Читать книгу South Texas Tangle - T.K. O'Neill - Страница 11

Daddy’s enthusiasm for father-son bonding was facing adversity. Danny’d asked nonstop questions what seemed like all day long and didn’t stop ‘til he finally fell asleep watching TV. Which meant Henning had to cut back on his drinking. And goddamnit, he had a bag full of reasons for celebrating. But that was no huge problem and he was dealing with it okay, at least until Cyn called and pissed him off, got him fucking furious if you want to know, and that required a shot or two of JW just to tamp down the desire to smash something.

But the night wasn’t all bad. No. Carrying the sleeping boy from the couch to the bedroom brought back some of Daddy’s good memories. Memories of the first two years of the boy’s life. Back when everything seemed so much better around here. Made Henning wonder how he’d gotten away from little things like that.

Must be the goddamn job, Henning thought, sitting on the couch staring at his empty low-ball glass. Goddamn graveyard shift throwing the whole marriage off course. Made him drink more and seek out whores and generally complicated his entire life. But a man had to support his family, didn’t he? That’s what a man did. And women and kids have to adjust to the man’s schedule. That’s the way things are supposed to be. Way things have always been. He’d put a roof over their heads, food on the table, clothes in the closets. And no, it wasn’t the fanciest stuff you’ll ever see, certainly not at the level Cyn’s old boyfriend Funky Bunky Owen could afford, but guys like Owen spent their lives working and selling and chasing after bucks instead of learning how to please a woman in the bedroom, something Henning believed himself quite proficient at.

So where the hell had that part gone?

First two years they couldn’t get enough of each other but now they fought more than they boned. Brought to mind that old deal about putting a penny in a jar every time you did it the first year of marriage and taking one out every time you did it after the first year, boys on the force claiming you’d never empty the jar.

No way Dan believed that. But the concept was beginning to spend more time in his thoughts than he appreciated, now and then making him wonder if he wasn’t doing something wrong. Or not doing something right. And now when he had the means to make things right—get Cyn her dream house somewhere—the goddamn woman was gone. Bag full of cash could buy a lot of mornings in bed and days watching the kid grow up and she picks now to have her goddamn identity crisis. Wasn’t so predictable it’d be hard to believe.

Soon as he caught up to her they could start making things right.

* * *

Big Dan had tossed and turned a bit during the night but this morning felt pretty good. Only had a few drinks last night, which maybe had something to do with feeling good. Danny’d wandered into the bedroom earlier, boy jumping in the bed just as Dan was drifting off again, but the kid’s smile and energy were so infectious Henning caught some of it. Dan never had much love for the beach but today he was truly looking forward to it. They’d start the day with Danny’s favorite breakfast: pancakes and Jimmy Dean sausage.

Dan took the box of Bisquick from the shelf and got a large bowl from the cupboard. Seeing the excitement and anticipation in his son’s eyes, Henning felt like he’d found a lost treasure. It was something both foreign and kind of familiar, this joy of parenting—if joy wasn’t too strong a word—and the feeling would keep him going long enough to show Cyn they didn’t need her around if she was gonna act like a cunt. He and Danny would hit the beach and collect a few shells and maybe even go in the water if the damn red tide was over with. Afterwards they could throw down a few cheeseburgers at Whataburger and then take in a movie or rent a video. And when Monday rolled around, take the kid to the daycare before going to headquarters and requesting emergency leave for as long as it took his crazy wife to come skulking back home. His fellow officers would not hear that part of the scenario—only the story of his struggling marriage and his need for a prolonged leave of absence to deal with these pressing family issues.

Anyway, that’s what he’d do if he decided the marriage was worth the effort. Constantly going back and forth on the issue, he sometimes thought he should just put Cyn and Danny back together and scoot down into Mexico on the lonesome, find his own ways to spend the million dollars—actually a million-and-forty-two—the ass-kicking sum he’d counted out after Danny drifted off to sleep last night. Would be no trouble finding south-of-the-border gash, willing chicks down there plentiful as clap at a Tijuana whorehouse: American tourists, local senoritas, hookers, whatever….

Yeah, Christ, that would beat hell out of putting dishes in the sink after cooking breakfast, goddamn things Cynthia should be here to do. Woman was at least good for something, even without blowjobs. Last thing he wanted to do was clean the place, housework being woman’s work, not worthy of a man with many pressing and important things on his mind.

Seriously? said a voice in his head.

Must be Cyn’s voice. Damn woman was always in his head messing with his thoughts. Stuff used to be easier to figure out before she got in there with her woman’s thinking and goody-goody ideas. One nice thing about whores—they didn’t tell you how to live. Knew their place in life, their purpose. And who the hell’d take the advice of someone got paid for sucking cock, anyway?

Danny Henning was having fun with his Daddy. Pancakes and sausage for breakfast and now they were getting ready to go to the beach. Daddy was putting the plates and things in the sink before they packed up the beach stuff. Danny had his pail and shovel ready. His Daddy would show him the safe places to dig where he wouldn’t hit a jellyfish and get a sting. Danny thought jellyfish was a funny name for a thing that looked like a balloon with weeds on it. Jelly being what he got with his bread and peanut butter, and a fish being something long and skinny, not round like a tiny beach ball.

“Can we go to the beach now, Daddy?” Danny said. He was wearing his orange beach shorts and purple Minnesota Vikings jersey mom gave him for Christmas because Daddy always brought home Dallas Cowboys’ stuff.

That oddly seductive feeling hit Henning again as he picked Danny up and hugged him to his chest. “Soon as I get my swim trunks and the fishing rods, we can go,” he said. “Got all your stuff together, big guy?”

“Right there, Daddy.” Danny pointed at a pile of plastic toys by the door.

“Sure you got everything? We can’t be coming back for stuff.”

Pulling on his father’s ear, Danny said, “Mommy always looks to see if I forgot stuff.”

“Mommy’s not here now, Danny.” Henning put his son down. “Us men are on our own today. We don’t need women to help us, do we, big guy? All we need is each other, right?”

“Okay, Daddy. Will mommy come to the beach with us?”

“Not today, Danny. You need to stop thinking about mommy. We can have fun without her around.”

Danny’s lower lip drooped slightly and he stared off into space. But then his eyes brightened again. “You gonna catch a shark today, Daddy?”

“Maybe I will. Never can tell what you’ll catch when you put a line in the ocean, son.”

Cyn was trying really hard not to pick up her phone and call home, believing she’d made some progress on the independence thing. She hated to give in so easily but the strings of her heart were tugging for her little boy. Faced with another day on her own, an entire one this time, she was vacillating. But now a tiny twinge of excitement percolated within her, the cute Minnesota boy at the diner reminding her what it’s like to have nice-looking men show interest. And the sparkling sun and enticing blue sky beyond the balcony door seemed to be encouraging her to “let loose a little.” But those were her sister Jeannie’s words and not hers and Cynthia felt only half-full or maybe half-empty, not believing the urge to have a cocktail before noon was necessarily a positive step.

Telling herself that a mother’s bonds should not be denied she gave in to her desire and picked up her burner, made the call. After ten rings without a response she clicked off, worrying that something was wrong with Danny. He did have those allergies and a predilection toward cedar fever, this being the season. Should she call her parents and have them drive out and check on her son? No. That was no good. Maybe Jean could go out to the trailer? But no, that was no good, either.

Reassuring herself that everything was fine and she was only a normal worrying mother, Cyn glanced at the clock on the bedside table and saw it was nearly eleven-thirty. She set down the phone—it was time to think rationally—and decided to go shopping to pass some time. An outing such as this deserved new clothing. Or, at the very least, some accessories for the beach. A bikini might be pushing things—but a sexy one-piece could be just the right thing.

And after shopping she could take lunch in the cool of a local restaurant—being careful not to eat too much and spoil the fit of the new swimsuit—and get in the right frame of mind for an afternoon at the beach. Then, with a better state of mind, she could try calling home again.

If she wanted to.