explained to myself, which was totally true. In Southern Florida I couldn’t swing my cock without hitting at least three Diego Martinez’s. Then I read what was written below his name and I jumped back from it like it had shocked me. Maybe I’d suffered a lot more mental trauma by the hands of Chop then I’d realized because I was a few ‘the sixth sense’ moments away from printing out my own one-way ticket to one of those nice and cozy padded rooms with no windows.
Diego Martinez
Loving father, husband, grandfather.
Laid to rest in the grounds he cared for lovingly for over thirty years.
Now watching over his hard work from his place in heaven.
We celebrate his life.
May 5th 1944 - June 17th 2016
Delayed long term brain damage.
It was the only explanation for both the hallucinations and the pounding headache.
“Preppy...?” I loved hearing her say my name. I spun around to find the other person in the world who at times had me thinking I was going crazy. Because there, standing less than ten feet from me, wearing a strapless yellow sundress that flowed around her knees, was none other than the Doc herself, staring at me with a concern etched into her forehead.
“You by chance didn’t see a grounds keeper around here did you? Grey coveralls? Looks like the guy from the Machete movies?”
She looked around the empty cemetery. “No...should I have seen him?” she asked slowly. Her focus dropped from my face to the grass stains on my jeans. “Are you okay?”
I held out my hand with my palm facing her. “Hang on. Gimme a sec, Doc.” With my head still thundering I shut my eyes tightly and then open them again, sure enough Dre was still there, but since I was going crazy and all I didn’t trust my own vision and needed more evidence. “I’m going to ask you a question and I just need you to answer it for me okay?” I took a step forward and Doc flashed me a small white toothed smile, doing a shit job of hiding the concern etched into her black corneas.
“Okay...” she said hesitantly.
“Just tell me the truth, Doc...are you really here right now?” I asked still not believing that my girl was finally home with me.
Dre looked down to her feet as if she were checking out to see where ‘here’ was. “Yeah, I mean. I think so.”
“Just stay right there,” I ordered, not wanting to get my hopes up before I had solid evidence. I held out my arms straight, locking my elbows in a very frankenstein-esque stance. I moved forward slowly and didn’t stop until I smelled the lavender of her shampoo and my hands were resting on her shoulders. I squeezed my fingers, her soft skin was warm and very much alive beneath my touch.
“You really are here,” I whispered, tipping up her chin so I could get a better look at the freckles on her nose.
“I’m really here,” she said as if she really couldn’t believe it herself.
“You’re really here,” I said again, interrupting her and giving her shoulders another squeeze.
“Satisfied?” she asked, her eyes locking onto mine. The air around us grew thick and charged. Suddenly, touching her shoulders wasn’t enough.
When it came to Dre it would NEVER be enough.
“Fuck no. Not even close,” I admitted, resting my forehead against hers. “What time is it?” I asked.
“It’s time. Everyone’s starting to show up at the house, even Kevin’s coming,” she said, pulling me by the hand. I still wasn’t sure if the kid was my brother but he was enough of a delinquent to definitely give me reason to believe it was a possibility. “I have to go pick up my dad from the airport, but I’ll be back. You sure you want to do this? Meeting the parents is kind of a big deal you know,” she said, biting on her bright red lip.
“It is. And I’m totally sorry I can’t introduce you to my parents but I don’t know who my real dad is, King killed my stepdad, and my mother is a super cunt.”
“Duly noted.”
I nodded and she smiled brightly. I held onto her hand and let her lead me through the same cemetery I’d chased her through years ago. I didn’t know where we were going, just that she had something to show me, but I decided that Dre could be dragging me through the gates back to hell and I wouldn’t of cared.
I’d follow my wife anywhere.
“Oh, I almost forgot, you’ll need this,: she said tossing me something soft. I knew what it was before I opened my hand. “I think it’s time,” Dre said.
I unfolded my palm and ran my thumb over the pink and yellow plaid of the bow tie in my hand. I smiled.
It was definitely fucking time.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
DRE
My father twisted around in the passenger seat and with his mouth slightly agape he ran a palm over the the supple black leather in one slow appreciative motion of admiration like he was inspecting a stud horse. “You sure I can’t keep it? I mean, it’s not like he’d ever let you drive it. You’re a terrible driver. Remember when you ran over Mrs. Stephens cat?” My dad teased with a wink.
“Excuse me?” I asked, raising my voice several octaves in mock offense. “If you remember I’d JUST gotten my driver’s license that week! And not for nothing but I’ll have you know that cat was suicidal.”
“A suicidal cat?” my father asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“What else would you call it?” I lightly smacked the wheel. “That cat was mean as hell. And not to mention a hundred years old. And what black cat darts out across an unlit road in the middle of the night?”
“A suicidal one,” my father deadpanned, but his straight face only lasted for a beat before his smile reappeared and he began to laugh, low and loud. It was a sound I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed until right then.
It had been way too long.
“So OLD MAN, unless you want me to drive your side of the car into the causeway rails I suggest you be nice to your daughter about her driving skills,” I teased back. “And NO you can’t keep it,” I said, patting the dashboard. “You did a great job on her, Dad. He’ll love it and I promise that she’ll be in good hands.”
My father’s laughter finally subsided. “I sure hope so, darling.”
“He’ll love her,” I assured him again, but when I glanced over to him I realized that it wasn’t just the car he was talking about.
“Not as much as I do,” my dad said, his eyes welling up with tears.
“No,” I said, feeling my chest tighten and my throat start to close. “No,” I repeated, pointing accusingly at him while trying to focus my attention out of the front windshield so I wouldn’t miss our turn. “You are not allowed to make me cry. This is a happy trip.” After finding the road and making the turn I risked glancing back at my father. “We’ve cried enough tears haven’t we?” I asked, sniffling back my own tears.
My father cleared his throat. “That we have. That we have.” I turned into the driveway but instead of parking in front of the garage next to the other cars I’d prearranged with Mr. Ronson a few houses down from the house to use his driveway so Preppy wouldn’t see his surprise before it was time. My stomach flipped wondering what his response would be.
“He’s not like other guys,” I explained to my dad for the seventh time since we’ve been in the car together. Earlier Ray and I picked him up at the airport in King’s truck before she dropped both of us off at the auto-transport center to receive the car and make sure it survived the journey. I had held my breath through the entire inspection, but luckily, she was good to go.
I went to grab my dad’s bag from the trunk but he stopped me. “I’m staying with an old friend in town. No need to take that out. I’ll pull it out when I call for a cab later.”
“What friend?” I asked, he hadn’t mentioned a single thing in the weeks leading up to his visit. I’d always just assumed he’d stay with us.
He switched the subject and led me away from the car before I could ask him more about this mystery friend. “And don’t you worry about what I’m going to th
ink of him. You’ll remember that I have spoken to him a couple of times before so I have a little idea.”
You have no fucking idea.
“Yes, but those weren’t good conversations. I just, I don’t want you to hate him. It’s important to me.”
“Darling,” he said, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and pulling me in close as we made our way over to the gate. “I’m your dad,” he lowered his voice to a whisper when we heard the partygoers in the backyard and saw the flame of the bonfire. “It’s my duty to hate whoever you choose to love. But,” he flashed me a big smile. “You’re not exactly like other young women so why would I expect you to be with a man like all the others? Have you seen that dating show? The Single Man? Honestly if that’s what the young men of today behave like then I’m glad you like this man who ...how does the saying go? Likes to beat hard on his own drum.”
I chuckled at his total failure to say ‘Beat of his own drum’, but when it came to Preppy, beat his own drum hard worked just as well. “Yeah, Dad. Something like that. And...” I paused and turned to him. “Just...thank you. For everything,” I said in an almost whisper. “I don’t deserve a dad as great as you.”
“Yes, you do,” he argued as we started walking again. You deserve the world.”
“One more thing,” he said, pointing his finger in the air as the thought came to him.
“What?” I asked, a knee jerk sense of dread hit me instantly.
My dad contorted his face. “Do I have to call him Preppy?” And with that the dread cleared and we made our way into the party, arm and arm, laughing.
I never answered him.
Ray and Thia were already sitting around the fire talking. I introduced my dad to both of them and then to Billy who got my dad talking about saltwater fishing in no time. While they chatted I scanned the yard for Preppy who was in the corner talking with King and Bear. Their voices traveled as they all spoke excitedly.
“You were there dammit!” Bear yelled, pacing back and forth. Preppy covered his mouth with his hand like he was stifling a laugh. “You talked to me every single day. You were like my...my voice of reason or some shit like that.”
“Do you know how fucking stupid that sounds, Bear?” Preppy asked. “I mean, let’s put aside your delusion that you heard me talking inside your big head when you thought I was dead...” he raised his arm above his head and pointed down to himself. “...And let’s focus on what the fuck you were smoking that made you think that THIS GUY RIGHT HERE could ever be your voice of fucking reason?”
Bear tugged at his hair and growled. “Fuck it, I give up on life, man.”
“Good call. Because seriously, you’re sucking at it,” Preppy said, followed by King’s deep bellowing laugh and a groan from Bear.
As if he sensed me looking at him he turned around. When our eyes met his smile only grew brighter. He jogged across the yard and lifted me up into his arms. “I have a surprise for you,” I murmured into his ear.
“Anal?” he shouted the question. The yard grew silent and the dozen or so party goers turned their attention to us, including my dad who cleared his throat.
“Prep?” I asked, he still hadn’t let me down and was snuggling his nose into my hair.
“This is my dad,” I said. Preppy let finally let me go and in the most Preppy move ever he also seemed to give no shits that he just shouted the word ANAL in front of my father who he was meeting for the first time.
“Hi Mr. Capulet. I’m Samuel Clearwater,” Preppy announced happily, “I’ve thought about this moment a lot and I wanted to let you know that I will take no less than three furlongs of land and seven of your finest milking goats. That’s my final offer, Sir.” Then, without missing a beat he ignored my father’s still extended hand and wrapped him in a tight hug without moving me out of the way first. Therefore, I became the meat in a hug sandwich between my two favorite men in the entire world.
I also couldn’t breathe.
I’d never been happier.
“Excuse me, son?” my dad asked after Preppy finally let us go. Well, let my dad go. I was still plastered to his side. His arm around my waist, his fingers dancing on my hip.
Still.
Never happier.
“I thought that’s how this whole thing works? First the men negotiate. That’s how they do it in the movies. Although we are doing it a little backwards so I can understand the confusion,” Preppy deadpanned.
“What the fuck kind of movies are you watching?” I asked, not even caring that I just swore in front of my father who was staring at Preppy as if he just sprouted another head from his neck. I couldn’t NOT smile up at him and his craziness. “Furlongs? Goats?”
Preppy shrugged, “I don’t know, Doc, the kind where farm animals and land are exchanged before shit like this goes down. Maybe it was the Princess Bride...” he wondered, looking off to the bay for a beat before focusing his smile back on my dad whose eyebrows were drawn in so tight they made a V down the middle of his forehead so sharp I thought it might slice his face in two.
“Wait, how what shit works?” my dad asked, using a rare swear word of his own. “What are we talking about here?”
Preppy released me temporarily to step over to the mismatched coolers on the grass against the back porch. He tossed a beer to my dad who caught it and immediately popped the top. Preppy pulled out two more, opening both of them before handing one to me. “Well, I suppose I could settle for one less furlong of land. I tell you what, sir, as soon as I figure out how much a furlong of land is, I’ll get back to you with my new terms. Sound good?” Preppy asked, taking a sip of his beer.
My father sighed, and I tried my hardest not to laugh knowing full well what it’s like to meet Preppy for the first time. “Son, you either need to tell me what you’re talking about or up your medication, because I’m an old man and you’ve got me spinning in circles over here and I’ve only had a sip of beer.” He looked at me. “Do you know what he’s talking about?” I shook my head because honestly I had no idea, but I knew there was a point, there was always a point.
Well, sometimes there was a point.
My dad took another swig of his beer and I did the same, the cool bubbles tickling my tongue and throat. Of course it just so happens that Preppy waited until my father and myself had a mouthful of beer to explain himself, which resulted in the two of us spraying beer out of our mouths and noses.
On ourselves.
On each other. And to the delight of others, on everyone within a three feet radius.
“Doc’s dowry of course,” Preppy explained like we should have already known. “You know, for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”
“Am I cattle?” I asked.
“I don’t know? Do you want to be?” Preppy asked, waggling his eyebrows.
“I don’t even know what that means!” I laughed, swatting him on the shoulder.
“Ahem,” my dad said, shaking his empty beer bottle. “I think I’m going to need another one of these before this conversation goes any further.”
Preppy jogged off to get him another one as Bo came crashing into my leg. Max and Sammy had been chasing him around the yard. My father didn’t miss a beat. “Is this the famous Bo?” he asked, crouching down.
Bo hid behind my leg.
“He’s a little shy,” I explained to my father. I reached around to give Bo’s hair a rustle. “Bo this is your...” I paused, not knowing what my dad wanted to be called. Thankfully he finished for me.
My father waved me off. “Bo I’m your Grandpa. You can call me Grandpa or Papa or...” I gave my dad a stern look to remind him that Bo didn’t talk. “You can call me whatever you would like.” Dad took his open hand and held his thumb to his forehead. Bo peered out from behind me. When Dad was sure Bo was looking he moved his hand away from his face making two small arches in the air. “That’s the hand sign for Grandpa.”
My heart melted and I felt like I was going to cry. “What the heck’s wrong with you?”
/>
“I have something in my eye!” I snapped, and my father just laughed. Bo pointed up at me and smiled at his new grandpa. “Oh great, you’re making fun of me too!” I said, reaching around to tickle him.
“I have something for you, Bo,” my dad said. Preppy came around then with my dad’s beer in hand. Dad opened his wallet. Your mom says you’re six years old which means I owe you six years worth of birthday, Christmas, easter...” he counted out several bills before taking everything from his wallet and pushing it into Bo’s hands.
“Dad you don’t have to do that, especially since...” I started but stopped not wanting to bring up my dad losing his store and damage his pride.
“Especially since what? You can say it dear,” Dad said, standing up. Preppy knelt and helped a smiling Bo count his money.
“Especially since you LOST your business,” I said in a low voice.
Dad surprised me by laughing. Preppy picked up Bo and placed