Chapter 10

"You've gotta' phone call, boss."

Bobby pulled his head out the Ford Explorer's engine compartment with a grunt, and looked down at his greasy hands.

"Can you take a message?" he asked hopefully, while knowing it must be important for Jesse to have interrupted him.

It had been three months since they had hired Jesse McMartin to take over day-to-day management of the garage; four months since Raul's death. An experienced mechanic from a local dealership, he had always wanted to run a shop and had jumped at the chance.

"It's your sister," Jesse replied, with a look that said not to bother asking him to screen Sammy's call.

"I'll take it in the office."

As he hustled to wash up, he looked around the shop with satisfaction - every bay had a car in it, waiting for service. He closed the office door to shut out the shop noise.

"Hey, Sammy." A moment later, he jerked the phone away from his ear.

"Bobby, what are you doing down there again," she scolded.

"And how are you this fine Saturday, sister-dear?" he replied mildly.

"I'm annoyed with my stupid brother, that's how I am. The shop will be fine without you spending all your time there - you should be getting ready to play baseball, not playing with cars."

He didn't immediately reply, looking around the office. He'd insisted on keeping it exactly as Raul had left it, and he always felt close to his late step-father when he was there. The framed first dollar the shop had made hung prominently on the wall.

"I have to make sure this place is all right," he said softly.

"I know how you feel," Sammy said carefully. "But the last time I was there, Jesse seemed to have a pretty good handle on things."

"Raul worked so hard to build it up from nothing. This is more important than baseball."

"Are you saying I don't care about my father?" she snapped. "Did you love him more than I did?"

"What? No. Of course not!"

Sammy sighed. "Building up the garage was important in my dad's life. But his family and friends were big parts of his life too."

"I suppose so."

"You know so. He wouldn't want to see you giving up everything for his dream and not following your own."

His shoulders drooped slightly. "Okay, Sammy, okay. Let me finish up a few things and I'll come home."

"Good! Then maybe you can give a beautiful blonde I know a call. I'm sure she'd love to hear from you."

There was a long silence. "Bobby – are you still there?"

"I called Collette last night."

"Oh! Good!"

"Yeah. But she's already got a date tonight."

She had a visceral urge to offer to go out with him instead. But she already had a date, too.

"Alright, well get out of there and come home anyway."

"Okay. I love you, Sammy," he blurted impulsively.

She smiled into the phone. She had a sudden inspiration. "Love you too – bro. I need to make another call; talk to you later."

Sammy sensed Barbara coming up behind her. She ignored her and picked up the phone again, quickly dialing a number.

"Hello?" Blythe answered.

"Hey, it's me."

"Hi!"

"You want to come over later?"

There was a pause. "I thought you were going out with Freddy?"

"I am. Barb's going out on a date too."

Another pause. "I see."

"Come on, Blythe. Dare to be great. Tell Bobby you were just dropping by to see me, and take it from there."

"But what about - you know."

"Collette told him to date other people – like she already is. I think he's just about ready to listen."

"But what about – you? I know how you feel about him, and I don't want to..."

"Don't worry about it." She hung up abruptly and turned to face her stepmother.

"Is Bobby coming home soon?" Barbara asked.

Sammy frowned. "Yes – you'll have your babysitter."

Barb frowned in turn. "That's not what I was worried about."

Her lip curled disdainfully. "Yeah, but you're going out on a date with Pete, right?"

"I'm not dating Pete or anyone else, Sammy. I don't know when I will be able to do that again. This is just dinner with a friend. And can you check the attitude, young lady? I don't like this Freddy boy you're seeing, but I let you make your own choices."

"Right ... like you could do anything about it."

"Sammy!"

"Oh calm down. I did what you asked. Bobby's coming home."

They heard a motorcycle pull into the driveway. Sammy grabbed her coat and headed for the door.

"I thought we agreed you wouldn't be riding on that motorcycle."

"He couldn't get the car tonight. We're not going far."

Barbara was torn. Should she put her foot down and say she couldn't go? But what if she went out the door anyway, as she feared she might? They stared at each other in a silent battle of wills.

"Does Bobby know you're riding on a motorcycle?" she challenged the teen.

"He's not my mom, either."

She tried not to show how much those words hurt. "Be home by midnight," Barbara finally said through gritted teeth.

Sammy barely paused in the doorway. "Don't wait up, Barbara."

Barb twisted her hands together in frustration – she found herself counting to ten a lot these days.

But she reminded herself that on top of normal hormone driven issues, Sammy had lost her mother as a young girl, and her father just months before. Now she was living with her stepmother and the stepbrother she used to date, and her little half sister.

It was more than any young woman should have to deal with as she came of age. There were bound to be some bumps in the road ahead for her stepdaughter - and for those around her.

But Barbara remembered her promise to Raul - to take care of her, no matter how difficult Sammy made it to do.

Later that evening Bobby answered the doorbell, and found Pete Riordan on their front porch. He was wearing a nice sport-coat and khaki pants. Cloddy steel-toed shoes often favored by cops marred the near-formal look.

Pete stuck his hand out and shook Bobby's in a firm, manly fashion. Compared to Bobby's hands, calloused from working on cars and sparring with Sammy now that Raul was gone. Pete's hands were soft.

"Hey Bobby, how've you been?"

"Good, Pete, good." He didn't know what else to say, and Pete seemed to understand. Akin to soldiers avoiding talking about combat when away from the field, there was no desire for conversation that might revisit the tragic night in the garage.

"So ... is your mom around?" Pete asked politely.

"Yeah, I'm sure she'll be down in a minute."

Pete nodded curtly. Was Barb playing the teenage game of making her man wait before honoring him with her presence?

Gina made herself heard from the playpen set up in the adjoining recreation room, and Pete followed Bobby, watching him scoop up his half-sister, cuddling her lovingly to his broad chest. The little girl held eye contact with Bobby in a way that showed complete trust and affection.

Pete eyed the child, feigning interest. "So you'll be home on baby duty tonight?"

"Yup - she's no 'duty, ' though."

"She'll probably go to bed pretty soon anyway, right?"

"Yeah."

"Can I see her?" Pete said impulsively. Maybe he'd make points with Barbara if he was holding the kid when she arrived. He held out his hands, but Gina squirmed away from him.

"That's okay," said Bobby, masking his surprise. Gina was usually open to meeting new people, but wanted no part of Pete's outstretched hands. There was an awkward silence.

"Did you know children's fear of strangers usually first appears when they begin to crawl effectively, or walk?"

"Hmm, is that so?" Pete tried not to sound bored.

"Yeah, it's a useful instinct. It makes them want to stay close to their familiar loved ones when they first have the ability to stray away from them. It makes them seem a little less lovable at first meetings, but it helps keep them safe."

"Okay, Doctor Bobby, are you about done lecturing the poor man?" asked Barbara, breezing into the room.

Pete gave her a quick sweep with his eyes. She wore a simple yellow one piece summer dress with short sleeves, and a squared-off fairly high neck-line. The hem fell just below the knee, over flat sandals.

"Hi, Barb," he said, pumping his voice full of enthusiasm to mask his disappointment at her less than alluring attire.

"Hey. Ready to go?"

"You bet."

"Call me if you need me, sweetie," she said, while hugging her son. Thinking of Sammy's phone call she'd overheard, she added softly in his ear: "And it's okay to have someone over, you know."

"Thanks, Mom."

"Alright, love." She gave Gina and Bobby a kiss. "I'll see you guys later."

Pete suppressed annoyance - she should have said, 'don't wait up.'

The door closed and Bobby could hear the sound of their voices fade away down the front walk.

"So what will it be, 'The Cat in the Hat' or 'Green Eggs and Ham?" he asked his little sister. Gina gurgled and smiled at him. "The Cat in the Hat' it is."

Down the block, a Lincoln town car sat idling. As Pete's car pulled away, Al Skelly checked his watch and glanced at the man in the shadows of the back seat.

The daughter was already out for the night, and she rarely came back from her dates before one in the morning. Pete would call when he was certain he could keep Barbara out of the way. They settled in to wait.

Al sighed. With Pete subtly encouraging his rage against the Taylor kid at every opportunity, the boss gave the order to tie-off this 'loose end' from the garage hit.

It didn't make any sense to him, but sometimes soldiers had to follow orders no matter how pointless. Why Pete had such a hard-on for the kid was a mystery to him.

The war with the rival gang was giving their family all it could handle, and he'd had to hire a contract hitter for this assignment. The man in back spoke up.

"Hey," he called softly. "Get a load of this."

Al eyed the teenager approaching the house. "Wow."

"Should I go ahead anyway? I might even give you a discount."

"You're a sick bastard, you know that?" Al said sourly.

"Suit yourself; I get paid for the night anyway."

The doorbell rang again. When he opened the door this time, Bobby found Blythe Fisk standing on the porch, twisting her hands self-consciously. She was wearing short-shorts and a tank-top that showed off more of her big chest than he was used to seeing.

When he stared speechless, she grinned with satisfaction. "It's just me."

"Well hi there! I'm sorry – Sammy's not home."

"Yeah, she told me. But she said you were just hanging out with Gina, and I don't have anything going on – mind if I hang out too?"

"Sure, no problem; I was just about to head to the kitchen to warm up some milk for her, before she goes down for the night."

"Cool."

She took a seat at the kitchen table as he began running water in the sink to get it hot. Soon Gina was drinking from the bottle while nestled in her big brother's arms.

They chatted about their classes and studies. After finishing her meal and yielding a healthy burp, Bobby put Gina in her playpen in front of the couch. The teens sat to watch her fingering her stuffed animals and eyeing the mobile of toy airplanes circling over her head. Her eyes were already drooping.

"Is your mom out on a date?" Blythe asked.

"She said it's not a date, although I'm pretty sure this is the first time Mom's been out with him, I mean just the two of them." He shrugged. "I actually thought the guy would be dating Ms. Goodwin - he's come here with her, before ... well, a long time ago."

"Is she dating at all yet?"

"Not yet."

She sensed some discomfort. "You don't like him?"

"He's all right I guess." It was either say a little or say a lot about Pete Riordan's role in his life at different times. Telling her about Pete shooting at him on the edge of a cliff could wait for another day.

While his dinner date for the evening (and he certainly thought of it as a date) was visiting the lady's room, Pete thought about his two women. For that was how he thought of Barbara and Sandy – they belonged to him. Whether they knew it or not was just a matter of time and effort.

He'd gone after Sandy first, a couple months after the killings. It had started well, with him getting back into her tight little ass after their first date.

But it turned out to be a one-time 'gratitude fuck.' Though he'd asked her out repeatedly since, she politely refused. Her explanation was she needed more time to get over Ron's death, but Pete suspected the little tart was cheating on him. She'd developed a habit of having lunch with one of her fellow teachers, and he was beginning to think he was going to have to run the guy off to return her attention to where it belonged.

In the meantime he'd decided it was time to insinuate himself back into Barbara Ramirez's life. As far as she knew, he had risked his own life trying to save her husband and son – how could she not go out with him? And besides, she had to be horny as hell being a widow, and married to a vegetable for a while before that.

Barbara had politely agreed to going out to dinner. Now he was fantasizing about getting back into her sweet pussy. He remembered being engulfed by her clutching heat on the lawn of her back yard, and her blowing his nuts and his mind by pressing a wine-cooler against his balls as he came.