Chapter 14: The Kick

I held the phone out so he could read it.

He read it twice.

"How does she know about the heartbeat?" he said.

"Same way she knew about the baby. My doctor's office still has your family office down as the billing contact."

He started the engine so hard the truck jumped.

"I'll pay it. Today. I'll walk it into the county office myself."

"No."

He turned in the seat to face me.

"My company is doing this to her. My name is on that text."

"Then stop your company," I said. "Don't buy me out of it."

"That's not what I'm doing."

"It's exactly what you're doing. I raised half of that on a dock with three hundred people and a bucket of oysters."

My voice was louder than I meant it to be.

"If you pay the rest, it stops being mine. It's just one more thing a Kershaw bought."

"You're a Kershaw."

"I'm a bartender who married one."

He gripped the wheel.

"So I'm supposed to sit there and watch you lose it?"

"No. You're supposed to help me win it."

He stared at me.

Then something in his face gave.

"Okay," he said.

"Okay?"

"Okay. Your play. Tell me what you need. Anything but money."

"Hands," I said. "And a band."

"I can do hands. Clancy knows every band on the creek."

"Thursday night. Second roast. Before the Friday deadline."

"Thursday," he said.

We had three days.

Sallie took the news standing at the fryer.

"Thursday? The shrimpers can't pull another three hundred oysters out of the creek by Thursday."

"Yes, we can," said the old shrimper, from the end of the bar.

He was already on his phone.

Clancy found a band by Tuesday supper.

Four men who played at a fish camp up the river, for beer and a plate.

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