Is he a friend, or relative?”
“He sure as hell isn’t related. Jury’s still out on the friend part. How about a blonde woman, not very tall, in great shape, really good looking?”
“We get a lot matching that description, but none so far today.” Isobelle’s expression hardened slightly.
“Well, I would suppose you do.” Grant slowly brushed back his dark brown hair.
Annie Sims was all Grant could think about. He wanted to see her brilliant smile, her glimmering blonde hair. The anguish he felt at the thought of not being with her was almost more than he could bear. Time had moved so rapidly. Law school, the jobs since he got out of school, the time alone. The thought that nothing was ever going to slow down, that everything would just keep flying past, yet the time he spent alone did not pass quickly. That time just crawled. But the years before, the really good years, the years with Annie, they were fading quickly. He wanted to believe things would be good again. When things were good, there was a feeling they always would be. Now, Annie was gone, jobs came and went, and here he was alone. The thought of seeing Annie again gave him hope that maybe the best had not come and gone for good, but might yet return again. If he could see her, there was hope.
“Are you sure I cannot get you anything else? Something to eat, perhaps?”
“No, but thanks. Is it all right if I wait here? My friend would not think to call the room, but he will think to come here. He might come here and stay here, never make it to his room.”
“Of course, you may stay here as long as you like.” Isobelle smiled.
“A lot worse places to be than a bar.”
“I think so, as well.”
“Kind of quiet in here, I’m OK with that. My friend gets here, we can kiss that goodbye.”
“He does not like quiet?” Isobelle cocked her head to one side.
“Oh, I don’t know if you could say that. Quiet just sort of seems to vaporize when he’s around.” Grant nodded his head very slowly.
“Does he talk a great deal?”
“Something like that.”
“How long have you been friends?”
“Since high school.”
“You are from the same place?”
“No. He’s from back east, but moved west. He sort of wants everyone in the west to know he is smarter than they are.”
“You do not seem like that, so how is it that you are friends, and for so long?”
“Well, believe it or not, he is really smart, and can be pretty funny. I would never tell him that.” Grant made a clicking sound with his tongue. “He’s been in some sort of trouble, and I haven’t seen him in a while. Just have to see how bad he is.”
“I am sure he cannot be that bad.”
“You will probably have to tell me about his trouble, because he’ll probably forget. As for how bad he is, you’ll see.”
Grant leaned back in his chair at the bar, feeling the tightness of his body. His thinking was slow. Lack of sleep the night before, combined with a car wreck, and precautionary pain medicine given at the hospital were not allowing him to function as he would like. He wanted to get out in the sun for a while, but knew Rex would come to the bar, and probably stay there until they hauled him out before he would come outside to look for him.
“Just relax here, I am sure your friend will come along, and that he will not be any trouble. I will be right back.” Isobelle said, walking away and out of sight.
Grant laughed, watching her as she left. He looked around the room. The space was so much larger than the small motel he and Annie had stayed at on their first visit to Palm Springs together. He could not remember how long ago, four years, probably more. The décor of the hotel was so ornate, it reminded him that had he stayed with being an attorney, places like this would not seem so foreign to him. He looked down at the snaps of his western shirt, at his hands resting on the knees of his blue jeans, down to his cowboy boots, then back around at the adornment of the furnishings of the room. He leaned, looking at the arms of the chair he was sitting in, then back around the room. He was clearly out of place, dressed in his cowboy attire, surrounded by luxury. It had been a long time since he had been in any place remotely this nice, and that was back when he and Annie were together. He was having a difficult time determining which was nostalgia and which was automobile accident, thinking his life not dissimilar to the wreck. He could hear a commotion around the corner that seemed to be coming his direction, just like everything else.
“You probably just called me a sonofabitch,” the commotion yelled across the hotel lobby. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
“Your ears burning?” Grant saw an unkempt figure with sandy dirty-colored messed up hair, just short of six feet tall, waddling briskly, which was Rex’s way. Grant stood up, slowly, carefully.
“It’s been a long time. Look at you, still dressing like a goddamn cowboy. I never thought I would say this, but it’s great to see your sorry, skinny ass!” Rex said, throwing his arms around his friend.
“Been a while. Easy there.”
“Still a talkative bastard. What’s the matter, what happened now?”
“Some bastard ran a stop light and plowed-into me.”
“Shit!”
“No, but it’s a wonder I didn’t.” Grant tried not to laugh at his own joke.
“Damn, that sucks.”
“At least I’m still above ground. And this is the first time I had ever had a police car take me somewhere I actually wanted to go.”
“Still above ground, and didn’t mess yourself … always the wit. What’s a guy got to do to get a drink around here?” Rex asked, loudly.
“I would think the usual way, though it’s a possibility that here they may they do it by telepathy.”
“That’s why I picked this place, ’cause you’re too goddamned dumb to fucking ask for stuff, so they just do it for you. Maybe we can throw everybody but the good looking women out of the place, and close the doors ’til Sunday, what’d ya’ say?”
“Might want to let somebody in later….” Grant said.
“Oh, right, food, good thinking. Man, that sucks about the wreck. How’d the other guy fare?” Rex had his arm around Grant.
“I think they hauled him in. You want to put that bag up in your room?” Grant said, motioning to Rex’s bag.
“Nah, get one of the guys,” Rex looked around for one of the staff passing by until he made eye contact, pointed at the bag, took money out of his pocket and waved it just above his waist. He pointed to the bar. “They’ll get it, they always do.”
“Still an ambitious bastard, aren’t you.”
“I
