Welcome to Hell: Rediscovering First Love

“I’m sorry?” His expression changed to puzzlement.

“She’s alone with my mother.” No one was safe with Yancy.

Patrick sat another shot of Tequila in front of me and the sound of the glass against the ba

r enabled me to finally look away from Kerry. I winked at Patrick before I swallowed the warm liquid in one gulp just as I had done in my youth. Two down, better keep my wits about me.

“That’s my girl,” he said so softly that I thought I had not heard him correctly. Then, “I feel sorry for her,” he replied knowingly. “How is your mother these days?” Kerry asked with genuine concern.

Turning back to face Kerry I glanced up at eyes that still made my heart skip a beat. The man had the most beautiful eyes that I had ever seen. Warm, chocolate brown that in sunlight turned amber. He hadn’t changed much. His black hair just touched the collar of his brown leather jacket. His skin was dark which off-set his eyes. There was a five o’clock shadow that touched his jaw adding to rugged handsomeness. His form fitting jeans accentuated his slender waist and long lean legs. His shoulders were broader than before. His legs more muscular. The boy had become a man. He looked so damned good which made me wish that I looked better.

I had no makeup on my face. My hair was a tangled mess of curls that were flying about my face. The only saving grace was the flush of alcohol on my cheeks turning them pink. Straightening so that I wasn’t slumped over the bar I hoped that my pants weren’t too wrinkled. Absently, I ran a hand through my hair to straighten it as best I could.

“Yancy is okay. How’s your mother?” I asked unable to tear my eyes away from his.

They filled with sadness and then just as quickly he masked the emotion. “I feel foolish standing here,” he finally said “Why don’t we sit in the corner in a booth?”

“Why?” I asked stupidly. Mentally, I smacked my forehead. How dumb was I?

“Because I want to catch up with you,” he replied easily ignoring my faux paus.

“Patrick could I have a beer?” I asked. I owed Patrick for tonight.

Paddy handed me a beer. “You aren’t driving are you girl?” He asked seriously.

“I walked here to blow off steam,” I replied leaning across the bar, basically sticking my round ass in Kerry’s face so that I could kiss Patrick’s cheek.

Patrick saw Kerry’s expression and I could read it on his face. One of Patrick’s eyebrows was raised in speculation. Kerry was admiring the view of my ass as I leaned across the bar adding color to my already flaming cheeks.

Years ago I wouldn’t have felt so uncomfortable about following this man anywhere but then he hadn’t been a man. Then, he had been a boy and I was just a girl who had loved him with everything in me. When he left town, I thought that I would never recover.

Kat saw Esther McCoy, his mother regularly while we still lived here. She continued to see her grandmother when she visited during the summer and other school breaks. She had never formed a relationship with her father though and now he was standing in front of me waiting for me to sit down.

“How is Esther?” I asked him again when I was seated.

“She’s dying,” he replied somberly as he took a seat in the opposite side of the booth. My heart clinched at his words.

“I’m sorry Kerry.” I reached across the booth and took his hand without thinking. Comforting him was first and foremost in my brain. His eyes remained downcast but I knew he felt the same jolt that I felt at the touch of our hands. But still I couldn’t pull my hand away. “I came home because Yancy has a doctor’s appointment tomorrow. She had a biopsy on a lump in her breast. I’m praying it isn’t cancer. I can only imagine what you are going through.”

Why had I told him what I had told no one? The connection. He and I had been best friends. He knew what no one else knew about me. That had not changed.

“I hope Yancy’s results are better than my mothers’,” he responded with sincerity.

My mother hadn’t treated him well the entire time that we had dated but Kerry had not gone away until he felt he had no other choice. Yancy had made his life a living hell until he had to leave both Keegan and I. I was surprised that he could feel compassion for her. He looked up at me. He was across the table but it felt like only inches that separated us. In the confined space of the heavy wooden booth I felt as if we were alone in the pub. Everything and everyone in the bar didn’t matter.

We were close enough that I could smell Kerry’s breath, which smelled slightly of alcohol. His free hand was wrapped around the long neck of a bottle of Budweiser. In my head, all I could visualize was those hands caressing my body as he had when we were just teenagers. His hand in mine was slowly making circles against my thumb. No one had hands like Kerry. I had spent many hours watching him strum a guitar with his gentle hands the same way he strummed my body making it sing like the guitar. I mentally shook myself and tried to concentrate on the man here and now and not the past.

“Can I see Kat while you’re here?” Kerry suddenly asked. “I know that my mother sees her frequently or did until you moved to Kentucky.”

Was there a hint of anger in that statement or had I imagined it? The breath that I was about to expel caught in my throat. “Why?” The question came out more like a gasp than a spoken word.

“Because I want to know my daughter.” His hand slid up and down the neck of the beer bottle nervously. “A long time coming, I know.” His other hand continued with the slow circles on mine. My eyes kept going from the bottle to our connected hands. He had always played with something in his hand when he was nervous. That hadn’t changed about him either. His daughter had the same nervous habit.

“Everything I know about her is because of my mother’s reports to me. She was trying to get her under my skin.”

“It didn’t work,” I replied flippantly without looking at Kerry. Anger hitting my heart like a hammer for my daughter. He had hurt her by not being her father.

“Yes, it did. Gabby, I’ve ached to see her every day of her seventeen years.” His voice was soft and husky. His eyes couldn’t meet mine.