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He chose one of the quieter bars. One he hadn’t been in the past few months. He had spotted the kid when he walked in politely fending off another interested party. Tim had got himself a beer, sat at the bar not too far away and then when the pool table had freed up offered him a game. It was an easy way for the kid to decline without anyone making a big deal out of anything but he was happy to play pool, one game, then another. Tim got the distinct impression that he was allowed to win the second having made the mistake of thinking he was going be the one with the advantage on the angles.
“I got lucky I guess.” The kid shrugged but with a lop-sided grin. Up to then Tim hadn’t been sure of what he was after.
Gabriel, the kid was called Gabriel, was funny and kinda shy. Wanted to pay his own way, a little bit drunk but not enough to be loud or tip over into obvious. Tim wasn’t getting planning drunk enough to go for a pick-up tonight. He was good looking, but not groomed like a lot of the guys who hung out on in this bar on a Friday night, jeans, flannel shirt over a t-shirt, some band Tim had never heard of.
Friday night, winding down after a week working to Vasquez’s plan of cross-checking all the paper trails they did have on Crowder, he’d been glad to get out of the office. Rachel had checked in with him about her Saturday night. Neither could see why her occupying Art’s chair should change how they got on. She was always hopeful but never intrusive. Yeah, maybe, we’ll see he’d said. They had tried combining dates once before and Tim had let himself proved wrong, Rachel’s date seemingly unfazed that there were three men and her. He hoped she was still seeing that one, Lance? Lonz? He had several good points, one of which was he wasn’t a LEO or a lawyer. Or any other sort of asshole beginning with L as far as Tim could tell.
So now here he was, sitting in a booth, Gabriel chatting about plans he had to college finally, now he felt old enough to concentrate on studies. How old do you need to be for that asked Tim Twenty five it turned out and Tim reckoned that was OK, six year’s difference although Gabriel looked younger. He had had to explain to Tim what graphic illustration was and Tim took pleasure in the way the kid’s face lit up talking about the why and the how of what he wanted to study. He took construction jobs to save up. Grunt work on a construction site, Tim thought, that would teach you to look out for yourself. Clearly not some needy kid who couldn’t handle himself.
His phone buzzed. Tim was fifty-fifty on leaving it but didn’t want to miss out if it was Rachel with work. He looked at the text, longer than he needed to read it.
“You gotta go?” said Gabriel.
“Nope. Just gotta reply to this.”
The kid waited while Tim hesitated and then tapped out a two letter reply. “Do you want another drink here?” He had blue eyes, not brown, which Tim thought to be a very good thing.
They had one more beer and then Gabriel knew a diner which did pretty good burgers but wouldn’t dent his pay packet, wanting to split the bill again. It was, thought Tim, nice to just talk to a regular guy without all the sparring.
“Do you want to do this again? Go for drinks maybe next week, or –“ he left it open, maybe he had just been at a loose end tonight.
His invitation earned him a bright smile. “Yeah sure, that would be great, I mean I wasn’t sure if, you know-“ Gabriel trailed off.
Tim raised his eyebrow in a question. The lack of confidence was refreshing.
“You know, if you were just looking for-“ Gabriel pulled a face, looked a bit embarrassed.
“You do this much? Meet people in bars.”
“ ‘Meet’.” Gabriel took the piss out of him with air quotes. “No. I-“ then stopped talking, looked like he was working out whether to carry on.
“I didn’t need to, for a couple of years, I was with someone but-“ again a pause. ”It’s been a while. My last - um - boyfriend, he was at UK but got a good job offer in Sacramento when he graduated and well, he asked me to go, but it made me think, you know, was the relationship worth moving for? A good guy, don’t get me wrong, but .. anyway one room-mate is out of town, the one I usually hang with, and a couple of girlfriends thought it were time for me to get out and you know. I go to bars with the guys from work, end of a shift, but that’s never gonna pan out like this...” He snorted with laughter and then “I’m talking too much, aren’t I? What about you, you ‘meet’ people in bars a lot?”
Tim got out his business card and pushed it across. “Do you want to put your number on there?” He said, reaching across the bar to swipe a pen from beside the register.
“I can put it straight in your contacts.”
“OK.” Tim handed him his phone but meanwhile Gabriel was studying the card.
“A marshal? Is that like a cop?”
“Sorta.” Tim kept his face neutral. Sometimes the card got handed back with a thanks man, but no thanks. He liked to be up front.
“Cool,” and Gabriel pocketed the card, punched his number into Tim’s cell, sending himself a text.
Tim drained his beer. “Do you need a ride somewhere? I’m calling a cab.”
“No. I mean, I walked down town,” he added hurriedly. “In case you think, you know, I’ve had too much to drive.”
“I’m not that sort of cop.”
“OK.”
“OK. Next week then?”
“OK.”
Tim stepped out of the cab, looked around for a familiar car parked outside his apartment block. It was there.
He could have asked for the spare key back, saved himself the hassle of the interaction that was about to end his evening, but that he figured that would be making too much of a deal. He at least was trying to be a grown up about this.
He pushed open his front door. The living room was in darkness but a light was spilling down the short hallway and he could hear noises from the bathroom, the faucet running, teeth being brushed. He flicked on the light and saw the coat over an armchair. The hat would be somewhere.
He went into the kitchen to fetch himself a beer. Last one, he promised himself.
“Hey,” said a voice behind him as he stood at the open fridge.
“Howdy.” Tim turned round with an exaggerated spin, voice too loud for the space.
Raylan was standing there, towel round his waist, bare feet. Tim turned back to the fridge and made a good job of pretending to look in, picking up a packet of cheese and putting it back as though he had made an important decision not to eat cheese.
“The High Note’s booked out with some end of semester party. Didn’t want to get called down to sort out some kids socking each other with pool cues. I need to sleep. This OK?”
“Yeah.” No. It wasn’t really because Tim’s head was jangling between his simple, straightforward evening and Raylan who was anything but simple, certainly not a soon-to-be college kid, and wearing nothing but a bath towel for fucks sake.
“Drink?” Bourbon, he thought, is what is really required here.
“Yeah, OK.”
“Glass in the cupboard. “ Not minded to wait on Raylan and then reminded himself that he was supposed to be going for civil, even if Raylan had invited himself over on a Friday night.
“You eaten?”
“Picked up a pizza on the way here. “ Tim couldn’t see any evidence of a meal.
“The box is in the recycling. I did the dishes. “
“Wow. Considerate Ray. I must put a gold star on your chart.”
“I gotta chart now?”
“Oh yeah, it’s got several goals. The day I learn to file my paperwork, the day I learn to mind my manners to my co-workers, still a way to go on the week I got to work every day on time. Where were you anyway today slash the rest of the week?”
“Mexico, Texas.”
“Mexico?”
“Well that was day before. Yesterday -” Raylan twirled the bourbon in his glass slowly, index finger sticking out, to indicate a passage of time he couldn’t be bothered to explain, or more likely thought best Tim didn’t know.
“Rachel know?”
“Sure. I checked in with her before I came here.” And Tim was pretty sure what Rachel knew was just enough to sign off on the trip but that was apparently all Tim was going to get on Mexico, Texas and where the fuck else Raylan had been since Monday. It was why he had sent a terse OK to Raylan’s Is it OK if I crash at yours text from earlier. He had been too curious about where Raylan had been all week to say no, which had been his gut reaction for self-preservation.
“You sure it’s OK I’m here?”
“Honestly –“ Tim had been going to say honestly its fine but then realised that was far from being honest and what was the point anyway, he had to work out some new way of being with him, working with him as long as it took to get Crowder. And the last thing he wanted Raylan to see was that he could still get under his skin.
“You’re here so this-“ he pointed to the coach “and helping yourself to –“ this time the fridge was the beneficiary of an expansive hand gesture “– if an army buddy dropped by they’d get that so –“ both hands splayed out this time. Why did Rayan bring out his latent semaphoring tendencies?
“Then I’m just gonna-“ Raylan pointed to the bathroom and walked off saying “You had a good evening?”
“Sure”. His Friday night wasn’t in the show stopping league of Mexico,Texas but anyway he wasn’t about to share it with Raylan, who came back from the bathroom in t-shirt and shorts.
“Did you want to watch something before you go to bed? I can read or something.”
Tim had no idea what Raylan would find to do in a small one bedroom apartment if they were avoiding said bedroom so he simply walked over to the couch and started pulling it out to make the bed.
“S’OK, I got junior rangers in the morning. I need to get some sleep.”
He looked up to realise Raylan was staring at him quizzically.
“You got what now? Jesus how young are they recruiting them?”
“It’s nature hiking, fire building that sort of thing dumbass. Kinda like scouting but for kids whose parents are fucked up or just sadly chaotic. It’s free. For them. It takes up my Saturdays, so-”
He stopped then. Raylan would be all too aware why he might need his Saturday’s taken up since, well – you could hardly call it a break up because that would imply a functioning relationship in the first place. Since he had told Raylan to fuck off down to Florida, be a man, look out for his kid. And got thoroughly ignored.
“So I’ll be up and out early.” He finished lamely.
“I’m gonna to Harlan anyway tomorrow, need to sort out stuff at Arl- at the house. Told Rachel we could use it as a base.”
“Un-uh.”
“OK, well I bought breakfast. Seemed only fair.”
“Thanks, I guess.”
Raylan seemed minded to carry on making conversation. “Rachel said you were leading on getting the paperwork in order. Finding the gaps. Said you had nearly finished, done a good-“
“Yeah. So you need to use the bathroom again?” Tim badly needed not to be in a room with Raylan in it. He didn’t begrudge Raylan looking to save the dollars on a motel, wanting to do the right thing for his child even while he stubbornly refused to be with her. Just wished he could go and save those dollars somewhere else.
“Nah, I’m good. Thanks for-”
“OK then.”
“OK? So, night, I guess.”
“Night.”
Teeth done, undressed, hunting for his headphones so there was absolutely no chance of hearing Raylan snore through the bedroom door, pillows punched just the way he liked them Tim was just getting into his bed when Raylan shouted out from the living room.
“Hey Gutterson, do I get another star, for breakfast, on my chart?”
He paused a beat. “I’ll check in with the other grown-ups. See what they think.”
He punched his pillow hard again and then pulled up the covers, phone resting on his chest. Lay there listening to the barely there clues of Raylan the other side of the wall, thinking that a few weeks ago he would have lasted hey maybe five, OK two minutes before he was unwrapping that towel from Raylan’s waist.
His phone buzzed, vibrating against his breast bone, an incoming text.
Googled Marshals. Next time u get to win at pool.
Don’t believe everything u read. Not all TLJ.
: D. So thanks 4 nice evening. Night. G.
Thanks. You too.
He pulled on the headphones, chose from his audio booklist, then pushed both hands firmly under his pillow, and concentrated on getting his breathing steady. He hard could it be, to manage Raylan and his random demands on his non-work life?
Chapter one, Lassiter, a sharp clip-clop of iron-shod hoofs deadened and died away, and clouds of yellow dust drifted from under the cottonwoods out over the sage …