Chapter Ten - Tyler
“The Delta, mostly,” says Pete.
“Shit, really? The Mekong Delta?” I ask.
“No, the Mississippi Delta. Yes, of course, the fucking Mekong,” Pete responds.
I’ve been sitting in his office asking him about his time in the service for most of the morning. He’s not particularly forthcoming, but I like him and I don’t wanna leave just yet. It doesn’t take Dr. Eldridge, who kinda reminds me of my mom, to tell me that I like Pete because he seems like the kinda guy I wish I had had as a dad, instead of my actual dad. Maybe I can get Doc Eldridge and Pete together! That’d be badass.
The blood on my shirt is mostly dry now and it looks kind of like a Rorschach test. When I stare down at it what I see is the sexiest woman I’ve ever met wrapping her gorgeous legs around me, and that makes my dick jump. Consequently, I’m not looking down at it, because I don’t want Pete to get the wrong idea. Never can be too careful.
“Jesus,” I say, “So what kind of missions were you running?”
Pete takes a bite of his corn dog (the lunch buffet at the club features corn dogs, presumably so that the girls can wrap their mouths around them while they’re giving lap dances to the lunch crowd. That’s just smart marketing) and studies me.
“Classified ones,” he says.
“Oh. So you were in Cambodia?”
“How long you serve?” Pete asks.
“Four tours.”
“And nobody ever told you what the hell ‘classified’ means?” he says, as he takes another bite.
I take a bite of mine too and we both chew in silence for a second.
“So how’d you wind up owning a strip joint in Vegas?” I ask him.
“You this inquisitive with everybody?”
“I dunno. I kinda stuffed down my inside voice for a long time, but lately I’m making an effort. Just trying to be a part of society or some fucking thing.”
He eyes me, nods. “Yeah… I get that.” Then he finishes off his corn dog, throws the stick in the trash, wipes his hands, and says, “Girl.”
“Girl got you to Vegas or girl got you to open a strip club?”
“Yep,” he says. I really like this fucking guy.
“Where is she now?”
He pauses for a moment. Then he turns in his chair and points to an urn sitting on the shelf behind him.
“Oh. Sorry.” I say.
“Nothing to be sorry about. She saved me when I thought I was past saving, we were together for a long time, then she died in her sleep with my arms wrapped around her. That’s about as good a life as a man can hope for.”
I start feeling kinda misty and I’m not sure why. I didn’t know her. Hell, I barely know him, but still something about the way he says it hits me in just the right place.
“There’s gotta be more to that story,” I suggest.
“There is,” he says. Period. Full stop. OK. I can take a hint.
I finish my corn dog too and toss the stick and napkin across the room into the trash can on the far side. (Four years as power forward on my high-school varsity team. You can’t fuck with my corn-dog-stick tossing game.)
“So, Pete, can I ask you a question?”
“You have been all morning.”
“Fair enough. Can you fire Maddie?”
He looks at me like I’m making him tired. Probably because... “What’s that, now?”
“I’m just trying to help her.”
“By making her lose her job?”
“C’mon, man,” I say, “I don’t know exactly what the deal is, but you and I both know that fucking guy is gonna be back. Whatever she’s into, she needs to disappear. But she’s so goddamn stubborn, she’ll just keep showing up until some something gets broken that can’t be put back together.”
“She’s an adult,” he says.
“Okay, fine.” I decide to change up my argument. “But you and I both know Maddie’s not supposed to be here.”
“No?”
“No. You know her. She’s not like the other girls who work here.”
Pete leans back, puts his hands on his belly. “Yeah? You know a whole lot about the other girls who work here?”
“Well,” I say, somewhat hesitantly, because I can already see where this is headed. “I—”
“Stephanie has a kid and was left high and dry by her old man. She tried about fifteen other things but couldn’t cover the bills.”
“I know, I—”
“Meredith trained to be a ballerina, got a knee injury, this is a way she can dance and make a living at the same time.”
“Okay, I get it, I just—”
“Patricia’s just kind of a sexual deviant with low self-esteem, but y’know, they’re not all gonna be stories of plucky underdogs.” Pete almost cracks a smile. Almost. Then he says, “Stop trying to make up for your fuck-up by forcing yourself on the situation. Looks to me like you and her are finding common ground”—he nods at my bloody t-shirt—“such as it is. So just give her some space and stop trying to play hero. That ship has sailed.”
Shit. Pete just knows how to get right to the heart of a motherfucker.
“Maddie’s a good girl,” Pete says. “She’s a smart girl. She’s gonna be OK.”
“I just wish she’d take some help and not feel like she has to fucking do everything on her own all the time.”
“No, you don’t.”
“What?” I ask, genuinely surprised.
“Because then she wouldn’t be her.”
Again, right to the fucking heart.
He stands, which I take as my cue to stand too. Pete says to me, “I’m not much of one for telling another man what he should do or how he should be, but…” He puts his hand on my shoulder and walks me to the door. “I know Raven already told you this, but it feels like it bears repeating. Because, you know, you’re stupid.”
“Thanks.”
“If you really give a shit about Maddie, find a way to show her you do. Not get her to forgive you or think anything about you, just show her you’re grateful for her. Think of it like giving a gift. You give me a picture to hang in my office, you don’t get to tell me where to hang it, or when, or even if I do. You just give the gift and walk away. Give her a gift. You get me?”
I turn to face him. I nod. "Yeah. Like my friend Lobsang once told me. Give of yourself freely. Have no attachment to the outcome.”
“Sure. Whatever. Just don’t be a fucking asshole.”
“That is also a way to say it.” I shake his hand. “You’re a wise man, Pete—Uh. What’s your last name?”
“Don’t matter much. And I’m not wise, I just got lucky to know somebody once who helped me learn some shit that set me right.” He looks over to the pretty urn behind his desk, then back at me. “Hell, kid, I was probably even stupider than you once upon a time. So… there’s still hope.”
He nods his head and I walk through the door of his office and down the stairs, thinking about how much I really do have to be grateful for. I mean shit, I’m still alive. And I’m in love with my best friend’s kid sister. And she, at the least, keeps letting me fuck her, so I feel like that’s an encouraging sign.
I do need to show Maddie how much I’m thankful for her. He’s right. I need to give her a gift. One that shows her I understand where she’s at. What she needs. Something that’s only for her and isn’t at all about me.
I just need to figure out what the hell that is.