Page 78 of Rome
“Nope, got laid.” He retorted with a broad smile. I flipped him off as he plopped his ass down across from me in the booth.
“I ordered for you.”
He shrugged. “As long as there’s coffee and bacon, I don’t care what I eat.”
Our server brought the food out a minute later. Martie’s mom had started this place years ago and had been friends with Grandma Frankie. Her eyes lit up when she saw Jagger.
“How’s Molly? I haven’t seen her in a while.”
“She’s doing fine. I’ll make sure I bring her with me next time.” She had a soft spot for Molly, since Molly and Jag had met right here in the diner last year.
I picked at my pancakes and bacon, while Jagger inhaled his like he hadn’t eaten in a week. When he caught me eyeballing him, he just smirked.
“Burned a lot of calories this morning, bro.” I flipped him off again. I didn’t burn too many calories jacking off, which was the only action I’d gotten in over six months, since the last time Abby and I had been together. I refused to include my night with that fucking stripper in my recollections. She didn’t fucking count.
“What’s up with you? Didn’t Skid’s brother work out when you met with him?”
“Nah, he’s gonna be a good fit. Starts tomorrow, so that’s one fuckin’ thing going right for me anyway.”
Jagger looked at me with concern, then put his fork down.
“What’s wrong? You look like shit, even more so than usual.”
I took a deep breath and told him about Grant-Motherfucker-Mowery, whomy wifemight be serious about, who was takingmy wifeon a romantic fucking getaway next weekend. Yes, I know technically she’s my ex-wife, but the reality is, I’ll consider Abby to be my wife until the day I die.
Jagger just nodded slowly when I finished spewing my feelings all over the table. He didn’t say anything for a minute or two.
“I’m sorry. Are you OK?”
“No, I’m not fuckin’ OK, Jag. I’ve lost my wife, I’ve lost my kids, and now I’m losing my goddamned mind!” My voice was a little louder than I intended, and the small group of church folks at a nearby table – God’s church, not Guardians’ Church – shot very un-Christian looks my way. For people who believed that “Thou shalt not judge”they sure were a fucking judgmental group of pricks.
“Have you talked to that Kim chick?”
“Yeah, we talked through it. And don’t worry, I’m not drinking.”
“Have you checked this guy out?”
“I sent his info to Bull. I’m hoping he has something for me today. Abby said Randy ran a check on him already, and he’s clean.”
“So, you’re just gonna stand by and lose her to this Grant asswipe?”
“I don’t have a fucking choice, Jag. I already lost her, remember? And fuck it all, I want her to be happy. I do, dammit, I just…I just wish she could be happy with me.”
“Have you told her that?” I rolled my eyes, because we’d had this discussion even more times than Kim and I had. “Look, Rome, I can’t even pretend I know what you’re going through, but I do know that there’s no way I’d ever give Molly up without a fight.”
“I did fight, dammit. I fought, until I realized that being with me was hurting her too fucking much. So, I let her go. I manned the fuck up and I put her first for once. We’re in a better place now. We’re getting along OK. We’re doing this co-parenting bullshit. The kids are happy and stable. I can’t risk fucking that up. When she told me to leave, she couldn’t even stand to look at me, man. Hell, she still can’t sometimes. I can’t risk that again.”
“Yeah, I know the feeling.” I hated that Abby was avoiding my brother because of this shit. I knew it hurt both of them. She talked with Molly at work a little, but she hadn’t had much contact with Jag.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know you are.” He sighed and ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “I need you to listen to me. You fought then, but you didn’t have the right tools to win her back. You’re a different man now. You’re sober, you have your head on straight about your priorities, you’ve learned to share your feelings – thanks for that, by the way,” he said with an exaggerated eye roll. “You aren’t the same man you were in November. You deserve a second chance, or at least the right to ask for one.”
“Here are your checks, guys. Do either of you want a coffee to go?” I was relieved at Martie’s interruption. I knew Jagger meant well, but his words just gave me hope that I knew I shouldn’t feel. It would just hurt worse when she turned me down again, and I knew she would. After all, she wasgetting seriouswith Grant-Motherfucker-Mowery.
She got us both to-go cups, and we left a few minutes later, with Martie giving us a huge smile when she saw the tip we left. We always tipped extra-well at the diner. You don’t want to piss off the people who make the best milkshakes in town.
Church was fairly routine, with the usual updates about the various businesses. When it was my turn, I shared that I’d hired Skid’s brother, Diego.
