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jax
I looked around but didn’t see Gian or his cousin. He’d asked if I wanted to check out his fiancée’s bar, saying “the singer this Saturday is one of the best she books.” Sure enough, he was damn good. The bar, Boots and Brews, reminded me of an old-time honky-tonk.
Great vibe. Crowded place. Seemed like Gian’s fiancée had carved out quite a niche for herself in Kitchi Falls.
“Jax,” a voice called from near the bar. As I got a bit closer, Gian and Neo came into view. I’d never met his “Finger Lakes” side of the family before but had certainly heard a lot about them. Antonio Grado, according to his cousin, was both vice president of his family vineyard and one of the nicest guys going. You could definitely tell the two were related.
I shook Gian’s hand as he introduced him.
“Neo, this is my buddy Jax.”
“So you’re related to this loose cannon?” I said, referring to Gian.
“That’s the word on the street,” Neo said, his handshake firm. “In our family, Gian is actually considered one of the sane ones.”
Gian handed me a beer. There wasn’t an open barstool so I stood to the side.
“Tells me a lot about your family,” I said.
“Sorry we couldn’t grab another seat. The place is packed,” Gian said. “I almost feel like jumping behind the bar.”
Apparently, he helped out from time to time, but the bartender stopped, obviously having overheard him. “Don’t even think about it,” she said. “I have a system.” She looked at me, appreciatively, as if noticing me for the first time. “Gian is a control freak.”
“Is that so?” I asked.
“It is.” She looked as if she wanted to say more, and by the look in her eyes, I had an idea of which direction her thoughts were headed. And though she wasn’t bad looking, about the right age, she also wasn’t my type.
Not that I had a type, really. Except suddenly, spunky, smart-mouthed tree huggers seemed to be on the top of the list. I’d woken up that morning with the biggest boner in history, and it only took me a minute to remember the dream I’d been having. One where Natalie had stayed the night after she’d changed inside my house.
“There’s my girl.”
Taking the reason to end my conversation with the bartender, I said hello to Mazzie as she rubbed Gian’s neck from behind. “I should be giving you the back rub,” he said, turning around.
“Later. Too busy now. Hope you guys are enjoying the music.”
“This guy’s great,” I said. “And the place too. Reminds me of a honky-tonk we used to frequent near the base in Texas.”
“My dad owned one in Arizona,” she said. “Old Town Scottsdale. This is sort of an ode, or memorial or whatever, to him and the old place.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said about her dad.
“Thank you. And I’m sorry we have that in common. Gian said your father was a great guy.”
The lump in my throat that formed every time I thought about him, which was every day for years, kept me silent for a second until I found my voice. “The best. A real jokester. Loved to laugh.”
“Well, I hope you honor his legacy by doing the same.” She smiled. “Gotta go,” she said to Gian. “Will be back.”
And just like that, Mazzie was gone back into the crowd.
I thought about what she’d said. Honor his legacy by laughing. An intriguing thought.
“She’s something else, isn’t she?” Gian asked, watching me.
“You did good,” I said. “I can see why you’re locking this one down.”
“Speaking of.” Gian turned completely toward me. “You should come to the wedding.”
“Isn’t it in like three weeks? In Sicily?”
