HARRY
If there wasone question I’d heard a thousand times, it was this—
“Why haven’t you found yourself a nice wife yet? You’re such a wonderful man.”
I laughed off the question—as I had done a thousand times before—and climbed out from under old Mrs. Abernathy’s sink, stretching a few twitches and aches out of my bulky frame before wiping my wet hands down the front of my hardware store apron. “Well, the new strainer should stop the leak. I’ve also replaced the rubber gaskets and tightened the washers on the trap, so with any luck…” I turned the kitchen faucet, ran the water, and bent low to check the pipes underneath weren’t leaking at all. “There you go. Good as new.”
“I can’t thank you enough,” said Mrs. Abernathy. “I called Handy Andy, but he was too busy to come out. Something about a trip to Eau Claire to pick up some fancy tequila his son likes. Did you know Dean arrives back in town tomorrow? You know Dean, don’t you?”
At the very mention of Dean’s name, I anxiously twisted a crick out of my neck. “Yeah, I know Dean. I’ve been best friends with Andy since we were kids.”
Mrs. Abernathy didn’t seem to bother listening to my answer. “Of course you know Dean. The whole world knows Dean. I have a teenage granddaughter in Indianapolis who’s absolutely obsessed with him and his music. Apparently, she’s planning on having his babies.”
“Oh! Wow! I guess we all need goals in life.”
“I don’t blame her. He’s turned into something of a dreamboat, wouldn’t you say? He’s no longer that shy, skinny little boy who used to stand on Main Street Bridge playing his guitar and busking for pocket money.”
“No, he ain’t. Anyway, if there’s nothing more I can help you with, I best be on my way.”
“Oh, but of course.” Mrs. Abernathy picked her clip purse off the kitchen counter and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. “Here, take this for your troubles.”
I waved a hand at the money. “No, please. I’m just happy to help.”
“But I insist.” With a mischievous wink, Mrs. Abernathy tucked the cash into the string of my apron as though I was a stripper.
“Oh! Well, thank you. But why don’t I just add it to your store tab.”
“You’ll do nothing of the sort. Just don’t spend it all at once,” she advised, sneaking a firm pat on my ass to seal the transaction.
I flinched, but Mrs. Abernathy didn’t seem to notice. A happy, faraway look came over her face. “You know, I once felt the same way my granddaughter feels about having a rock star’s babies. Not Dean, of course. No, I was madly in love with the great Liberace. What a ladies’ man he was. A real tiger, wouldn’t you say?”
Yikes, where was this going?“I should probably get out of your way now,” I said, quickly packing up my tools.
Mrs. Abernathy looked lost in happy thoughts. “All those rings of his,” she purred. “If only he’d have put one on my finger.”
“You have a lovely evening now, Mrs. Abernathy. I can see myself out.”
“The way he tinkled those keys. I’d have let him play ‘Chopsticks’ on me any day.”
She was still in the kitchen, romanticizing about Liberace’s tinkling fingers when I made my escape, quietly creeping to the front door—pausing by the hallstand to tuck the twenty-dollar bill under a porcelain figurine of a rosy-cheeked young boy stealing a kiss from a rosy-cheeked young girl—before making my hasty departure.
Outside the spring air was still warm even as the sun sank toward the west.
I piled my toolbox into the back of my truck, slipped off my apron and threw it onto the passenger seat, then climbed in behind the wheel and started the ignition before Mrs. Abernathy had time to realize I was gone.
There was no point heading back to the hardware store at this hour. I’d left Gage and Old Walt to close up shop and was more than happy to call it a day. Besides, it was Friday—among other things—which meant poker night with the boys at Andy’s. No doubt Andy had picked up the usual case of beer while he was out hunting for Dean’s new favorite tequila.
“Tequila? Really?” I mumbled to myself.
Since when did Dean drink tequila?
Not that I would know the answer to that. Dean was barely legal drinking age. It wasn’t as though Dean and I even had a chance to share a drink before fame swept him off to Los Angeles.
“Tequila, huh? I guess that’s what LA does to a guy.”
Me, I wasn’t a fan of tequila myself.
I was a simple man with simple tastes.
