Can't Go Home (Oasis Waterfall) by Angelisa Denise Stone Page B

fucking bad day already, so I welcomed the outlet for my rage and pent up anger.
    Immediately, I checked on Lanette, making sure she wasn’t hurt. Being in her early 60s, she was pretty shaken up, but relatively uninjured. The girlfriend was sobbing when the thug turned back on her. I punched him in the face, tackled him to the ground, pinned him easily, and called the cops. He was a total drugged-out loser.
    The son-of-a-bitch had a domestic violence charge already. The police cuffed him and brought him down to the station. Lanette let the girlfriend take a few minutes to calm down. Lanette gave her a piece of pie and milk, and offered her a place to stay for the night. Probably not having anything else to do or anywhere else to go, the girlfriend accepted the offer. However, some time in the middle-of-the-night, the girlfriend snuck away, bailed her boyfriend out of jail, and accepted what I’m sure where heartfelt apologies and promises to never strike her again.
    I’ve seen them around downtown from time-to-time, and I always have an overwhelming sense of anger to pummel the bastard and shake some sense into the girl. However, the bruises and marks on the girl remind me that people have to find their own sense of self-worth before they can better their own lives. You can’t force people to see what you see and do what you want them to do.
    “Dre Donley! Thank God, you’re here, Sugar,” Lanette rushes toward me, embracing me in a bear hug. “The kegs came in a day early, and I can’t get ‘em back to the cooler alone. You know these puny busboys can’t carry them.”
    “Glad to help, Lanette,” I say, smiling at her. In the past year, she’s become my confidante, a go-to person when I need a little motherly advice.
    “What’s with that shit-eating grin, Doll? You holdin’ out on me with somethin’?” she asks, eyeing me suspiciously.
    “Nah, I ‘d never hold out on my number one gal … But I did just want to make sure you had a table available for lunch today … out on the patio?” I question.
    I hate outdoor seating, but Kathryn seems to love it. I guess I can sweat my balls off to make her happy. But really, nobody should sit outside to eat in the middle of the afternoon in South Carolina.
    “Dre baby, you knows I’s always gots room for you … Wait just a second. Hold on one minute. Why you checking with me first?” she asks, putting her hands on her hips and tapping her toe.
    “I just wanted to make sure, that’s all Lanette,” I say.
    “How many people gonna be at this table, Dre?”
    “Two,” I reply
    “Rory comin’ wit ya?” she asks.
    “Nope, he’s gotta work.”
    “Spill it! You ain’t brought one person here before today. Now tell me what’s going on,” she orders.
    After Lanette hears about my month-long stalking saga of Kathryn, she’s as giddy as a schoolgirl, making plans for my lunch date. Lanette’s more excited for my date than I am. Well, maybe. She even makes one of the bussers go steal some camellias in the gardens from some of the neighboring houses, so she can put a special bouquet on the table she’s planning to reserve for us. Lanette loves flowers and greenery, but she’d never cut down any of her own.
    “Dre, I just can’t wait to meet her. I’ve been wondering about you,” she admits. “All pretty boy and never bringing any young women around. It’s good to know my instincts were right. You’s just a picky one—not a prissy one,” she says, laughing loudly.
    “Lanette! You didn’t really think I was gay, did you?” I ask, somewhat offended.
    “I hoped not, but ya never know in this day in age. Everyone always experimentin’ with something … or someone,” she says, shaking her head.
     

     
    Kathryn and I are laughing hysterically as we enter the Ariss’ Oyster Oasis, which visibly thrills Lanette. On the way over, I attempted to woo Kathryn and make her swoon, but I inevitably made myself look like a total douchebag instead. I