“No, but I should have.Now I’ve got no job, and they’re saying if I can’t pay the fine, they’ll send me to jail for thirty days for filing a false report.This is all your fault!”
Her logic makes absolutely no sense to me, but then again, it never did.But one part surprises me.
“What do you mean, you don’t have a job?”
“Fire marshal came back and shut us down for not taking care of the fire extinguishers and shit.Said it was a public safety issue and we didn’t fix it fast enough.Mama argued with him every which way, but it didn’t do any good.The Fishbowl is closed until further notice, and that’s all your fault too.”
I squeeze my eyes shut as a pang goes through me.I shouldn’t care because it’s part of my past now, but the Fishbowl has played such a big role in my life, so tied up with all my memories of my mama, it hurts to think of it being over.
Where will Earl and Pearl and Jim go?And when did Aunt Laurelyn get back?
And ...shit.What about the ring I hid in the bar?How am I going to get that back to Boone?
Shit.
“Hey, I need a drink, if you’re still workin’, lady.”A man waves a twenty in the air next to Brandy.
“Sorry, of course.What can I get you?”
“We’re not done here.You can’t just brush me off.You owe me.I need money.You should have to pay that fine, not us!”Brandy’s voice rises over the din, and the customer backs away from the bar.
Great.Just great.
Hope steps up beside me and crosses her arms over her chest.“She doesn’t owe you shit, Brandy, and you ain’t getting a dime from her.Now, get the hell out of my bar before I have security drag you out.”
“You’re a dried-up old cunt, Hope.You two deserve each other.”
Brandy shoves away from the bar and knocks over the drink of the person next to her—on purpose—before disappearing into the crowd.
Hope lays a hand on my shoulder.“You okay?”
My hands tremble, but there’s nothing I can do except lie and throw myself back into work.At least if I stay busy, I won’t have time to think about any of this.
“I’m totally fine.I got this.What can I get you, sir?”I ask the man who was waving the twenty when he steps back up to the bar.
“Seven and Seven.”
“On it.”
For the next hour, I lose myself in the mindlessness of serving drinks, making change, and running tabs, blocking out what Brandy said.Even if I wanted to pay the fine, the bar has already taken almost every cent I have.
When the thought enters my brain, I realize I’m going down the same exact path I’ve always gone—misguided family loyalty.I don’t owe them anymore.But habits like that can’t be broken overnight.Someone else waves a twenty at me, and I get back to work.
When the crowd finally thins around two thirty, I’m dead on my feet.
Hope calls a cab for someone whose liquor has gotten the better of him, and I cover her section of the bar.A man in a cowboy hat sits at the end, his head tilted down.
“Can I get you something, sir?”
The brim of the hat lifts to reveal Boone’s piercing blue eyes, and my mouth drops open.
“Seriously?”
He shrugs.“What?You don’t like my hat?”
“How long have you been here?”
“Long enough to see your cousin isn’t in jail.”