Divine Intervention
by TA Gates & Luree Vanderpool
CHAPTER ONE- EXCERPT
Continued.........
Bitchin' was my brainchild. When Daddy sold the truck stop for a zillion dollars, my brother and I got a
few bucks. The rest we had been informed would be spent by our folks in a heaven sent retirement.
I pulled into the parking lot and looked up at the red neon sign that proclaimed my territory. Bitchin'
was a far out 70's bar that most people thought the bartender Nick owned.
Nick and I have been best buds forever. When we were 15 we lost our virginity to one another in what
we considered a science project. It was pretty clinical and the only time we ever did it together.
Nick Perring was one hunk of burnin' love. Not much taller than my 5' 4", dark hair pulled in a pony
down his back. Lean, mean, tattooed and the sweetest man I’d ever known. I loved him so much, he’d
become an extension of myself.
Nick wasn’t ever at a loss for a pretty girl on his arm but in all this time, he'd never even been close to a
commitment.
Lets see, it was Wednesday night, that meant it was Country music night. Goody, I loved cowboys.
Their tight jeans led to fantasies of chaps and six shooters. Don't even get me started on what the
sound of janglin' spurs does for me.
Entering the oldies bar, the voice of Hank Williams Sr.'s, '...hot rod Ford and a two dollar bill...', reached
out to me. A row of Levi butts were lined up at the bar. It was still pretty busy to be near closing time.
Even though that was great for revenue, it meant Nick and I probably wouldn't get in a game tonight.
"Woman, what're you doing here?" Nick met me halfway over the bar for a shared smooch.
"I was hoping to rack your balls tonight, but I'll take a shot of whiskey." I parked my ass on a stool.
"Anything exciting happening?"
We clinked our shot glasses together in a private salute and threw the amber liquid down our throats.
"Nothing as exciting as your afternoon. You doing alright?" He settled smoky grey eyes on me and
managed to see straight to my soul.
"Hell yeah. I'm fine. It's anticlimactic after all that damn paperwork and getting signatures bullshit." I
would never confess how crappy the whole thing made me feel.
"So, you got number four picked out and ready to go?" He cocked a knowing brow at me.
"Screw you." I laughed. " But I did get an interesting call tonight from some dude saying he was my
dream man. Said he was gonna meet me here."
Nick and I scanned the faces of the dwindling group. Most of them were our regulars. No one seemed to
stand out in particular.
Abner and Maxine were there, of course, dressed in square dancing outfits. They were well into their
eighties. Maxine sewed their matching plaid shirts and skirts. Not a hair was out of place as Abner
swirled and twirled his Maxine to the intricate country steps. His belt buckle probably outweighed him
but kept his pressed Levi's on his nonexistent hips.
I’d watched them dance the night away every Wednesday since I opened the bar. Tonight, though, the
sight of them intensified my emptiness and fear that I’d grow old alone.
I had entered each of my marriages with my vows meaning something. With the ending of each union,
even when I knew it was the right and good thing to do, I was left hurt and scared.
“Fuckers.”
Nick looked shocked. “Who? Abner and Maxine?”
“No. Just men.” I shook my head in disappointment.
“Well its a good thing you think of me as ‘just a friend’, instead of ‘just a man‘. Saves my ass.” His voice
had the slightest edge to it.
“Let me have my pity party for the night, will ya? You know I love you above all the rest. That’s why I
never married you. I didn’t want to screw up the best thing I ever had.”
“You don’t have to marry every one you fuck, woman.”
“I don’t want to fuck any one I wouldn’t want to marry. It’s like a sickness I can’t get over.”
“Well, you know I’d like to screw your brains out. And marry you. Don’t forget that when you run out of
all the other fuckers.”
“Marry me?” My throat tightened with the sudden threat of tears. “You know I’m too afraid to lose you
to be with you. My track record sucks and I couldn’t bear not having what we share. I just can’t risk it.”
“We’re damn near 50 BJ. I’m getting tired of being alone and waiting for you. I’ve tried to respect your
warped thoughts about us for as long as I can. I... oh forget it.” He threw the bar rag in the sink. “You
clean up tonight, I’m going home.”
I was stunned.
* * * * * * * * * * *
I crawled in to bed in the pre-dawn hours, exhausted. I tried to shut my brain off, but no, that wasn’t
going to happen.
I was truly alone for the first time in my adult life. No husbands. My son, Sawyer, had just graduated
college and left home. The house was empty, my life felt empty here in the dark.
I tried to keep thoughts of Nick at bay, but the merest hint that I could lose him too, was more than I
could stand.
Why was it all so complicated?
I loved men, why couldn’t I keep one? The million dollar question. The answer was really simple. Men,
they were all full of shit.
Fuckers.
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