get there.”
“Thanks, Shadow.” I turned and carried Reagan down the stairs that led to the beach and then back to the employee and vendor parking lot.
“Billy, Billy, Billy, Billy, Billy.” Reagan repeated my name over and over until I put her in my truck.
I got her buckled in and when she fell silent, I looked up and saw that her head was resting back and her eyes were closed.
“I see you found her.”
Jimmy’s voice sounded behind me. I made sure that Reagan’s arms, legs, and dress were all safely in the vehicle before quietly shutting the door. When I turned, I saw a shit-eating grin spread across my brother’s face.
“Yeah, thanks,” I ignored the clear amusement he was getting out of this.
He shook his head. “I never thought I’d see the day that the man, the myth, the legend, Billy Panty Dropper Comfort would drop everything and come runnin’ for a girl.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying this.”
“I really am.” His smile widened but then dropped. “Except, shit. Now I owe Hank a Benjamin.”
“What?” I asked, only half paying attention as I walked around to my side of the truck.
“I bet Hank a C-note at Pop’s memorial that you weren’t in love with Reagan.”
In love?
What the hell? My brothers and I never talked about the L word. We barely said it to each other, not that often, and never in the context of a female.
“After I showed Abernathy the door, I asked where you were and he said that you left with Reagan. I tried to go find you right then, to calm you down, but he stopped me. He said that Reagan could handle it. I asked, how the hell he figured and old Hank said that I’d be surprised what love could do. I thought he was full of shit, so I bet him one hundred dollars that he was wrong.”
I started to argue with him, but didn’t have the words. So instead, opened the door, hopped up, and rolled down the windows, hoping that the fresh air might help Reagan not to upchuck. When I started to pull out, I saw that Jimmy took off his Braves baseball hat and held it against his chest, a somber expression on his face.
“What the hell are you doing?” I called out.
“Showin’ my respect with a moment of silence for the end of an era. The Panty Dropper has dropped his last panties.”
“Dumbass,” I mumbled as a smile spread on my face.
As I drove back down the service road I wondered what would’ve possessed Hank to say that about Reagan. He hadn’t said anything to me, not that he would’ve. It was Hank, after all.
Love. That was such a big word. I knew that Reagan was different, but love? Did I even believe in love?
My father’s warnings played in my head.
“Don’t ever fall in love, Billy Boy.”
“If you learn anything from your old man, please, don’t fall in love.”
“The Comfort Curse is real! Love is a death sentence.”
“Whatever you do, don’t fall in love.”
After my mom died, every time he got drunk—which basically happened on a daily basis—he’d try and drill it into my head not to fall in love. It was pretty much the only rule he ever had in our house. He didn’t give a shit if we skipped school, got arrested, did drugs…but if he thought that one of us was getting serious about a girl, he lost his shit.
I knew that part of the reason that Hank left and didn’t move back in until I turned eighteen was because of how Pop treated his high school girlfriend.
I’d never come close to feeling what I felt for the woman passed out beside me. If Pop was still alive, I knew he’d have a lot to say about it. The irony wasn’t lost on me that I’d met her at his will reading.
When I pulled up in front of the boarding house, Mrs. B was sitting on her porch in a rocking chair, folding fan in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. As much as I’d have loved to take Reagan back to my place, I had to go back to the bar and I didn’t want her waking up disoriented.
“Evenin’, Mrs. B!” I waved as I got out.
“Billy Comfort! What are you doin’ back here?”
“Just droppin’ my friend off.” I circled the truck and opened the door. After unlatching the seatbelt, I pulled Reagan out. She stirred in my arms and mumbled, “Billy.”
“Yep, it’s me