"Adversity toughens manhood, and the characteristic of the good or the great man is not that he has been exempt from the evils of life, but that he has surmounted them."

Chris Omar Vaughn

I walked into the café at Black Elk Lodge the next day. Friday.

I needed an energy drink and one of Sherry's famous breakfast sandwiches. It was just turkey sausage and eggs on jelly toast, but made it with love.

"Good morning, Chris," some elders said to me as I walked by their booths.

"Sup," I talked, walking fast to grab a seat at the counter, "sup everybody? Morning."

I tapped my knuckles on the counter and didn't bother looking over the menu since I knew what I wanted.

When I waited long enough to be helped, I jumped behind the counter.

As I popped two slices of bread in the counter, some lady walked up on me.

"You better have a good reason for being back here," she snarked.

Before I could say anything, I noticed something familiar already. The eyes, the lips, the wavy hair.

I hung my head. "You're Morgan's sister?"

She looked surprised I knew that.

"How do you know Morgan?"

"Just like her, answering a question with a question. No, I don't know her."

"Sounds like you."

"I don't," I said, raiding the refrigerator for some grape jelly.

"What, do you work here, too, or something?" She asked.

I read her name tag. "No, Callie, I don't."

"Well I suggest you find a seat on the other side of the bar," she sassed. I guess the neck rolling and attitude run in the family.

Sherry appeared, coming to my rescue.

"Good morning, baby," she said to me.

I waited for Callie to look dumb.

"This isn't your son, is it?" She asked the owner.

"Basically, but no. This is Chris, his parents own that b&b you're staying at," she let the new hire know.

Callie tightened her lips. "Well I guess you think you're special?"

I shook my head, frowning. "No. No, not really."

"Chris, don't give her a hard time, like the others," Sherry warned.

"What happened to the others?" Asked Callie.

"He fucked them," Alvin, Sherry's husband, answered out no where.

He patted my back and squeezed by me, making himself a sandwich.

Callie looked at me and shook her head, playfully disappointed.

"Mr.Jones," I gritted my teeth. "Always joining a conversation when no one was fucking talking to you," I mumbled.

He didn't hear me and carried on.

"He fucked them, they got obsessed, turned crazy, and stopped working unless he was here. Then all the girls in town tried to start working here, we couldn't hire them," Mr.Jones explained to Callie.

That's not all true. He's making it seem like I had sex with all their employees, it was only like three girls. And yes, they did get a little crazy, but I don't think that's anything I did, they were already not the brightest. I was younger, dumb, liked attention.
I still like attention — probably an only child thing or blame my zodiac: Virgo— I'm just not so dumb anymore. I know better now.

I let Callie finish making my sandwich and I told her I'd definitely judge her if it didn't taste like Sherry's who was loosely training her.

She slid me a plate and the sandwich looked alright.

The bread was toasted just right but that's only because I watched the toaster and yelled at her to turn it off at the perfect time. So no points for that.

It looked appealing, she didn't poison me, I think.

I took a bite and slowly chewed.

"I don't like it," I said, pushing the food out with my tongue.

"What? I did everything you said," Callie complained.

"Just doesn't taste right," I shrugged.

Sherry laughed. "I'll hook you up, baby. But Chris, I won't always be here, Callie here is going to have to learn."

I just widened my eyes at Sherry, looking scared, making her laugh more.

Callie leaned in to whisper, "You don't have an older brother, do you?"

I chuckled. "No?"

She smacked her lips, walking around the counter. "I can tell."

As she tended to other customers, I let Sherry tell me all about current news.

"Aw, man, that's so crazy," I said anything to pretend I was listening but really I was watching highlights from last night's game on the tv above her head.

The little bells chimed at the front door and it seemed like everyone turned to see who was there.

I did a double take seeing it was Arizona. And she was with the kid. It didn't help her case that they looked alike, blonde hair, big green eyes, wide smile.

As much as I wanted to bust Morgan, I kind of wished it wasn't her daughter. . .

She walked past the older men and greeted them since they were staring so hard like they never seen a girl before.

I shook my head and turned back to mind my business.

But she just had to come and sit next to me.

"The noodles were good, by the way," she talked.

"What?"

"You made me eat alone last night, not that I care, but I totally hooked the noodles up. I give myself five stars."

I had to laugh at her. "You're weird."

"You're sitting at a counter alone with chewed up food on your plate. Mommy did that for you?"

I blinked away from her and glued myself to my phone screen.

That's when I heard a laugh I'd known my whole life and felt his hands squeeze my shoulders.

"Malcolm," I said, shaking his hands off my body.

"What's up, son? Can we talk?" He inquired.

I looked around.

"Away from everyone else," smart ass," he said, leading the way to the back.

"Malcolm, are you behaving?" Asked Sherry, walking the opposite way.

"Always, Sher'," he blurted.

Once she was out of sight, he wiped away his toothy grin.

"I asked you to watch Morgan, what the hell are you doing leaving her alone in my house on day one?" He roared.

Busted.

"I sent you a text," I said.

"I don't care about a text, Chris. My question."

"Relax, Malcolm. You have cameras everywhere, If she stole something-"

"Not that point, Chris. I don't like that. I asked you to do one thing," he ranted.

"That one thing consists of eighty things. I can't wait on her hand and foot."

"After everything I've done for you, all these years of supporting you? You can't even help me out here?"

I put my hand up. "Alright, man. It won't happen again."

He sighed, resting his case. "I know it won't. I trust you."

"If it's her you don't trust, don't let her in the house?"

"I trust her. I like her a lot, I want this to work. I just need an extra set of eyes on her, so this isn't like the others," he expressed.

Against the wall, I nodded.

"Don't fuck me over again," Malcolm requested.

I cut my eyes away, not hearing him.

"Just watch her, keep her company, all I ask," he said, backing away.

I pushed off the wall and walked back to the counter to get my food from Sherry to-go.

"You're leaving?" Malcolm asked me like I wasn't supposed to.

"Yeah," I clenched my jaw. "AJ called, needs a ride to the city."

"Ah. I'll see you later?"

I looked at him blankly. With a short chuckle, I said, "Sure, yeah,"

"Here, baby," Sherry said to me, having wrapped my sandwich.

"Thanks," I said, snatching it off the counter.

"Bye, Chris," Morgan said after me. The way she says my name makes me shudder.

I didn't stop to say "bye" back.

~~~

I was sitting outside of the B&B later that day, honestly just chilling under the sun and minding my own business for once.

Suddenly, I felt someone push my feet off the bench.

I cracked one eye open, my arms folded over my chest, and saw it was Morgan's older sister.

"We meet again," she talked, looking down at me in the lawn chair. "Got a lighter?"

I patted down my pockets for one but before handing it over, I alluded to the cute little girl chasing her imagination in the grass a few feet away.

"How old is she?" I asked Callie.

Callie let her hair down and, looking over her shoulder at the kid, pulled out a cigarette.

"Who, Quinn? Three," answered Callie.

I let her use my lighter since she answered.

Quinn ran over and tugged at Callie's Black Elk Lodge uniform t-shirt.

"You're not a'pposed to smoke around me," the three-year-old said. I think she meant "supposed."

Callie flickered her eyes. "I wish Morgan would come and feed you already, something. Go play."

I definitely didn't think Callie was her mother, or anyone's talking to Quinn like that. That meant I was one step closer to confirming Morgan's the mother.

"How old is the princess?"

Callie dropped her arm over the other, tapping the ashes from the cigarette and shot me a look.

"You must mean Morgan," she said. "twenty-four."

See, it's possible the kid is hers. They look alike, Callie clearly isn't responsible for her.

"What's for dinner around here?" Callie asked me, changing topics.

"I don't know, I'm not eating it."

"You're so picky," she laughed at me as I stood to leave, taking my lighter back.

Walking along the sidewalk to get to my truck, I was stopped by a little person staring up at me.

It was only Quinn and she didn't say anything, just batted her eyelashes.

I stared back, wondering if she was going to do or say something, anything.

Awkward, I scratched my eyebrow, waiting for something to happen.

"I'm Quinn," she squeaked, her blonde pigtails bouncing when she bobbed her head.

"I'm Chris," I let her know.

My mom suddenly walked up after I had been waiting for her for a couple of hours.

She had groceries and shoved one reusable bag at my chest.

"Hey, honey," she grinned.

I took the bags, following her to the front door.

It wasn't until I stepped inside that I noticed Quinn in my shadow.

Again, I looked down at the little girl.

"Looks like you made a new friend," Mom teased.

She waltzed into the master suite and let me know that's where Callie and Quinn would be staying since Malcolm denied their stay at his place.

I didn't respect that, they're Morgan's family, I'm sure she brought them along for some good reason. That, or she's just dumb. After meeting her, I can't tell if she's that ditsy or not but she definitely has different way of thinking.

I looked around at the suite I hadn't stepped foot inside of since we redecorated before my father last left.

Honestly, good for Callie, though. I didn't know her living or financial situation but it seemed like she really needed good fortune.

Mom put her hair back with a clip and clapped her hands together, gaining my attention.

"Can you move this to the right?" She asked me.

I wondered why she was asking me to do manual labor.

She smacked her lips. "Chris, I asked you for help. Now can you help?"

In walked her husband, wearing this big smile.

"Did someone say 'help'?" He rang. Corny.

Mom lit up, signaling him over to help me move the couch.

He looked my direction. "Hey, son."

I hesitated but gave him a cordial "hey" back this time.

Carter smiled. "Alright. Lift on three?" He instructed.

I squatted down. "I better get paid for this," I coughed at my mother who was "supervising."

She just laughed and said, "No, to the left."

Carter shook his head, knowing she was about to change her mind three more times.

"On three," Carter said, with a grunt. "One, two, three!"