Gravel's Road (4 page)

Chapter 6

Ethel

“Lunch,” I called through the screen door to Gravel. I moved back to the kitchen, not waiting for him to get up.

After we had shook on being friends, we had talked about the club. Gravel was telling me all that was going on with their new business. I had heard small bits and pieces from Lo, but never the full gist of what was going on.

“I know you said you were just going to make sandwiches, but I know with you a sandwich is not just a sandwich.” He grabbed the ice tea from the fridge and filled his glass.

He was right. I had made turkey clubs with avocado, pepper bacon, and homemade aioli. I grabbed a bag of classic potato chips out of the cabinet and set it on the table next to the sandwiches.

“Food should taste good,” I murmured as I sat down at the table next to Gravel.

“You’re right, darling, but your food could be illegal it tastes so good.” Gravel picked up his sandwich and tore a big bite out of it. He moaned, rolling his eyes and throwing his head back.

“Good?” I asked, as I open the bag of chips and put some on my plate.

“The fucking best,” he said before he took another bite.

For once we sat in comfortable silence eating lunch. The past week had been filled with tense moments and uncomfortable silence.

“So, who’s going to be in charge of the strip club, once it opens?” I asked as I finished my sandwich.

“King was thinking Slider was going to take over the daily running of things, although I’m sure half of the brothers will be there every night.” Gravel laughed as he pushed his plate away.

“I’m sure you’re right about that, along with half of the town.” I chuckled as I grabbed our empty plates and took them to the sink. I rinsed them off and put them in the dishwasher.

“You want to get out of here?” Gravel asked, my back to him.

I slowly turned around and looked at him. “Me?” I asked, looking around the room, thinking maybe someone had appeared that Gavel was talking to.

“Darlin’.” Gravel smirked as he got up and headed out of the kitchen. ‘Be ready in ten minutes,” he said walking down the hall.

I heard his bedroom door shut and laughed. What in the hell just happened?

I grabbed the dish towel and wiped off my hands. I threw it on the counter, still laughing to myself.

Apparently all it took for Gravel to notice me, was to act like I didn’t want to be by him. Men. And they say women are finicky.

I flipped off the kitchen light and headed to my room to change my clothes and get ready. I had no idea what Gravel had planned, but I knew I was going to be ready in ten minutes, waiting at the door to see where the day would take us.

*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*

Gravel

“This fucking lane is rigged,” I grumbled as I watched my ball veer to the left and hit the gutter before it made it half way down the lane.

“I think it might have something to do with the operator,” Ethel giggled as she walked up next to me and grabbed her hot pink ball. All the fucking balls and she had to find the only pink one.

She walked up to the lane, lined up her feet, and did a cute little shuffle that wiggled her ass at me and whipped her ball down the lane, knocking down all the pins. Did I mention her ball only weighed eight fucking pounds? I could probably throw the fucker over the building without breaking a sweat.

“Yes!” she cheered as she jumped up and down with her hands up in the air.

I smiled at her. She was having a hell of a time. My goddamn shoulder was killing me, but I would cut the fucking thing off before we left. “Good job, darlin’.”

“Thanks,” she said, a huge smile stretched across her face.

I rubbed my shoulder and looked down the lane, watching my ball roll down the lane and up the ball return. “Last frame, maybe I can make a comeback,” I joked, looking up at the screen seeing Ethel had 187 points, and I only had 85. Well, maybe I could break 100.

I tossed my ball down the lane and only managed to knock three pins down. I kept my back to Ethel, hearing her laugh her ass off at me.

Dropping my head down, I glanced at the fucking clown shoes they made you wear and wondered what the hell happened to me. I used to never give a fuck about anyone. Now, here I was at a fucking bowling alley in the middle of the day, trying to impress a woman while my fucking arm felt like it was going to fall off.

I turned back around, wondering if I was losing my mind, and saw Ethel smiling up at me, reminding me of the woman I met 15 years ago. “You do know you are supposed to knock all of the pins down, right?” She teased, smiling up at me.

“Alright, smart-ass.”

“How bad is your shoulder hurting?” She asked as she stood up and gently rubbed my shoulder.

I leaned into her soothing touch, the pain easing. “Not bad,” I lied.

“Mmhmm…,’ she hummed, rolling her eyes. ‘I’ll finish this game and then we can head home, and you can relax while I make dinner. Sound good?” She asked, stepping away from and me.

“I’ll take you out to dinner. You’ve been cooking for me this past week, you need a break,” I insisted.

“How about this,’ she said as she picked up her ball and walked up to the alley. She turned around and faced me. ‘I down more than five pins, we go home, and I make dinner, or I miss and we go out to dinner. Deal?” She asked expectantly.

“Deal, darlin’,” I agreed. Ethel had been on a streak lately, and I knew she was going to get more than five. She was going to get her way, but I was ok with it.

She did her little dance of wiggling her ass at me, and then let the ball fly, right into the gutter. I busted out laughing as she stomped her foot and walked towards me. “I meant to do that,” she sassed as she walked past me and plopped down on the chair, slipping her shoes off.

I shook my head at her and gingerly sat down in the chair next to her. I looked at my boots and then my feet and wondered how the hell I was going to get them on. I had taken a pill before we left, so getting the fucking clown shoes on had been easy, now just walking was hurting my shoulder. I obviously had over done it.

“Sit back, I’ll get them,” Ethel said as she stood up and then kneeled down in front of me.

“I can get it,” I said as she lifted my foot and started untying the laces.

“Don’t be foolish, Gravel, I can tell you are in pain. What would take you ten minutes will only take me seconds,” she insisted. I looked down and saw she already had the laces undone and was slipping the shoe off. She repeated her movements on the other one and slipped my boots on.

“I feel like a fucking idiot,” I confessed.

She stayed kneeling in front of me; her head tilted back looking up at me. “It’s ok to need help.”

“I haven’t needed help the past forty years. It’s a hell of a time to need it now,” I drawled.

She shook her head, a smile touching her lips. Ethel was beautiful. Even at fifty-eight, she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. “How about we just eat here at the bar and then head home. We could rent a movie,” she suggested as she stood up, brushing her hands off on her jeans.

I slowly stood up, holding my arm close to my side. Ethel moved close to my side, her handing resting on my back. “Think I might fall over?” I chuckled.

She rolled her eyes at me and moved away. “I’m going to head to the bathroom, why don’t you grab a seat at the bar and get us a couple of menus,” she suggested and headed to the bathroom.

I slowly made my way to the bar and sat on the nearest bar stool. I nodded to the bartender at the other end of the bar and waited for him to make his way down to me.

Glancing at the door to the bathroom, I realized I liked it when Ethel fussed over me and made sure I was ok. It was kind of nice to have someone worry about you. She didn’t hover and try to take away my independence, though. She just made it, so I knew she was there if I needed her.

“Menus or just drinks?” The bartender asked.

“Both,” I replied as I grabbed the menus he offered.

“What’ll it be?” He asked, waiting for my drink order.

“Two southern comfort old fashioned. One sweet, one sour.” I replied.

“Those both better be for me,” Ethel said as she walked past me, straight to the jukebox that was behind me.

“I can have a drink, woman,” I drawled, spinning my chair around to watch her. That was something I had been doing a lot of lately, just watching her. Even before we had called our truce this morning, I had watched her.

She had changed into jeans and a loose fitting, dark burgundy tee and little ballet looking shoes. She was dressed casual, but she looked gorgeous. I had grown accustomed to the club pussy that always had makeup caked on and barely any clothes on. I liked Ethel’s make-up free look and having to imagine what she looked like under her clothes without her flaunting it in my face.

Music started pouring out of the jukebox and Ethel plugged a couple more quarters into the machine and made her selections.

“I’ve heard you play this song before. What is it?” I asked as she sat down next to me, and I swiveled back around to face the bar, seeing the bartender had made our drinks.

“Fleetwood Mac,” she said as she glanced over the menu.

“What’s the name of it?” I asked, not looking at the menu, but Ethel instead.

“‘Leather and Lace.'” She answered as she set her menu down in front of her and took a sip of her drink.

“Good?”

“Mm, my favorite. How did you know?” She asked taking another sip.

“We live in Wisconsin, doesn’t everyone drink old fashioneds?”

Ethel laughed, her eyes dancing. “You’re probably right.”

“So, what’s with the music?” I asked, draining half of my glass. I forgot to grab another pain pill, so I figured alcohol was going to have to work.

“I like music,” She stated.

“I know that, darlin’. You have it playing every second of the day. I meant, why do you always have it playing, don’t you need silence sometimes?”

“I don’t know. I guess it was after Henry passed, and Lo was long gone from the house. It helped to make the house feel full. I suppose it became like a friend to me. All I had to do was hit a couple of buttons, and I wasn’t so alone anymore.”

“Don’t you have some friends you can hang out with?” I asked, surprised by her answer. I had noticed Ethel never really got phone calls unless it was someone from the club, and no one ever stopped by. She was alone.

“No. I only moved up here five years ago. Plus, my son is the President those ‘hooligans who run around on their bikes all the time’.” Ethel said, her fingers curved into quotes as she spoke.

“You don’t have friends because of the club?” I asked, amazed that Ethel was running into problems because of the club. As far as we knew, the community had accepted the club well.

“Oh, it’s not that bad. Everyone just seems to keep their distance from me,” she said, playing it off.

“Does King know about this?” I asked as I plucked the menu out of her hands. Her head snapped to mine, her eyes pissed off.

“There’s nothing really to tell, Gravel. They keep their distance; I keep mine,” she said, irritated.

“Nobody should be keeping their fucking distance from you. I’ll talk to King about it,” I decided.

Ethel threw her head back and laughed. “And what are you going to do? Make everyone play nice with me? I’m fifty-eight, Gravel. This isn’t the playground where you can go around and bully people to like me. Your gesture is appreciated, but please just leave it alone.”

“You guys know what you want?” The bartender asked as he walked back up to us.

“Give us a minute,” I gruffed at him.

“No, we’re ready,” Ethel said at the same time.

The bartender’s glance bounced between the two us, trying to decide which one to believe.

“We’ll both have the mushroom and Swiss burger with fries and extra onions,” Ethel rattled off.

He scribbled the order down on his pad and headed into the direction of the kitchen.

“You just ordered for me,” I stated, stunned that she had just done that.

“You need to take a pill, but you need to eat also.”

“I didn’t bring my pills; I forgot them.”

“I know you did,’ she said as she grabbed her purse and started digging through it. ‘I saw the bottle sitting on the bathroom sink and grabbed it before we left. I knew you would need one eventually,” she mumbled as she continued her search.

“What the hell do you have in there?” I asked, amazed as she started pulling shit out of her purse trying to find the bottle of pills. She had her wallet, keys, glasses case, three or four pieces of mail, and an orange sitting on the bar.

“Stuff I need,” she muttered.

“Who the hell needs an orange in their purse?” I asked.

“I do. My blood sugars fluctuate sometimes, and it’s best to have some food handy.”

She also pulled out a granola bar and a sleeve of crackers. I seriously had no idea how she fit all this shit in her purse. “How often does that happen where you need to eat when you are on the go?” I asked, concerned that something more was going on with Ethel. I knew she had diabetes, but King said it wasn’t serious, that she just needed to watch what she ate.