Page 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

SMALL MERCIES

BOWIE

I inhale the aroma of coffee before I even push through the door of Luminary Coffeehouse, ready for my coffee fix. I haven’t slept enough the past week and a half. Things have escalated with my dad…he’s hanging on, but it’s not looking good. Seeing him so close to the end is bringing up memories I thought I’d buried, things I needed to forget.

And then there’s Poppy. It doesn’t help that I’ve seen her almost every afternoon, dropping Becca off at Briar Hill. We’ve established a routine now, where I drop her off and she brings Becca home in the evening. Those few minutes at the door, chatting about the day, have become a bright spot.

Damn it, I don’t want to think about Poppy Keane.

Music blasts through the speakers and I wince at the sound. Patrons are scattered around mismatched tables, and normally they’d be chatting or looking at their phones, but not today. Every eye is on me as I walk inside.

Clara stands behind the counter, her usual wide grin stretched across her face.

“Morning, Bowie!” she calls, buzzing with more energy than is reasonable for this hour. “You’re just in time.”

“For what?” I clear my throat to get some of the gravel out.

Clara’s grin is mischievous and I get a bad feeling. “Dance-off.”

I stop mid-step, brows scrunching up. “Dance-off?”

“You heard me,” she says, hands on her hips. “No coffee for you boys today until you dance. It’s my new policy.”

A groan rises from the corner table where the resident grumps, Walter and Marv, sit at their usual table…without coffee.

“This is ridiculous,” Marv mutters, crossing his arms.

“Back in my day, we just handed over a nickel and got our coffee,” Walter scowls. “No wiggling involved.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “It’s too early for this.”

“It’s never too early for joy,” Clara chirps.

Henley walks in and Clara points at him.

“Dance for your coffee, Henley.”

He does a little shimmy and she beams, handing him the solar latte that already has his name on it in decorative letters. The patrons cheer for him. What fresh torture is this?

“That’s how it’s done,” Clara says, nodding at me .

Weston and Penn walk in together and pause when they see me standing there like a lump.

“Hey, man,” Weston says. He hugs me.

“Welcome back,” I say.

“Thanks.” He grins. He motions for me to go ahead. “You got your coffee yet?”

“Gotta dance for it,” I grumble.

“Come again?”

“You heard him right,” Clara says. “Dancing for the coffee. I’m ready for spring and the weather isn’t cooperating. This is the next best thing.”

Penn grins. “You got it, Clara.” He does an elaborate break-dancing spin I have no idea how the hell he pulls off, but he does and the place erupts in cheers.

Weston laughs. “Show-off.” He takes off his jacket and does a boy band move, which makes everyone go crazy.

Rhodes walks in to the cheers and thinks it’s for him. He struts his shit without even being asked and Clara hands him the coffee, which earns more cheers.

“Your turn, Bowie,” Clara says.

Marv gets tired of waiting and cuts in front of me, doing the Cleopatra and Walter folds his arms over his chest, but walks over, shaking his ass slightly.

“I coulda broken my hip,” Marv says, pointing at Clara.

“But you didn’t,” Clara sasses back.

I tilt my head back and groan, but even I am smiling by now. Clara lifts her eyebrows at me, waiting.

“Fine, but it’s not gonna be pretty.” I go robot with it and the place goes wild.

“You’re good!” Clara cries.

“Don’t quit your day job,“ Walter says.

“You’re lucky I love you, Clara,” I tell her.

“I love you too, Bowie Fox. And you’ll be back,” she says, grinning as she hands me the coffee. “I can’t wait to see what you do next time.”

“So cheeky,” I grumble.

She just laughs.

“Next time, try jazz hands,” Marv says.

I raise my cup in a mock toast and head back to our room. The noise barely quietens when we close the door and Weston laughs.

“Clara’s feeling good today,” he says.

“So are you, by the looks of that tan. You trying to compete with me?” Rhodes asks, holding his arm up to Weston’s.

“A week more in paradise and maybe I could’ve gotten there,” Weston tells Rhodes.

“You look good,” Henley says. “Rested even. How was your honeymoon?”

“It was heaven. Beaches, spectacular sunsets, drinks with tiny umbrellas, all with Sadie. What’s not to love?”

“Tiny umbrellas,” Henley repeats, nodding sagely. “The key to any successful relationship.”

“Isn’t marriage the best?” Rhodes asks.

“You apparently think so,” I say, pointing at his face. “You’re fucking glowing, man.”

Rhodes beams and slaps his cheek a couple times. “Damn right, I am.”

“Speaking of…when are you guys getting married, Henley?” Penn asks.

“I don’t know…you guys have got me thinking,” Henley says, somewhat cryptically. He looks at me. “What about you? When are you gonna ask Poppy out? I heard that I missed some hot tension out on the field at Briar Hill. I’d like to hear in your words how she landed on top of you for ten minutes. ”

Everyone laughs but me…I snort.

“It wasn’t ten minutes,” I say, shaking my head.

“But you do admit she was on top of you?” Penn, the shit-stirrer, says.

“Yeah, I broke her fall so she wouldn’t get hurt.”

All four sets of eyes look back at me with derpy grins.

I groan and swipe my hand down my face. “It was nothing.”

“Well, when are you going to make it something?” Rhodes asks. “You’ve gotta see how she lights up every time she’s around you. I thought I was going to have to cover some kids’ eyes out there on the field.”

“Shut up.” I laugh.

My ears feel hot and I’m glad for the hair coverage.

“Time to man up,” Rhodes says, smirking.

“I’d normally be all about keeping you single so I’m not alone,” Penn says, leaning his forearms on the table, “but I’d like to see you get some. We don’t want you having old man problems with the prostate.” He points his thumb toward the door. “You ever need the fear put in you properly…get stuck talking to Marv and Walter about that issue.” He tilts his head down, his wide eyes staying pinned on mine. “You can’t unhear it.”

“My prostate is fine. God . You guys are too much.” I pinch the bridge of my nose and barely hold back the laugh that’s trying to come out. “You think I’ve got time for a date right now?”

Remorse crosses their faces and I’d feel guilty for it if they weren’t such nosy bastards all the fucking time. They’ve actually been saints while my dad’s been in the hospital. Weston’s the only one who hasn’t been to the hospital yet, but he’s called often, even while he was still on his honeymoon.

“How is your dad today?” Weston asks .

“Seems about the same. I’m heading over there after this.”

“I’m so sorry, man,” he says. “Can I bring food over to the hospital later?”

“You don’t have to do that. You’ve barely been home. Catch your breath. We’re good.” I smile when he squeezes my shoulder.

“I want to,” he says. “I’ll text this afternoon and if you’re not still there, I’ll take something for your mom.”

“You guys are too good to me.”

“You’re good to us too,” Henley says. “You know that I have you to thank for pulling me out of my depressed state after the accident.”

My eyes narrow. “Pretty sure that was Tru and your girls who did that...and the rest of these guys.”

“No, you literally pulled me out of bed first…and then it was everyone.” We all laugh with him.

The conversation shifts to Elle’s book release party coming up and then Weston’s honeymoon again, but my mind circles back to Poppy. The way it does way too often these days. She’s invading my thoughts without me even consciously letting her.

When we leave, I brace myself, but Clara doesn’t make us dance our way out the door. I have a feeling her new policy isn’t going anywhere though.