With my phone clinched tight in my hand, I stalk out of the bar. As soon as the cool air hits me, I stop and suck in a deep breath. After a long day of travel and getting caught up to speed at the distillery, I just wanted a drink and maybe to shoot the shit with my old buddy Jake. Sure, I should have called, but I still needed that drink. What I wasn’t expecting was that little spitfire behind the bar. Hair black as night and eyes as blue as the sky, I noticed her the minute I walked in. She didn’t know me from the next guy and treated me so. I liked it, more than I would have ever imagined. I like the fire inside of her and how she’s not afraid to speak her mind. Usually women tell me what they think I want to hear. They fawn all over me and are willing to drop to their knees and suck my cock. All I have to do is say the word; some try on their own. Sure, I’ve enjoyed it. What single guy wouldn’t? But it’s getting to the point where I don’t know who to trust. I’m far from celebrity status, and it’s grueling to date when people know who I am, who know my family’s background. I can’t imagine what the A-list celebrities go through. No wonder there are so many divorces and prenuptial agreements in Hollywood.
When she called out for me, calling me Whiskey, I froze. Then I remembered there is no way this girl knows who I am. It had to be because of the drink I ordered. She doesn’t strike me as the type to be a gold digger, or one of those women who are looking to be a trophy wife. Definitely not. There is too much sweetness lurking beneath the surface.
She’s a tiny thing. My cock twitched at the anger in her eyes when I called her Short Stack. Sure, she’s short compared to my six feet four, but she’s also stacked. Firm, round tits behind that T-shirt. The name fits her. Maybe if I’m lucky, she’ll be working the next time I stop by to see Jake. I’ll need to make that happen soon.
Real soon.
I call a cab, which in this town will cost me an arm and a leg, but driving isn’t an option. That’s all either company needs is a scandal with me being caught driving drunk or worse. Not going to happen. Leaning against the building, I pull out my phone and scroll through my e-mail while waiting for the cab to arrive. I’m barely through my reply to Carrie to answer her long list of questions when the cab pulls up. I’m pleasantly surprised and relived. I’d contemplated going back inside to wait, but I don’t trust myself to not pursue the sweetness that is the bartender. Not tonight anyway. Sure, she was full of piss and vinegar, but I could work that out of her. Adjusting my thickening cock, I climb into the back of the cab and give him the address.
Back at the house, I kick off my shoes and head upstairs to check on Gramps. He’s awake, watching television. “Hey, you’re up,” I say, stepping into his room.
“I’m up,” he confirms.
“How you feeling?”
“Fine.”
“Can I get you anything?”
“No.”
He’s still being short with me. “I went to the distillery this afternoon. Met with Dorothy and went over a few things.”
He turns to face me. His face showing his age, the wrinkles around his eyes, the lines across his forehead. He looks as though he’s aged twenty years since the last time I saw him. It was last Christmas, but it’s been years since I’ve been here to stay and visit outside of a holiday. Shame hits me in the gut.
“I told you I have it under control.”
“You did, but I’m here, so you might as well let me help you.”
“Go home, Rhett.”
His voice is void of any emotion, causing a tightness in my chest. This isn’t my Gramps. This isn’t the loving old man who was so full of life and would take me fishing. This man, he’s frail and angry. I can’t help but think that I caused this. He and I were two peas in a pod until I changed the dynamics. I let life, college, and work take me from what matters most.
Family.
“Gramps, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I’m here until you don’t need me anymore. Maybe when you get to feeling better, we can take the boat out,” I suggest.
“I don’t need you.” With that, he turns away from me, ending our conversation.
I take him in as he lies there. His breathing is labored, but I don’t know if that’s from anger or the illness. He’s yet to cough tonight, so I’ll take that as a step in the right direction. “Night, Gramps. I’ll see you in the morning.” Standing, I place my hand on his shoulder and give it a gentle squeeze before slipping out of his room.
The house is eerily quiet as I make the walk to my room, which depresses me even more. I never remember Gramps’s house being quiet. Even if it was just the two of us, there was always a game on the television or music. Gramps is a fan of old bluegrass and always had it playing. Now, it’s just quiet.
In my room, I strip out of my clothes and head straight to the shower to wash away the day. The distillery has taken a back seat, and the production numbers show it. I wish I would have known sooner. Then again, if I was reaching out and visiting more, I probably would have known. Resting my head against the shower wall, I let the hot spray rain down on my back and neck, hoping to ease some of the tension. I stand there until the water runs cold, which is starting to become a habit. Snatching a towel and quickly drying off, I rummage through my suitcase to find a pair of boxer briefs. If I were at home, I wouldn’t bother, but if Gramps happens to need me in the middle of the night, I want to at least have the family jewels covered.
Climbing into bed, exhaustion hits me. Grabbing my phone, I set my alarm for six in the morning. Gramps always was an early riser. I want to eat breakfast with him before heading into the distillery. He might say he doesn’t want me here, or need me, but I know better. Even more so, I want to be here. I just need to prove it.
Startled awake by the alarm on my phone, I slip my arm from underneath the covers and slap at the nightstand until I feel the offending device under my fingertips. Lifting my head, I open one eye and work to turn off the alarm before letting my head fall back against the pillow. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, but it feels as if that was only minutes ago, when in reality it was a little over six hours. Rolling onto my back, I force both eyes open and stare up at the ceiling. It’s still dark outside, my room lit with only the dim light of the moon. Remembering that I want to eat with Gramps before heading to the distillery, I climb my tired ass out of bed and get dressed for the day.
As I get closer to the kitchen, I hear movement. I’m ready to yell at Gramps to get back in bed when I round the corner and see Rosa. She’s been my gramps’s housekeeper for as long as I can remember. “Rosa.”
She jumps and turns to face me with her hand clapped against her chest. “Rhett, boy, you scared the life right outta me. Come here and give me a hug.” She opens her arms wide.
I can’t help the grin I’m sporting as I make my way toward her. Bending, I wrap my arms around her and hug her tight. “Nice to see you,” I say, standing to my full height.
“It’s been too long, child. Come, sit.” She points to the island. “Look at you all grown up and handsome.”
“I agree, it’s been too long,” I say, taking a seat. “How have you been, Rosa?”
“Oh heavens, just fine. Spoiling my grandbabies. I’ve got four now.” She beams with pride.
“Four, wow, so Gabbie or Rick?” I ask, referring to her two children.
“Both. Gabbie has two little girls, and Rick a boy and a girl.”
“Congrats, Grandma,” I say, smiling at her.
“Thank you. What about you, dear? Married? Kids?”
“No to both.” I’m ashamed that she doesn’t already know this. Just another reminder that I haven’t been here. What’s worse is Gramps knows these things. He’s not been talking about me. Sadness washes over me when I realize how selfish I’ve been.
“You work too much. You need to visit more often; he needs you,” she scolds me.
I’m hit again with the reality of how my actions have hurt my grandfather. “Yeah, I let life get in the way, but I’m here now,” I assure her.
“How long are you staying?”
“It was just going to be until Gramps gets better, but I’m thinking it would be nice to hang out, you know, spend some time with him once he’s better.”
“Can you do that? What will your parents think? You work for them, right?”
I nod. “I do, and it doesn’t matter what they think. It’s what I’m going to do.”
“But who will cover for you?”
“They’ll be fine, Rosa. Mom is taking on my role until I return. She’s enjoying it, trust me,” I say with a laugh.
“How about some breakfast?” she asks, taking my word for it.
“I was actually going to eat with Gramps. I assume he eats up in his room?”
She nods. “That he does. Today he’s having oatmeal and wheat toast.”
“That sounds great. Can I help? I’d like to take it up to him if you don’t mind.”
Her smile is soft and comforting, reminding me so much of my childhood. “You just sit there and keep me company. Won’t take but a few more minutes, and I’ll have you all set.”
For the next five minutes, we talk about her grandkids, and she asks how my parents are doing, how I like my job, just catching up.
“Here you go,” she says, setting a tray with an oatmeal breakfast for two in front of me. “Now, he’s a little surly, so just ignore him.”
I laugh. “Yeah, he’s something all right. He’s angry,” I say, picking up the tray.
“Rhett, he misses you.”
I sigh. “I know. I’ve missed him too. I realize now I should have visited more. That’s on me, but I’m going to fix it.” With that, I stand and head for the stairs to eat breakfast with Gramps.
The door is cracked, and I see the glow of the television. “Knock, knock,” I say and push the door open with my hip. “I thought we could eat breakfast together.” I set the tray on the side table beside his bed.
“Where’s Rosa?” he asks.
“In the kitchen. She made this.” I scoot the hospital-style table closer so that it’s over his bed and he can access his food.
Once I know he can reach his, I grab my plate and begin to eat. “Did you watch the game last night?” I ask, referring to the highlights of last night’s NFL game playing on TV.
“No.” The one-word answer is all I get as he stares at the TV.
“Are you not going to eat?” I ask.
“Not hungry.”
“Come on, Gramps. Rosa went through all this trouble.” I set my plate back on the table.
“Good morning,” Rosa says cheerfully from the doorway.
“Rosa,” Gramps greets her, and the change in his voice and attitude is obvious.
“What’s this I hear? You’re not hungry?” she asks, fussing with his pillow.
“I’ll eat later,” he tells her, continuing to ignore my presence.
“Nonsense, you two used to do this all the time,” she gushes. “Brings back good memories.” Rosa picks up his plate and hands it to him. “Now, eat up.” She holds it out for him until be begrudgingly takes it from her. “Much better. Now, I’ll be back in a few with your medication.” With that, she leaves us alone.
“Anything you need me to take care of today at the distillery? Anything you want or need updated on?”
“If I do, I’ll call my staff and handle it. You can go back home to your beer.”
“Look, Gramps, I know you’re upset, and I understand why. I should have been here more than just a holiday here and there. I’m sorry. I’m here now, and I’m not leaving no matter how indifferent you are to me.” I watch him as he stares straight ahead at the television. No reply, no facial expression, just… blank stares. Releasing a heavy sigh, I grab my dishes and leave him be.
“Where are you going?” Rosa asks as I pass her in the hallway.
“To work. He refuses to talk to me. Keep me updated, will you, Rosa?”
“He’ll come around, child. His feelings are hurt, but he misses you.”
I nod. “I’ll be home later. Thanks for taking care of him.” I give her arm a gentle squeeze and head to the kitchen to drop off my dishes and head into work.