Hidebound

Chapter SeventyNine

Its been three days since Wyonna passed and I haven't seen Harley since she left the hospice.

I run from one end of Darby's to the other, restocking the alcohol and cleaning tables. My feet hurt and my mind is a mess. Sarah had helped the previous two days but today is her day off and I'm running the bar alone.

Harley has been unable to come into work so I have picked up her shifts and I'm happy to do so until she's ready to come back but until then, I'll put up with the sore feet and achy hands; after all she had filled in for my shift more times than I can count.

Besides, Darby's is the only place that feels normal at the moment.

At home I feel like I'm walking on eggshells as Hex runs on autopilot. His eyes are empty of emotion and his words are limited but he's still functioning.

The day after Wyonna had passed he had left for work before I had even woken up. It was a shock and I hadn't expected him to go. I thought he would have needed a few days to get his head in the right space before being around people again but he had left early and he had come home late; so late that I was about to go to the mechanic shop and drag him home. Clyde even texted me concerned and wondering why Hex is suddenly acting so cold. I didn't tell him what had happened; that's not for me to do but I reassured him it wasn't anything he had done.

"Miss!" My head shoots up as I wipe the table down, a queue of people had lined up at the bar for drinks while I was busy. I wipe the sweat from my brow and quickly make my way over there.

"Sorry" I apologise and begin to make drinks.

Harley had texted me a few times wondering about Hex's opinion on funreal plans but when I had asked him he had left the room without answering and made it clear that he doesn't want anything to do with it. I feel bad for Harley having to do it all herself; at least Wyonna had planned her funeral, I guess that makes it easier.

"Enjoy" I murmur as I pass the drink to the paying customer and start on the next. My head feels fuzzy and I can't concentrate. I'm concerned about Hex and how he's dealing with his grief. I'm just waiting for him to explode at any moment.

My mind briefly crosses to therapy but I push it aside quickly; he won't go.

"Hey darlin'" I look up at the familiar voice and a strained smile stretches across my face at the sight of Kevin.

"Hi Kevin, how are you?" I ask as I mix a drink and sweep a strand of hair out of my face.

His speech isn't slurred and he doesn't smell like alcohol. I hope he doesn't make me make him an alcoholic drink but I ask anyway.

"Can I get you anything?"

He runs his hand over his balding head and rubs the back of it.

"I've been alright, sweetheart" he breathes like he's stressed and his eyes quickly zip to the racks of alcohol behind me. I shift awkwardly. "N-no, I'm just going to sit over there. Gonna give his whole sober thing another go."

He turns his back and walks towards a spare table before I can answer and I don't take offence to it, I know its hard for him to be here, I don't know why he does it to himself but I don't question it. Maybe his only friends are the drinking buddies he had made.

I know Stevie's here because he had been in and out of his office multiple times all morning. He would stand in the doorway and watch as I work and then disappear again; he's done it about five times already and my irritation is growing each time but I've got bigger problems at the moment.

The bar empties as everyone gets served their drinks and I take the time to clear another table.

I spend the next three hours going back and forth across the bar and when lunch rolls around I beg silently for Stevie to come out and help me, even if he is annoying. He's not helping at all by controlling the camera's that watch see the entire time.