shouldn’t be making assumptions. She could be a nice woman, and everyone has her pegged wrong.”
Luke shuffles his hand through his hair, loosening the slicked down strands. “Dude, no one said she was a psycho nut who forced her man to kill himself. Chill.”
“I know, I’m just saying. We shouldn’t assume.” Annabelle’s lips curl into a smirk as she wipes down the bar top.
I thought she was leaving.
“Oh man, oh man,” Luke says with a grin.
“What?” I ask.
“You’re smitten with this girl.”
“Okay, enough,” I tell them, pushing my stool out from the bar. The scrape from the chair’s legs moans against the uneven wooden floor. “Let’s have some respect. She just lost her boyfriend of however many years. I feel bad for her. I’m not in love with her. Hell, I don’t know anything about her.”
“But you think she’s pretty,” Annabelle adds in.
“How do you two go from talking about how this girl could have been the cause of her boyfriend’s suicide to me being in love with her? First, I’ve known her less than a week, and don’t you think I’d want to find out the truth before falling in love with someone tied to a rumor like we’re hearing?”
“Well, someone is on the defensive,” Luke says, pushing my buttons.
“All you have seen me do is offer help to a woman who looks troubled. If that’s too much for you to chew on, well then, so be it.”
“Chancey, relax. We’re just busting your balls,” Annabelle says. “Take a deep breath.”
“You two are one of a kind. You know that?”
“Now, don’t go calling me an ugly old fart,” Annabelle jokes.
“You’re both ugly old farts. Have a great rest of your day.”
“You too,” Luke calls after me as I walk out the door.
There’s no way August can be the person everyone is making her out to be. Although, someone like thatwouldprobably feel the need to drink her troubles away. I just didn’t see that type of anger in her eyes. It was a different kind of rage—irritation caused by pain.
Chapter Fourteen
August
The first feelingI have upon opening my eyes this morning isn't regret. It's just a question. How? "Keegan, how did you get from point A to point B without wondering what you were doing to yourself?"
No answer, as usual. There is never an answer.
Once again, my head is throbbing, my stomach feels hollow, my throat is dry, my tongue is like a piece of sandpaper, and I have to go to work.
Keegan was a landscaper. He had about twenty customers and tended to two or three a day. His income was sub-par, and his working hours were usually over by noon. Once upon a time, he wanted to open a restaurant, move us down to the Caribbean, and have what he referred to as "the best life." I was on board. I supported Keegan's dreams, desires, and goals. I did so until his problem grew to be bigger than his dreams.
