dad?”
“He’s doing better. Thank you.” I removed the straw he had dropped next to my Sprite out of its wrapper and popped it in the glass.
The first sip of pop washed away the bubble of excitement lodged in my throat. My name rang a bell because local business owners in Detroit knew of other local business owners. They probably talked about Papa’s heart attack like my family talked about what was happening in the community. Sometimes Detroit felt like a small town where everyone knows everyone. I thought it was different because of our fierce loyalty and desire to get the city back on top, but it was probably like that in large cities across the world. Or in certain areas, if not the entire city.
“Glad to hear. Joe’s too young for that shit.”
I nodded. Papa was a well-known figure in our community, not a celebrity, but he always made sure the Bertucci family continued my great-grandpa’s mission of being positive role models in the city, no matter what difficulties our family had on its plate at the time.
“Fucking Fabian,” Landon whispered into his glass before he lifted it to his lips and took a sip. Or rather, a chug. He’d finished half the beer in one tip back.
Without thinking, I rubbed Landon’s back and said, “You’ll get there. I know you will.”
When he turned to face me, his eyes were wide, and his mouth curled up into a sad but hopeful smile. That’s when I realized the back I rubbed didn’t belong to one of my brothers, and I quickly grabbed my Sprite with both hands.
“Thank you, Gaby. Sometimes I need that.”
“Need what?” I asked.
“A pat on the back. A confident word about how I’ll make it to the NHL. It’s hard to have people riding me all the fricking time.” He lifted his gaze toward his uncle for a split second before dropping it back to his glass.
“Everyone does.” This time I thought hard about it and placed my hand on his shoulder anyway. “Everyone needs encouragement. Especially during the hard times.”
Landon lifted his beer to his mouth again and drained it in one gulp. “How about you, Gaby? Do you ever need encouragement?”
“All the time.” I removed my hand from his shoulder as I spoke. “Right now.”
“Why now?”
Suddenly reality hit me, and I realized that I didn’t have the skills to shoot the shit or beat around the bush, so I spilled it.
“It’s so random to be sitting in a bar with you when we’ve never talked about anything but fruit, veggies, or Legos.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Landon’s shoulders shook briefly in a silent laugh.
“Why did you kiss me at the concert? How do you know so much about me? What brought on all this random attention?”
“When I left the store after your dad’s heart attack, you looked absolutely lost. I didn’t want to leave, but I didn’t know what to do. I tried to check in without sounding too nosy.”
“I got your messages and the flowers. They were gorgeous. But you never left your number.”
“Yeah.” Landon laughed. “Fail on my part. I’d heard you say you were going to the Twenty One Pilots concert in Chicago. We had a game there the night after so I bought tickets and—” Landon put his head in his hands. “Jesus, I sound
so
fucking creepy right now.”
“Well, no one has ever tracked me down before.”
“That didn’t help, Gaby.”
I patted his upper thigh. “Now that I know your motivations, I don’t think you’re creepy. It’s sweet that you would go out of your way to find out what I liked. I mean, you could’ve just asked me. But, ya know.”
“I’ve wanted to talk to you forever, Gaby. Like, really talk to you. And then your dad had a heart attack, and I stood there like an idiot.” Landon lifted his empty glass toward his uncle, who shook his head “no” as he filled up a pint glass for another customer.
If Landon’s drinking angered Brian, why did he serve him?
“What are you talking about? You called nine-one-one. I was so freaked
“He’s doing better. Thank you.” I removed the straw he had dropped next to my Sprite out of its wrapper and popped it in the glass.
The first sip of pop washed away the bubble of excitement lodged in my throat. My name rang a bell because local business owners in Detroit knew of other local business owners. They probably talked about Papa’s heart attack like my family talked about what was happening in the community. Sometimes Detroit felt like a small town where everyone knows everyone. I thought it was different because of our fierce loyalty and desire to get the city back on top, but it was probably like that in large cities across the world. Or in certain areas, if not the entire city.
“Glad to hear. Joe’s too young for that shit.”
I nodded. Papa was a well-known figure in our community, not a celebrity, but he always made sure the Bertucci family continued my great-grandpa’s mission of being positive role models in the city, no matter what difficulties our family had on its plate at the time.
“Fucking Fabian,” Landon whispered into his glass before he lifted it to his lips and took a sip. Or rather, a chug. He’d finished half the beer in one tip back.
Without thinking, I rubbed Landon’s back and said, “You’ll get there. I know you will.”
When he turned to face me, his eyes were wide, and his mouth curled up into a sad but hopeful smile. That’s when I realized the back I rubbed didn’t belong to one of my brothers, and I quickly grabbed my Sprite with both hands.
“Thank you, Gaby. Sometimes I need that.”
“Need what?” I asked.
“A pat on the back. A confident word about how I’ll make it to the NHL. It’s hard to have people riding me all the fricking time.” He lifted his gaze toward his uncle for a split second before dropping it back to his glass.
“Everyone does.” This time I thought hard about it and placed my hand on his shoulder anyway. “Everyone needs encouragement. Especially during the hard times.”
Landon lifted his beer to his mouth again and drained it in one gulp. “How about you, Gaby? Do you ever need encouragement?”
“All the time.” I removed my hand from his shoulder as I spoke. “Right now.”
“Why now?”
Suddenly reality hit me, and I realized that I didn’t have the skills to shoot the shit or beat around the bush, so I spilled it.
“It’s so random to be sitting in a bar with you when we’ve never talked about anything but fruit, veggies, or Legos.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Landon’s shoulders shook briefly in a silent laugh.
“Why did you kiss me at the concert? How do you know so much about me? What brought on all this random attention?”
“When I left the store after your dad’s heart attack, you looked absolutely lost. I didn’t want to leave, but I didn’t know what to do. I tried to check in without sounding too nosy.”
“I got your messages and the flowers. They were gorgeous. But you never left your number.”
“Yeah.” Landon laughed. “Fail on my part. I’d heard you say you were going to the Twenty One Pilots concert in Chicago. We had a game there the night after so I bought tickets and—” Landon put his head in his hands. “Jesus, I sound
so
fucking creepy right now.”
“Well, no one has ever tracked me down before.”
“That didn’t help, Gaby.”
I patted his upper thigh. “Now that I know your motivations, I don’t think you’re creepy. It’s sweet that you would go out of your way to find out what I liked. I mean, you could’ve just asked me. But, ya know.”
“I’ve wanted to talk to you forever, Gaby. Like, really talk to you. And then your dad had a heart attack, and I stood there like an idiot.” Landon lifted his empty glass toward his uncle, who shook his head “no” as he filled up a pint glass for another customer.
If Landon’s drinking angered Brian, why did he serve him?
“What are you talking about? You called nine-one-one. I was so freaked
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