Taking Charge (8 page)

But would she really know? What markers did she have
for that?

“Shall I go? I’m feeling like a spare part in this
double act,” Sarah spoke up.

“Eat your nutritious Devil’s food,” Robyn ordered,
smiling at Cole.

“So, how’s the roadhouse? As bad as you thought?”
Cole asked, changing the subject.

“Worse. Are you any good with wallpaper?” Robyn asked
him.

“Never tried it before.”

“Do you want to? I remember you saying you like new
experiences.”

“Don’t feel obliged, she does this. She’s been asking
everyone about their decorating skills,” Sarah said, pushing her
salad around the plate.

“Well, I wouldn’t be if Old Man Harrison hadn’t gone
and died,” Robyn said, pouting.

“Someone died?” Cole queried.

“It was a few years ago,” Sarah informed him.

“I’m off to the roadhouse next, wanna come?” Robyn
invited.

“Sure,” Cole replied.

“Can I drive your car?” Robyn asked with a grin.

It wasn’t far to Shaver Road, and soon Robyn was
pulling into the parking lot of Eddie’s Roadhouse. A large security
van was parked outside, and a man in overalls looked to be
installing new locks on the front door.

“New locks, huh?” Cole remarked as Robyn pulled up by
the entrance.

“Looks that way. Hey there!” Robyn called, opening
the window and greeting the man.

“Afternoon ma’am,” he replied.

“What are you doing?”

“Fitting new locks, ma’am. You work here?”

“Yeah, I’m the manager.”

“Ah, you must be Miss Matthers. Officer Willis said
you might be by. I’ve fitted new locks, front and back, and I’ve
installed a new alarm system. Shall I run you through it?” he
asked.

“Oh man, is it expensive? I have money, but it’s kind
of tied up at the moment,” Robyn began, pulling on the handbrake
and getting out of the car.

“No need to worry, ma’am. It’s all been paid for,
Officer Willis settled everything up already,” the locksmith
informed her.

“Brad paid for it?” Robyn said, looking at the man
for clarification.

“Yep. You’re all square with me. Wanna see what I’ve
done?” he queried.

“I think I’d like that. Come on Cole, come and see
the place,” Robyn called to him.

“So? What do you think?” Robyn asked, bringing Cole a
bottle of beer and brushing dirt off of one of the chairs.

The locksmith had given her new keys and run her
through the intricate workings of the new security system. She had
no doubt she was going to fail hopelessly at working it. She never
remembered her PIN number and had it written on a piece of paper
under the insole of her left shoe.

“I think you definitely need to find a decorating
firm,” Cole answered, accepting the drink.

“Yeah? You don’t fancy helping me strip? Wallpaper.
Strip wallpaper,” Robyn said, her cheeks glowing.

What the Hell was wrong with her? She was acting like
a teenager around him. Any second now she might ask him who his
favorite member of The A-Team was. She’d done that a lot in the
nineties. Boys had been keen to tell her, girls had looked at her
pitifully.

“I think you need professional help,” Cole said.

“I know that, but what about the decorating?” Robyn
replied with a nervous laugh.

“Are you sure you want to take this on? I mean, it’s
going to take a lot of work to get it straight,” Cole told her.

“I have to take it on. This and the hockey team,
they’re what Dad lives for. He may say he isn’t interested, but he
doesn’t mean it. When I was young, this place was buzzing. It had a
great reputation for food and we had bands here and everything. I
need to get that back,” Robyn explained.

She didn’t just want it back for Eddie; she wanted it
back that way for her. The roadhouse was where she had some of her
best memories; she didn’t want to lose those. The good memories
were what she clung to.

“It might take some time,” Cole said.

“I’ve got a couple of weeks,” Robyn informed him.

“Man, you’ve got your work cut out.”

“Well, I need to make a list, don’t I? I need to find
someone to decorate, I need to hire a chef and some more bar staff,
and I need to organize some posters telling people we’re back in
business. What else?” Robyn asked.

“You need to call suppliers, hammer them down on the
price of beer, and talk to the people at the diner…ask them the
best place to get produce. You’re going to need a menu, too,” Cole
said.

“I’ll find a pen and paper, there must be some here
somewhere, amongst all the dirt and grime and years of neglect,”
Robyn said, getting up and going behind the bar.

“So who’s this Officer Willis who’s kindly paid for
your new security? He your guy?” Cole asked.

“My guy? No! I don’t have a guy. Listen, about the
kiss yesterday. It was just a thing, you know, just because you
were really nice, and I just wanted to see what it would be like. I
mean, it wasn’t a prologue to anything,” Robyn explained, shifting
awkwardly from one foot to the other.

“Sure, I get it,” Cole responded, watching her.

“Cool. I mean, not that it wasn’t great or anything,
because it was…”

What had it been? She didn’t know. Her big mouth had
called him to a halt, and then she’d just kissed him, without
warning. She’d done some pretty out there things before but never
that.

“It was…” Cole prodded, waiting for her to finish her
sentence.

She was blushing now. A whole, full-on body blush
like someone had caught her in her underwear, dancing to
Madonna.

“To be honest, I get girls on planes kissing me all
the time. I think it’s customary, actually,” Cole said, easing the
tension.

“It is! You’re right, I read it somewhere,” Robyn
replied gratefully.

“So, Officer Willis…”

“Yes, Brad. He’s an old friend, you’ll see him
tonight at the arena. He plays for the Panthers. I’ll pay him back
for the alarm. I have money. I just need to get to the bank.
Anyway, soon I’ll be making a profit here, won’t I?” Robyn said as
she carefully peeled the label from her beer bottle so she had
something to write on.

“I like your optimism,” Cole replied.

“You being funny?” Robyn asked, returning to her
seat.

“No, I wasn’t. I meant it. It’s good to have a
project,” Cole answered.

“Yeah? And what’s yours?”

“At the moment, I’m trying to find a cure for
cancer,” Cole said straight-faced.

Robyn looked up at him, waiting for the smile and the
laughter as he admitted to the joke. It wasn’t forthcoming. In
fact, she had never seen him look more serious. It was like a
thought or a memory had come into his head and taken over.

“That’s what I do…at Gen-All Pharmaceutical,” he
added.

She watched him nod, and then he cleared his throat,
almost nervously.

“But hey, running a roadhouse sounds much more fun.
Bands. You need to book some bands,” Cole said quickly, pointing to
the list Robyn was compiling.

“You’re really clever, aren’t you? No wonder girls
are kissing you any chance they get,” Robyn said, locking eyes with
him.

“You’ll need furniture,” Cole added, gazing back at
her.

“Yep, furniture. I’m going to need new tables and
chairs,” Robyn said, writing it down.

“And a TV, there’s no TV in here. You need to show
sports.”

“Mr. Ryan, may I officially make you the first member
of Team Matthers?” Robyn asked him.

“Definitely, count me in,” he answered with a
smile.

He’d told her what he did. Actually told someone what
he really wanted to achieve. She obviously thought he was crazy,
but she hadn’t laughed out loud. In fact, she had looked at him as
if she could see right inside him. She was so different. She always
spoke before she thought about what she was going to say. She was
honest too and, if he was honest, he was disappointed the kiss
wasn’t a prologue to anything. Not that he was looking for anything
serious. A few months had gone by but, well, it was too soon to
think about anything else, wasn’t it? Besides, he had work to do.
He didn’t have the time or the headspace to get involved in
anything else. Look at what had happened the last time he had let
someone in.

She was cute though.

“So, honey how was your day?” Pam asked.

It was six p.m., and Pam, Bob, Robyn, and the twins
were all seated around the dining room table behind mountainous
portions of meatball stew. Robyn wasn’t sure whether to try and eat
it or climb it. The twins sat opposite her, swinging their legs and
catching her shin any chance they got.

“Good. I’ve got two decorating firms coming to look
at the roadhouse tomorrow and give me quotes. I’ve shaved five
percent off the beer prices, and I’m advertising for staff in the
paper,” Robyn informed her aunt.

“My, you have been busy! She’s been busy, hasn’t she,
Bob? Girls, stop swinging your legs like that and eat your food,”
Pam ordered.

“We never eat at the table normally, it’s because
she’s here, isn’t it? Why does everything have to change because
she’s here?” Sierra moaned, glaring at Robyn.

“Sierra!” Pam exclaimed in horror.

“Pam, if it’s too much having me stay, I understand.
I mean, you have your routines and things and…” Robyn began.

“It’s not too much having you stay, Robyn. You’re
always welcome in this house, you know that, you’re family. I
didn’t realize how rude my daughters had gotten. Frankly, I’m
embarrassed,” Bob said sternly, looking at Sienna and Sierra.

“So am I. What’s gotten into you two?” Pam wanted to
know.

Sierra and Sienna just looked sullenly back at their
parents and offered no response.

“It’s fine. Kids are kids,” Robyn insisted.

“No, it’s not fine. Come on you two, out with it!”
Pam ordered in a voice usually reserved for price checking at
Meijer’s.

“People at school say she’s a witch. They said
someone took her into the woods and hurt her. They say, because
she’s our cousin, they’re going to come and take us to the woods,
too,” Sierra blurted out, her eyes wide.

“Sierra, you’re not supposed to tell!” Sienna
exclaimed in fear.

Robyn looked at her plate of food and swallowed. A
familiar feeling of fear washed over her, and she adjusted her
position in the seat to disguise the visible shiver. There she was
again, transported back to another time when she was lost, alone,
and vulnerable.

“That is enough! Now, I don’t know who told you this,
but it’s not true. Come on girls, you’re nine, you know witches
aren’t real! Who are these people? I’ll speak to the teacher and
we’ll put a stop to this,” Pam said, flustered.

“Listen, thanks for the dinner, Pam, but I’d better
go. I’ve got to be at the arena at seven,” Robyn said to her as she
stood up from the table, her meal untouched.

“Want a ride?” Bob offered.

“Oh no, don’t worry, I can walk,” Robyn said.

“You will not walk that road, Robyn,” Pam ordered,
her tone severe.

“I’ll be fine,” Robyn answered, ignoring the loaded
response.

“No, let Bob take you. He wants to come anyway, don’t
you, Bob?” Pam urged him.

“If that’s okay with the new manager,” Bob said,
looking at Robyn and smiling.

“Sure,” Robyn accepted gratefully.

“Come on then, let’s go see what these Panthers are
made of,” Bob said, standing up.

Her mobile rang again on the drive. It had been
ringing all afternoon and she had switched it to silent. It still
vibrated though, reminding her she had to answer some time or make
a call. She didn’t want to talk, though, not even a polite
“checking in” conversation. It felt wrong now that she was back
here. All the justification she had accumulated over the years was
fading fast since her return.

“I can’t apologize enough for the girls, Robyn,” Bob
said.

“It’s okay. I have kind of invaded, and they’ve never
met me before.”

“That’s no excuse for it and what they said about
Jason…” Bob began.

“That all happened a very long time ago, eons ago,
almost a decade…it’s forgotten,” Robyn interrupted quickly.

“But still, it wasn’t nice to bring up bad memories
and…”

“So do you go and watch the Panthers every game?”
Robyn asked, cutting him off.

“Sure, I’m not one of those supporters who only watch
a team when they’re doing well. I’ve been to every game since
1987,” Bob reminded her.

“Are they really awful?” Robyn asked, putting some
chewing gum in her mouth.

“No, not awful…well, you know…” Bob began.

“No, Bob, I don’t know, and that’s half the
problem.”

“Well, they lost the main sponsor, and then money was
short for wages and players, so people went elsewhere. We have a
great new guy, though, Henrik. He’s Swedish, I think.”

“And how is the actual play on the ice? What sort of
a job has Grant been doing?” she asked.

“The best he could with what he had to work with.
Eddie’s better, because he’s more vocal and he lives and breathes
the Panthers, but Grant’s done okay,” Bob told her.

“Okay isn’t good enough, though, is it?” Robyn
remarked, looking out the window as the arena came into view.

Driving into the parking lot of the arena was like
going back in time. She had seen her last Panthers match the night
before she left. She had stuffed herself full of hotdogs and
pickles, thinking she might never taste either again. They had
lost, her dad had almost burst a blood vessel shouting at the
players and, when they got home, her mother had finished
packing.

“So, has the old place changed?” Bob asked as they
got out of the car.

“It’s been painted,” Robyn remarked, looking up at
the building and putting her baseball cap on her head.