Blacktop Freedom Page 3

  “Are we going to do this today?” he drawled.

  I scoffed and finished filling the lunch slot with the pills, then snapped the lid onto the bottle and grabbed the next one. “I don’t know what you are talking about, Dad.”

  That was a lie. I knew what he was talking about. We hadn’t argued about his twelve-year addiction to booze and pills for at least six months. Normally, we were able to go about six or seven months without a word about it. Then we would have a blowup and I would go back to acting like nothing was wrong or bothering me.

  It was a fucked-up cycle that I wanted to break, but I just couldn’t get over it. Again, I knew exactly what I needed to do and say to get over it, but I just couldn’t fucking do it. Some therapist I was.

  “I’m sorry for what I did, Lynn. I’ll keep saying it ‘til the day you can accept it.”

  “You don’t need to apologize again, Dad.” I grabbed the next bottle and twisted off the lid. “My problem isn’t your problem to deal with. I need to get over it.” Again, easier said than done.

  “Anything that has to do with you has to do with me.”

  If only he had felt that way all those years ago. He had missed out on a huge chunk of me growing up because he hadn’t been able to handle Mom’s death without a bottle in his hand or pills in his mouth.

  I had raised Steph. For the first twelve years of her life, I had been the one who was always there for her. Not our mom or dad. Not like it was Mom’s fault that she wasn’t there, but if things would have gone differently the day Steph was born, I firmly believed my life would have been vastly altered and better.

  “You’re going to need your metformin refilled this week. I’ll call the pharmacy and get it filled.” I dropped a pill in each morning and supper time slot. “If Steph can’t get to the pharmacy to pick it up, let me know, and I’ll grab it on my way home from work.”

  “I can get them.”

  I didn’t say anything. Of course, Dad would get it because Steph would be too busy doing whatever the hell it was she did.

  Growing up, Steph and I had been super close, but once Dad got sober, the fact I took on the mother role for her didn’t sit well anymore. Once I saw that Dad was back on track, I moved out, and Steph and I grew farther and farther apart. Now that she was twenty, living in her own loft, I only saw her on holidays or birthdays. I should be the bigger person and try to bridge the gap between us, but I was sick of being the bigger person. Everyone else got to be petty and think of only themselves. Maybe it was my turn to start acting like that.

  As if I could be that selfish. I was always thinking of everyone else and never about myself.

  “You know I don’t like you driving around. I can get them.”

  Dad sat back in his chair and huffed. “Pretty sure I just drove myself here with no problem.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I wonder how many scared children in crosswalks and scuffed parked cars you left in your wake?”

  He wagged his fingers at me. “How many times do I have to tell you that parked car was not there when I looked?”

  I shook some pills into my hand. “Because parked cars appear out of nowhere all of the time.”

  “They do, just like kids run into the road without looking where they are going.” He folded his arms over his chest. “Even the officer knew I wasn’t at fault that time. Besides, I was quick enough to avoid hitting the kid and just cracked one of those huge flower pots they have over at the park.”

  “A flower pot that is almost a hundred feet off the road, Dad. It was like you swerved to avoid the kid and decided you would just keep driving on the playground.”

  “The brake stuck.”

  He was so defensive because he knew I was right. I had talked to the officer. He had told me I might want to see if Dad was even capable of being behind the wheel anymore.

  “If the brake was stuck, you would have stopped!” I couldn’t tell you how many times Dad and I had gone back and forth about this. Four months ago, he had been driving to the DMV to renew his license and had a run-in with a ten-year-old, the kid's mother, and a huge flower pot. Since then, I hated the idea of him driving. He was well into his seventies, and his reflexes were nowhere near what they used to be. His vision either.

  “It was stuck to where I couldn’t press it!” he shouted back.

  I held up my hand. “We are not going to go over this again. I’m going to finish up your pills, and then, you are going home. I’m getting a headache and need a nap.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t be staying out all night with a biker, and you wouldn’t be needing a nap.”

  And this was when Dad pissed me off. He couldn’t stand to be my dad when I actually needed him to be, so when he decided he would take it upon himself to actually act like a parent now, it really ground my gears.

  I glared at him and forcefully dropped the pills in my hand in their correct slot. “Because I’m always out, right, Dad? Drinking and hanging out with friends ‘til five in the morning? Disappearing for days to leave my kids all alone?” I pursed my lips. “I think you must be confusing your younger years with me.”

  “Low blow, Lynn,” he growled.

  It was, and it felt great to say it. “Yeah, it sure is, Dad.” I quickly finished the rest of his pills and snapped the compartment shut. Then I gathered all the pill bottles and dropped them into the plastic grocery bag he had brought them over in. “You’re good for another week. I’ll grab your prescription on my way home from work on Tuesday.” I stood and held out the bag to him.

  He grabbed the pillbox and slowly stood. “I’ve said sorry time and time again, Lynn. I can’t go back in time and change things.”

  He couldn’t, and neither could I. Years of resentment were pent up in me, and I had no idea how to get rid of it. “I’ll be over Tuesday night. I’ll bring lo mien and egg rolls.”

  That would give me two days to bury back my anger, and things would go back to normal. In the end, I may be pissed as hell at him for being a shit dad for the first twenty years of my life, but he was still my father.

  He grabbed the plastic bag. “I’ll see if Steph can make it for dinner, and I’ll get the food delivered.”

  I nodded stiffly. She wouldn’t be there. He asked her to come over every Sunday, and every Sunday, she had something else to do. At this point, I would be shocked if she actually showed up. “Sounds good.”

  He reached out and squeezed my shoulder. “Don’t work too hard this week, Lynn. Save some time for yourself. You can’t save everyone.”

  I didn’t say anything. If I did, it would only make the fight we just had even worse. “Let me know when you get home.”

  He nodded sadly. “Love you, Lynn.”

  “You, too.”

  He sighed and ambled toward the front door. “One day, you’re gonna say it, Lynn. I just hope I’m alive to hear it,” he shouted. The door clicked shut behind him, and I sucked in a breath.

  I closed my eyes and willed the tears to remain at bay.

  I loved Dad. Never stopped. Even on the days where he disappeared without a word and then popped back in as if he hadn’t abandoned his children, I loved him.

  I just couldn’t make myself say it to his face.

  That was how I punished him for the twelve years where he wanted to be anywhere but with Steph and me.

  Maybe when he was twelve years sober, I would tell him I loved him. Tit for tat, right?

  I opened my eyes, and the tears rained down my cheeks.

  That was the thing I hated about love.

  You couldn’t turn it off. No matter how much someone hurt you and you knew you shouldn’t love them, you couldn’t stop.

  “He’s changed, Lynn,” I whispered to the empty kitchen. I wiped my tears from my cheeks and sniffled. “But would it stay that way?” I replied.

  I turned off the kitchen light, leaving the remnants of breakfast with Zephyr and Dad on the kitchen table to clean up later.

  Sleep was the only thing I wanted rig
ht now.

  If I was sleeping, I didn’t have to worry about Dad or Steph. I didn’t have to try to fix the problems between the three of us. And I also didn’t have to try to dissect every second of last night with Zephyr.

  I didn’t have to think about anything, and that was what I wanted.

  I shuffled to my bedroom and flopped down on the bed.

  When I woke up, I could worry about all of those things.

  God, I hope we sleep for a year.

  “Me, too,” I whispered to the dark.

  Me, too.

  *

  Chapter Four

  Creaming the twinkie...

  Zephyr

  “You fucking awake?”

  I looked up from the ground. “Yeah.”

  “Well, you wanna look a little fucking lively here?” Dyno grumbled. “We need to measure the front parlor and see if we’ll need to knock down a wall for the coat check and security room.

  “Let’s go.” I climbed the steps of the funeral home and turned at the top. “You coming? I don’t know shit about any of this.”

  He gave me shit about not being awake, and now he was still standing next to our bikes.

  Dyno shook his head. “You fuckers. None of you guys know anything and expect me to tell you how to do everything. Might as well do all of the shit myself.”

  “Have we even officially bought the place?” I asked. “Seems like we should make sure the deal is good and done before we start making plans to rip down walls.”

  Dyno climbed the steps and put his hand on my shoulder. “Quinn is signing the papers as we speak, brother. Nice try getting out of this, though.” He pulled a set of keys from his pocket and jingled them. “You and I are going to start ripping down walls before the ink dries on the paperwork.”

  “Don’t you have better things to do on a Monday morning? Hell, you have an ol’ lady. Maybe you should try to spend some more time with her.”

  He stuck the key in the lock and opened the door. “Fancy is working.”

  “Well, hell, this is your chance to stay at the clubhouse and do whatever you want. Don’t have to worry about Fancy asking you what you’re doing or asking you to fix shit.”

  Dyno chuckled and motioned for me to walk in. “How about you don’t worry about Fancy and me, and you get your ass in there to do some work.”

  A roar of motorcycles pulling into the parking lot of the funeral home filled the air.

  I glanced at the three motorcycles and smiled. “Looks like we have some help.”

  Dyno shook his head and groaned. “Fucking ridiculous.”

  Core, Sledge, and Brick parked their bikes and moved to the bottom of the steps.

  “You know,” Brick laughed, “I thought you guys were just pulling my leg when you said the strip club was going to be in an old funeral home.”

  Core folded his arms over his chest. “I wish it was a fucking joke.”

  He was the one who was completely against us remodeling the funeral home. Only, the more that he acted like he didn’t want to be there, the more Quinn and Dyno were going to make him be there. Core hadn’t picked up on that yet.

  “You know anything about remodeling or building?” Dyno asked Brick.

  Brick shrugged. “I know enough. I worked some odd jobs before going to prison.” Brick folded his arms over his chest. “Quinn told me you were in charge of the remodeling, though.”

  Dyno nodded. “I am, but I’m going to need a hell of a lot of help.”

  Brick tipped his head back and looked up at the funeral home. “Yeah, I would say you’re going to need help. You might even need to get your head checked for thinking that this is a good idea.”

  “See!” Core grunted. “Brick has only been here for two days, and even he thinks this isn’t a good idea.”

  Brick shook his head. “I didn’t say it wasn’t a good idea. I’m just saying that this seems like a big project, and everyone is going to need to be all-hands-on-deck for this to work.”

  Core wrinkled his nose. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that and assume you’re on my side of thinking this isn’t a good idea.” He folded his arms over his chest and glared at Brick.

  Sledge hit Core’s shoulder. “You think you can suck it up and not be a bitch about us making the funeral home into the club?”

  Core side-eyed Sledge. “The first sign of that place being haunted, and I am out. I don’t fucking care if I look like a pussy bitch or not. I can handle anything except for dead zombie shit.”

  Sledge shrugged. “Whatever, brother. I guess you’re gonna have to deal with that dead zombie shit seeing as this place in the future home of Skinz.”

  We all moved into the funeral home and surveyed the large wall that separated the front parlor from the main living area.

  “Fucking hell, this place is huge.” Brick’s eyes moved all around the room. “You gonna put a stage in?”

  Dyno nodded. “Yup. We’ll have a stage with about a ten-foot runaway at the end that will extend into the seating. It’ll feel like the girls are really close to the customers, without feeling like they aren’t safe. We’ll have guys stationed at all points of the stage.” Dyno nodded to the opposite side of the room. “We’re going to put the bar there, and then right where we are standing will be the check-in, coat check, and security area.”

  “What’s upstairs?” Brick asked.

  Dyno turned to the stairs and pointed up and to the right. “Dressing room for the girls.” He pointed up and to the left. “And also private rooms.”

  Brick nodded. “Sounds like a solid plan.”

  Core rubbed his hands together. “The thing I want to be a part of is the hiring.”

  “Pull your weight with renovating, and maybe that will happen,” Dyno laughed.

  “As if any of you guys want to interview girls.” Core elbowed Brick. “Their ol’ ladies won’t let them.”

  Brick shrugged. “You do have a point there, Core. We wouldn’t want you guys to piss off your women. I mean, it’s the least we could do.”

  Dyno pulled out a tape measure and tossed it to Core. “Measure this fucking wall and stop acting like a pussy about renovating this place, and the interviews are all yours.”

  Core smiled wide. “Fuck yeah.”

  “I better be in on those interviews, too,” I added. “Last I checked, I don’t have an ol’ lady.”

  Core pulled out the end of the tape measure and handed the other end to Brick. “You sure about that? I heard Kimber talking to Quinn this morning about the pretty shrink.”

  I folded my arms over my chest and leaned against the wall. “And?”

  “And, Kimber said she saw you and the shrink take off on your bike pretty early yesterday morning.”

  “And?” I drawled again. I wasn’t giving Core a crumb of information about Lynn and me. Wasn’t any of his business.

  “And...I don’t fucking know anymore. That’s all I know,” Core huffed. He reached the end of the wall and looked at the tape measure. “Seventeen and a half feet,” he replied.

  Dyno pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and scribbled on it. “Now measure the wall on this side. I think over there will work, but I want to know this one, too.”

  I didn’t have a clue what Dyno was talking about. I could swing a hammer and do whatever he told me to, but all this planning and shit was not my thing.

  “I know I’m new around here, but what I think Core is trying to say is that you and the shrink are bumping uglies.” Brick leaned against the wall and folded his arms over his chest.

  “Playing hide the salami,” Sledge laughed.

  I rolled my eyes.

  Brick snapped his fingers. “Creaming the twinkie.”

  Core smiled even wider. “Launching the meat missile.”

  “Taking the bald gnome for a stroll in the forest,” Dyno suggested.

  Core opened his mouth and instantly closed it.

  Brick scratched his head and squinted. “Uh, that’s p
retty detailed.”

  Core closed one eye and pursed his lips. “So you’re saying your dick is the gnome and the shrink’s...”

  “Yes,” Dyno grunted. “Christ's sake. You guys have the worst imagination. Shit isn’t funny when it has to be explained.” He shook his head and pointed to the wall he wanted Core to measure.

  “So just tell us if you’re hitting it with the shrink,” Sledge laughed. “You do that, and these idiots will stop thinking of weird ways to say having sex.”

  “Nobody’s fucking business.” I shrugged. “Nothing to report.”

  Core moved to the second wall, and Brick took the other end of it. “This wall is twenty-one feet.” He let go of the tape measure, and it slung back to Brick. “And I don’t know if you’re telling the truth or not, Zephyr. You say it’s none of our business, but then you say there isn’t anything to report.”

  Sledge tapped his finger on his chin. “Would you actually report to us if there was something to tell, or is there something to tell but you’re not going to tell us because it isn’t any of our business?”

  I pushed off the wall and grabbed the tape measure from Brick. “Yes.”

  “Yes, what?” Core barked. “What the hell are you yessing?”

  Dyno and Sledge laughed.

  “I think he’s telling you he ain’t gonna tell you shit about the shrink.” Dyno tucked the piece of paper into his pocket.

  Core pointed at me. “So, there is something to tell.”

  Sledge slapped Core on the back. “Give it up, brother. He’s not going to tell you shit, just like Dyno and I wouldn’t tell you shit about our ol’ ladies.”

  “She’s your ol’ lady?” Core gasped.

  Oh, for fuck’s sake. This was getting ridiculous. “Nothing happened with the shrink, Core. She passed out, I let her sleep in my bed, and then I took her home in the morning when she woke up and freaked out. End of story.”

  Core eyed me warily. “Part of me doesn’t believe you.”

  I shrugged. That wasn’t my problem. I mean, yeah, I lied through my fucking teeth about Lynn and me, but I wasn’t going to tell him the truth. “So, are we knocking down a wall or what?” I asked Core.

  Core shook his head. “Not today. I need to go over the plans again. I’m thinking we’ll be building more than tearing down shit.”