Page 18 of Apex of the Curve
“No shit? You? Going to any kind of trouble over a woman? This I gotta hear.” D.T. pulled his cane from the bracket built onto his bike and heaved himself into a standing position with a wince.
“I need alcohol for this story,” I grated, and he gestured with a sweeping hand to lead the way.
We went into Jules Maes. A lot of the local hipster scene and old barflies startled, straightening up when they realized a couple of Sacred Hearts had walked in. The bartender, a white chick in her mid to late twenties who was tatted and pierced to within an inch of her life, her long hair dyed a vibrant green and laying along her back in thick dreadlocks, called out, “Take a seat anywhere, I’ll come around to get your order.”
“Thank you, kindly,” Dump Truck said with a disarming smile. Little Bird wrapped both of her slender arms around one of D.T.’s and I jerked my head at a nearby booth. Dump Truck nodded and gave me the option of putting my back to the wall so I could keep an eye on the door and who was coming in.
“Thanks,” I grunted.
“I know you got me,” he said. I nodded, and we settled in.
“So, what’s the deal?” Little Bird asked, smiling faintly with good humor, kindness radiating from her lovely eyes.
“Took the words right out of my mouth, babe. How’d you and blondie in the pottery shop go about meeting up?” Dump Truck asked, raising his eyebrows high enough they met the swath of red bandana across his forehead, holding back his long hair and keeping it neat under his lid when we’d rode.
“Happened a week or two back,” I declared. “She came into Mitch’s place with a friend of hers. Friend hooked up with a couple of cowboy posers and left Aspen drunk as fuck and stranded without her phone or a ride.”
“That’s fucked up,” Little Bird uttered, and I smiled. We’d been a bad influence on her in a couple ways – her letting fly with the f-bomb regularly being one of them but then again, the girl had needed to loosen up some. She certainly hadn’t been in Kansas anymore once D.T. had picked her ass up from Vegas.
She’d been a good girl. It was kind of why I wanted to talk to them both. See if there was a chance worth taking when it came to Aspen for one, and for two, getting some kind of advice on how or if I should proceed.
“That’s just the tip of the iceberg.”
I told them everything, pausing only long enough to get our drink order in and once again when the bartender returned to serve it up.
“That’s… that’s a lot.” Little Bird leaned back against the high wooden booth back and gave me one long, slow blink.
“I don’t really know what to think,” I said. “About the dishes. Like, am I supposed to make the next move or was that like, the end – thanks but I never want to see you again kind of a thing? I just don’t know.”
“Yah got me,” Dump Truck said with a shrug of his massive shoulders.
“I figured if anyone would know, it’d be you with all the romance novels and bullshit you read.”
He laughed and gave me the finger from across the table, and I grinned savagely.
“I don’t think she knows what she wants.” Little Bird said. “I mean, it sure puts my situation into some perspective. I don’t even know how she’s standing after all of that! First her mom, then her brother, and I know her husband didn’t die but yikes! Talk about the icing on the cake! Her whole life went down in flames one thing right after the other, after the other, with no time to process.”
Little Bird looked like she had a fractured heartache going and it made me love her just a little more that she could feel so strongly a sense of empathy for someone she didn’t even know. She was a rare one, and she and my best friend just fit in a way I couldn’t begin to describe and as much as I wanted that for myself… I just didn’t know if it was meant to be. Not with some of the shit that I’d done.
“She’s had no time to process,” I agreed and traced a runic pattern with a fingertip in the spilled beer foam from my lager on the warm golden lacquered wood of our table.
“So, give her time,” Dump Truck said judiciously.
I gave him a dirty look. I mean, clearly, he was right but how the fuck long? I turned back to Little Bird who gave me an apologetic look and a little shrug.
Neither one of them had the answer I was looking for. I guess that made three of us.
“Mind helping me out sometime?” I asked her and she gave me a raised eyebrow.
“Like how?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” I said with a shrug. “Like go into the shop and feel things out in a few days or something?”
She smiled and said, “What, like you pay for a paint night for me, Marisol, and Dahlia?” she asked sweetly, and I scowled.
“Why you gotta bring those two into it?” I demanded. I liked ‘em both well enough but they were a couple of hard cases.
“Because they’re my friends and you’re asking me for the favor. You know I’m a lover not a fighter,” she said with a wink. “And I like to spread the love.”
