Read Online Bankers' Hours by Wade Kelly - Free Book Online Page A

I’d never had straight male friends, other than Mel, so I shrugged it off as a possible maybe. Tristan had always been pleasant at the bank, so this was probably his nature.
    Ironically, he was also wearing blue—a blue T-shirt that said something about a Dogfish Head. I would have to look that one up when I got home, because I wasn’t sure why heads of dogfish were appealing, or even if dogfish were real fish. For all I knew they could be mythical creatures like jackalopes.
    “Are you hungry? I know I mainly suggested beer, but they do have good food.” Tristan turned onto Route 27 and glanced at me as he watched the road in front of us.
    “Not really. I ate some leftover stew an hour ago.”
    “Oh.”
    “Yeah. My sink decided to clog, and it took a few hours to take it apart and clean it. Then I had to put it all back together and make sure it didn’t leak. It was a whole ordeal, and by the time I was finished and showered, I was hungry. Besides, you said we were going out for a beer.”
    “Yes, you’re right. That’s what I said.”
    I didn’t understand why he sounded disappointed. I’d eaten because I’d been hungry an hour ago. This wasn’t a date, so I didn’t see the big deal.
    “I noticed you’re wearing your glasses.”
    “Um, yeah. My eyes were red this morning so I opted for the glasses. I probably look nerdy, but I hope that’s okay for a pub. I’ve never been to one.”
    He chuckled. “Guys wear glasses in pubs, Grant. It’s not a parochial school with a dress code. You’re fine.”
    Was he laughing at me or with me? I ignored it.
    After parking in a garage next to a stone building, he said, “So you’ve never been to a pub before?”
    “No.”
    He locked the truck, and we walked side by side to the entrance and down a sidewalk next to the building. “Then I’m glad I picked this one. It’s nice. I’ve never seen drunken disorder or rowdiness except maybe on Saint Patrick’s Day.” He opened the door for me and I went inside.
     
     
    THE EVENING went better than I expected. We talked about some of his adventures in the Navy. He’d enlisted and been deployed shortly after his daughter had been born, and went to college for four years after he’d gotten out. Tristan said he didn’t regret being in the Navy, but he’d been grateful his father had asked him to take over the family business while he went to college because it had given him a valid excuse to change careers. He said, “Being away on a ship so often right after Claire was born just about killed me. I missed her a lot.”
    He didn’t talk about his daughter’s mother, and I wasn’t sure why they weren’t together, but he did tell me he had Claire with him every other weekend and two weeks in the summer. He sounded pleased.
    I also learned that he loved craft beers, and Dogfish Head was a brewery. I made a mental note.
    “So, this was fun,” Tristan said as we walked out of the pub and headed to his truck. I was glad he’d picked me up, because I was feeling lightheaded even after the one beer.
    “Yeah. I can’t say I’ve ever gone out drinking before.”
    “I’d hardly call one beer drinking. It’s more like sampling.” We walked up the sidewalk toward the parking garage. I stumbled on an uneven part of the pavement, and Tristan grabbed my arm. “Whoa,” he said. “You okay? I guess one really is your limit, if you’re walking sideways.”
    I snorted. “No. I’m fine. It’s that bit of sidewalk,” I said as I turned around and pointed.
    “Okay there, soldier, anything you say,” he mocked. I don’t think he believed me.
    We entered the lower level of the garage, and I glanced around. Nothing looked familiar. “Where’d you park?”
    “Second level.”
    “What’d you drive?”
    “Blue Dodge Dakota. It’s this way.” He waved me to follow. “I can’t believe you’re this tipsy after one drink. I think next time we need to eat first.”
    “I’m f-fiiine,” I slurred, exaggerating