His Frozen Heart (5 page)

Teddy looked pissed. He threw his cue
on the table and went to rack. Libby’s sing-songy voice echoed, “Oh
my God, that’s four hundred dollars! Wow. I’m sorry about your
shot, well, not really.” She looked at the clock, and we had just
crossed Chris’s time limit.

She squatted down next to Teddy who
was slamming balls onto the table in the rack hard. Her voice was
sweet, too sweet. “Sorry, maybe another night. We’ve got to
go.”

His cocky voice had turned to anger
when he growled, “Double or nothing again.”

Libby shook her head, “No
can do. I only had four hundred. I couldn’t afford to pay you if we
lost again, and you are
really
good.”

That was a lie. If she had scraped all
the change in the bottom of her purse together, she might have had
fifty-two cents to go with the twelve dollars from her coffee can.
Four hundred dollars would have been catastrophic if she’d
lost.

Teddy stood to his whole height
glaring at Libby, “I don’t carry that kind of cash.”

She pointed to a dark corner of the
bar, “No problem. There’s an ATM right over there.”

Teddy was fuming, his words angry and
measured. “I’m not paying.”

Tony walked up to Teddy casually and
softly offered, “They won. Just pay and let’s go.”

Teddy snarled, “No. I’m not paying
this bitch.”

Others around us were suddenly very
interested in what was going on at our table. I wanted to blend
into the wall. I’d seen scenes like this before, and normally they
didn’t turn ugly because we had friends around, but tonight the
only ones we knew in the whole place were Chris, who didn’t want us
here to begin with, and Dave Brewer, who I hadn’t seen in almost
two years, neither of whom would go to bat for us if we needed
them.

Tony stepped up to his brother,
towering over him with his lanky frame. “You’ve told me a hundred
times, a bet’s a bet. A man’s only as good as his word. Pay up or I
will.”

Was he for real? Teddy’s little
brother was sticking up for us? He stood quite a bit taller than
his older brother, but Tony was willow thin. If looks were any
indication, Teddy, who surprisingly enough had seemed about as
aggressive as a teddy bear earlier, could beat the crapola out of
his brother without any effort at all. Tony didn’t back down,
instead demanding, “Now.”

Teddy shoved Tony hard into the pool
table behind him. Tony righted himself after he had smashed into
the pool table and narrowly missed the light hanging above it with
his head. Teddy glared at Tony for a couple seconds as if silently
challenging his brother to come at him. Tony didn’t. He stood
against the pool table staring at his brother. Teddy shook his head
as if he were going to say something to his brother, but
reconsidered and walked toward the ATM in the far corner, mumbling
an explicative under his breath.

I flew over to Tony, “Are you
okay?”

“
Fine. When he pays you,
the two of you better get out of here. I’ve never seen him come
after a lady, but he’s a bad loser.”

“
Will do.” He didn’t have
to tell me twice. Chris was watching in earnest from behind the
bar. I’m sure a small part of him was hoping Libby would lose,
after her doing essentially the same thing to him. The larger
portion of him was no doubt thrilled that she was going to make
good on her offer to him for letting her shark.

I felt like I owed Tony for sticking
up for us, but I didn’t know how to say it without sounding
disingenuous. “Hey, thanks.”

“
No problem.” He watched
his brother returning from the ATM, “Here he comes. You two better
go.”

When Teddy returned with a pile of
twenties, he tossed them at Libby: they all floated to the floor.
She squatted down to gather them. Teddy crossed over into
Slimeville when he spat, “Go ahead, Honey, you can stay down there
if you are looking for some more cash.”

Out of nowhere came a booming voice
neither I nor anyone in a twenty foot radius expected. “Teddy, you
sneaky son-of-a-bitch, I thought that was you. Just got beat by a
girl? Careful, your rep may never recover.”

I turned to see Dave towering over
Teddy. Up close, Dave looked even more different than when I had
last seen him. When he was across the room from us, I’d noticed his
shirt was tight, but up close I could see his chest stretched every
stitch of fabric on it, rivaling any body builder I’d
seen.

Dave moved in closer to Teddy, and
Teddy took a step back giving Dave some room. He shot a dazzling
smile my way, and said, “Ladies, if you’re done with Teddy, I need
to talk to him for a minute.”

Libby had gathered up all the twenties
off of the floor and shoved them in her purse. “Sure. We were just
leaving.”

In a commanding voice, meant to knock
Teddy down a couple inches, Dave asked, “I saw you toss her
winnings at her. You weren’t disrespecting the ladies, were you?”
Libby was a few steps ahead of me, but I was frozen in place by
Dave’s question to Teddy.

Teddy’s voice answered in a friendly
tone, “No. Of course not, Boss. Just wrapping up a friendly
game.”

“
That’s what I thought.”
Dave turned toward me, held out his hand and said, “I’m Mark. I’m
sorry we couldn’t meet under better circumstances. Can you stick
around for a drink?”

Mark? What the hell? His name was
Dave. I took his hand in an odd way, not understanding the game he
was playing. I’d known him since the day he turned my piece-of-shit
car I’d rescued from the scrap heap into a muscle car. He had to
have recognized me. Regardless of what was going on between the two
men, he had definitely come to our rescue with Teddy, so I decided
to play along. “It’s nice to meet you, too, Mark. I’m
Candy.”

Dave’s eyes locked on mine as he asked
a second time, “A drink?”

“
Um, no thanks. Libby and I
were just leaving.”

In a smooth voice he answered, “My
loss. I’ll be here next Tuesday night. Maybe I’ll see you
then.”

There was something weird about Dave’s
voice. It sounded deeper than the last time I had heard it – older
for sure. Not a surprise, he was two years older than the last time
I had seen him. As big as his chest was, maybe he had taken
steroids or something, but I think those make a man’s voice rise
not get deeper.

“
Maybe. I don’t usually go
out on Tuesdays, but I’ll try.” I turned my attention to Libby who
stood several feet away. “Ready?”

With my back to Dave, I heard him say,
“I’ve got some business with Teddy. I hope you two lovely ladies
have a good evening.”

With that, we had been dismissed. None
too soon, either. Libby’s eyes had taken in all of Dave, as well.
From her expression, she was just as impressed with the changes as
I had been. I watched her sizing him up, but I grabbed her shoulder
to move her away from all the testosterone. Libby made a straight
line to the bar; she had agreed to give Chris twenty, but it looked
like she slid him closer to sixty.

He nodded his thanks then jammed the
cash in his pocket. We were outside in the frigid air a few seconds
later. The temperature did nothing to quiet her when she asked
loudly, “That was Dave Brewer? Holy shit, did he move into a
gym?”

I shook my head, “I don’t know, maybe.
You want me to go back in and ask?”

She pushed me toward my car, “Funny.
Drive.”

Chapter 4

We got home after 8:00 PM. Libby was
right: I had just enough time for a quick nap before I had to go to
work at midnight. She promised to go to the grocery store in order
to have manicotti waiting for me when I woke up. The free chicken
wings I had eaten at the bar had taken the edge off of my hunger,
so getting to sleep would be easy enough.

I wondered how long she would be able
to keep this pool sharking up. Libby was good, really good. She’d
make more money in a bigger city like Omaha or Chicago, but there
was a much better chance that she’d get knifed there, too. There
were nights she lost, but few, if any, where she lost big. Tonight
was the first time in a really long time that I worried she might
have to come up with money she didn’t have.

I lay down and snuggled into my
pillow. The cool caress of my sheets was short-lived. I awoke
briefly when I heard Libby’s high-pitched call from downstairs,
“Candy! Candy!!” Startling awake, I propped myself up on my elbows,
picked up my phone from my nightstand and saw that I still had five
minutes before I needed to wake up.

I wondered if I had heard my name in a
dream or if Libby had called to me. I sat up for a few seconds to
listen for her – nothing. Libby was always screwing with the
settings on the clocks in the house, so none of them were the same
time. The one on the stove was five minutes fast, the one in the
living room was ten minutes ahead. I eased my head back onto my
pillow – the few hours of sleep wasn’t enough, and I desperately
wanted my other five minutes. It felt like my eyes had just barely
closed when my phone began ringing.

The ring was easy to ignore – I was
too tired to talk to anyone. I used the alarm on my phone instead
of my alarm clock, which sounded different than my ring tone. I
tuned out the annoying caller in favor of my final minutes of much
needed sleep. Whoever was calling me could wait. I dozed off
again.

My phone rang again. I reached over to
push “ignore” when I saw the time. 12:20 – shit, I was twenty
minutes late for work! Leaping out of bed, I grabbed a pair of
jeans and a sweater and flung them both on, not even bothering to
look at myself in the mirror. My fingers weaved through my hair,
tying it in a messy pony tail, then began lacing my leather boots.
They stopped just below my knee, so I skipped half the eyelets and
tucked the laces in the top. I shoved my books, which had been
scattered around my room, into my backpack as the smell of Libby’s
manicotti wafted upstairs.

I bounded down the steps, two at a
time. Libby was lying still on the couch in the dark living room
with the television on. A small casserole dish with stuffed
manicotti was waiting for me on the kitchen table. Something was on
the wall behind the couch, but before I could get a closer look, my
phone screeched to life again – how many calls was that? I saw the
caller ID: it was Maria at the gas station, the lady who I should
have relieved over twenty minutes ago. I accepted the call and
blurted into the phone, “Maria, I’m so sorry. I overslept. I’m on
my way right now.”

She was wholly pissed off, “My
babysitter charges me by the minute after
twelve-thirty.”

“
I’m sorry. I swear I’ll be
there in ten minutes. No pass down, you can jet as soon as I hit
the parking lot. I’ll relieve you an hour early tomorrow night.” I
grabbed my coat, bolted into the cold night air, rushed down the
front steps to my car, not even bothering to shut off the
television or to tell Libby thanks for the dinner.

“
I’m telling Mr. Sanders
you’re late again.”

I was already in my car. The roar of
the engine momentarily drowned out the swear words she was firing
at me. I pleaded, “Please don’t. I swear I just overslept. I’m in
my car now.”

I gunned the engine, and my car
responded immediately. I loved my car.

Maria hung up on me. I hoped she
didn’t make a big deal about it to our boss. Of my three jobs, this
was the one I liked the best. Midnight to seven, five nights a
week. I could bring my books with me and study most of the night.
Customers weren’t allowed in the store after ten, so other than the
occasional request for a pack of cigarettes, there were very few
disruptions.

Maria was already in her
car as I flew into the tiny parking lot. She rolled her window down
and threw the keys toward me before I had even shut my car off –
they landed in the snow a few feet away. Damn, she
was
going to tell Mr.
Sanders. I couldn’t afford to get fired from this job. I needed
it.

I slung my book bag over my
shoulder before I reached down to the ground, digging through the
pile of snow for the keys. Hopefully Mr. Sanders would come in
early tomorrow
before
Maria could call him. That would give me a chance to explain.
I thought of all the little crappy jobs around the store that I
could do tonight to make up for being late.

An old Chevy Nova pulled up to the
pump as I was unlocking the door to the store. It was tricked out
with wide wheels, chrome everywhere, and a black matte finish. I
couldn’t help but check it out as I secured the deadbolt behind me
after I was inside the store. I took my perch behind the window,
finished lacing up my boots, brushed my hair into a more
presentable pony tail, and put some lip balm on.

I sat in the booth, and if anyone
needed something besides gas, I could sell them pop, snacks,
cigarettes and beer, but I did it through the nifty little drawer.
No one came inside. Most customers just needed fuel and paid at the
pump, so I could go hours without talking to anyone on my
shift.

As all-night convenience store jobs
go, this one was better than most. Mr. Sanders didn’t like to talk
about it, but one of his clerks had been shot and killed a few
years ago. After it happened, he changed the policy: the doors
stayed locked from 10 PM to 6 AM, and bullet-proof glass was
installed on every window. Occasionally, someone would come in who
was too dense to figure out how to work the pumps, so I’d go
outside to help, but that almost never happened.