Page 13 of Waiting Game

Cole: I’m only joking about that but I like her. She’s sweet.

Gray: You fuckers are turning me as gray as my name.

CHAPTER 4

MIA

Fly Away From Here - Aerosmith

Chantal: So sorry about Chuck, Mia :( <3

Doesit sting that Chantal’s the only one of my old friends to reply to the news that Chuck’s passed?

Yes.

It stingsa lot.

When I quit competitions, they began fading out of my life, but here’s proof they erased themselves entirely—Chuck let us party at our apartment and gave us free beer though we were underage when we were on the circuit and needed a blowout.

Karma.

It keeps on kicking me in the metaphorical nuts.

I already didn’t feel like going to work tonight, but it’s not as if I have a choice.

Doesn’t make it any better that the bar’s as grody as ever when I make it back to Chuck’s at nine.

Dionne and Jarvis are at the front of house as usual. We can’t afford two bartenders but it gives me the freedom to coach. Beanpole and Larry, the short-order cooks, are in the kitchen, puttering away at our ‘specialty’ Buffalo wings which are the opposite of special.

Alongside the smattering of patrons who greet me with a warm welcome, I can’t deny it’s like coming home.

Especially when I see the grief on their faces.

Knowing that I’m not the only one in mourning comes as a massive relief. Chuck had such a huge presence that it’s difficult to believe the universe could snuff that out, but it did.

It took him away, leaving me alone… Well, alone except for the regulars.

When Garry draws me in for a hug, I let him. Ordinarily, I’d be shoving him off me because he and I have never seen eye to eye, but this time, I sink into it. He tucks me in his embrace and I allow it. I even cry because I can feel his grief making my temple damp.

“I’m so sorry, Mia.”

Someone claps me on the back—sounds like Walt—and I twist out of Garry’s arms to answer him. “Thanks, Walt. Not for…” I swallow. “Thanks for being there.”

“Of course.”

The bar currently holds around two dozen souls, but there was a circle of guys that Chuck considered his buds—Garry, Walt, Robbie, and Biff. They were at the hospital with me when Chuck took his final breaths.

The memory has me wanting to down a few shots of vodka, anything to quench the chill in my soul that feels like it’s taking over my whole being.

Chuck was…Chuck.

My uncle, sure, but my biggest cheerleader too. He had my back. Always. And I had his. No matter what.

I retreat from Walt’s hug to dive into Robbie’s then get a final one from Biff.

“You doing okay, honey?”

Dionne’s relatively new so she didn’t know my work-shy uncle that well, but she’s the mothering kind. Her eyes are gentle with sympathy as she looks at me, seemingly aware that forming words is difficult.

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