by Kari Chaplin
“And leave my sister and her boyfriend unlimited access to my house? No thanks.” I rolled my eyes at the thought.
“Oh, well. Your bed is better than a five-star hotel. We can make popcorn and talk about boys. I have a lot to tell you.” One thing I loved about Myra was her ability to make everything easy.
“I bet you do,” I stated under my breath, annoyed. I knew exactly which boy she wanted to talk about.
“Hey, have you seen that mysterious guy come back in?”
Here we go, I thought. “What guy?” I feigned ignorance. ”What do you want to watch tonight?”
“Don’t you dare act like you don’t know who I’m walking about.”
“I was actually hoping he left town.” That was a lie. I was secretly upset that he hadn’t been back in. I yearned for him. I needed him. I rolled my eyes at my own thoughts. The need to have him was stupid. I didn’t even know his name and had only seen him that one time. I was being obsessive and irrational.
“Oh, well, maybe he’ll come back in soon. He’s gorgeous. I wouldn’t mind gawking at him for a few hours if the handsome stranger stays for a while next time,” Myra said.
I was glad she didn’t seem to pick up on my thoughts. “Maybe he left town,” I replied. I had a feeling that wasn’t an accurate assumption because I felt his presence.
When we arrived at my house, I was relieved to see that Shannon and Jake weren’t home. Myra and I got ready for bed, washing the residue of the bar away. Then we went straight to sleep. It had been a long, exhausting day for both of us.
Eight
A girl stood alone in the middle of a field of lilacs, soaking wet. Rain poured from the ominous clouds above, but the girl didn’t seem to notice. Her face was buried in her hands as she cried. I felt her sadness as deeply as I feel my own.
Waking up with tears in my eyes, the gloom of loss was still strong in my heart. My energy was zapped. I tried to stay motionless to keep from waking up Myra. I stared at the ceiling, my mind racing from one thought to another. I wondered what she was crying over. I ran through possibilities in my mind. I mostly assumed her tears were shed over him. The idea saddened me even more.
Myra began to stir as she awoke.
“Morning, Myra,” I said.
“Good Morning,” she yawned, looking at me. Her eyebrows creased. “Did you not sleep last night?”
“Yeah, I slept, but it was a stressful dream.”
“Your eyes are puffy, and you have dark circles under them. I hate to be the one to break it to you, but you look like the living dead. Do you want to talk about it?”
I rolled my eyes. Since she was my best friend, I ignored that comment. I imagined that I looked terrible. “No, it’s fine. It was just a dream. Wanna go to the gym?” I asked.
“Ugh… Not really.”
“You can gape at all the hot boys while I work my ass off.”
“Fine, but don’t expect me to, like, run beside you or anything.” She rolled off the bed, hitting the floor with a loud thump. “Ugh,” she groaned.
“I know you are a stick, but really, it’ll do you good to get some exercise too,” I said, eyeing her.
“So, you like to remind me.” She threw a pillow at me. “Besides, we get plenty of exercise playing waitress at the bar every damn day and night. Those doubles we pull all the time must burn like five thousand calories or something.” She laughed.
I busted out a laugh. “True, but get dressed. We’re going.”
“Fine, but you owe me lunch at the greasiest place I can think of.”
I laughed. Of course, that was the deal, as always.
Nine
Sunday morning, we woke up before the sun graced us with its presence. Whether the sun had come up or not didn't matter since Stan the Weatherman forecasted a cold and rainy day. Gloomy and cold just happened to be my favorite kind of weather. There had always been something comforting about the dark gray clouds as far as the eye could see looming over our little town. I loved the roar and crackles of the thunder. As rain began to trickle down upon us, I felt heaviness lift off my chest, leaving me feeling weightless and care free. Not to say that buckets of rain didn’t get old after a while, especially if I had to get out in it, but for the most part, a gloomy forecast was my friend.
“Ugh,” Myra whined as she came from the bathroom, towel-drying her hair. “Why did you have to suggest this?” she continued whining. “I don’t want to have to get out today. It’s going to rain, and we are supposed to be on vacation.”
“Stop crying like a baby, and finish getting ready,” I advised.
As I put on my shoes, I glanced at my cell phone. “Oh! It's almost seven-thirty. Hurry up. I'm running downstairs, so hurry up.” After flying down the stairs to the living room, I gathered our purses and keys. “Come on,” I yelled up to her.
“I'm comin’, I'm comin’. Calm down.” Myra flew down the stairs. “Relax, Vessi. Joe won’t mind if we’re a couple of minutes late. After all, we are technically on vacation.”
“Since it was my suggestion, I'd rather make sure we’re on time. Anyways, we gotta pick up the donuts.”
“Hey, who do you suppose is covering our shifts? It wasn’t exactly a planned vacation.”
“No one, I’m sure. He’s probably picking up the extra slack himself,” I replied in a rushed voice to get my hurry it up point across.
After a quick stop at Andy's House of Donuts, we arrived in the parking lot with a few minutes to spare. Throughout our drive, we watched as the clouds rolled in from the horizon. The gloomy, light gray clouds moved out to make room for much darker black, flat-out alarming clouds. We’d have to hurry and get the donuts inside. Damn, was Stan the Weatherman right this time. These dark, menacing clouds were not my friend.
Amber approached my car as I leaned back in to grab the stack of donut boxes from the back seat. “Your boyfriend stopped by last night.” Her severity invaded me like a heat wave in the middle of January.
“Well, hello to you too,” I replied to her, mocking her drama.
She ignored me. “You should tell him that he’s not welcome around here.”
“What are you talking about?” I yelled over a crack of thunder.
“That freaky guy,” Amber huffed, annoyed. “Don’t act like you don’t know who I’m talking about.”
I stood to face her, holding a stack of white bakery boxes. “He's not my friend, nor is he my boyfriend. I have no idea who this guy is.”
“Not the point, bitch.”
“Besides, you heard what Joe said. Apparently, he is welcome. What did he want?” I waited impatiently for her response.
She said nothing, only angrily glaring at me through thick black eyeliner.
“Well, did he particularly ask for me? Or was he there just to have a drink?” I tapped my foot against the ground as I waited very intolerantly.
“What am I? Your boyfriend info app?” She took a drag from her cigarette and refocused her glare off into the distance.
“Well?” I asked, again.
Amber looked back at me. “I don't know, okay,” she huffed. “I can see this is going nowhere.” Amber waved her hand that held a cigarette at me dismissively and stormed off toward the front entrance to the bar. “Just tell him to stay away,” she yelled over her shoulder.
“What was that all about?” Myra asked, looking through a cloud of cigarette smoke left in Amber’s wake.
“Hell, I don’t know. I guess the mystery guy came back in last night. He seems to really make an impression.” I shook my head as we ran into the building just as the rain began to pour from the sinister black clouds that had taken over the sky.
“Okay, folks, here is what we are going to do.” As we walked in, Joe was beginning his list of instructions for the corresponding plans.
We placed the donuts on the table by the coffee and joined the group.
“Get started. We have about four hours.” Joe was hard to hear over the violent thunder outside. He g
lanced at his wrist watch. “Oh, make that three hours and thirty-five minutes to get this completed, so get started. If you need me, I’ll be in the storage room getting the rest of the decorations out.”
Things were relatively quiet for about ten minutes, which surprised me the girls held off that long.
Angelica began the complaints. She was usually the quiet one. “Seriously, Vanessa, please tell your boyfriend to not come here. He’s truly creepy.”
“Angelica, he is not my boyfriend. I don’t even know his name.” I rolled my eyes at all the glaring faces in the room. “He simply came into the bar, acted as if he knew me, and then left before I even filled his drink request. I haven’t seen him since.”
“Really?” she asked, obviously concerned with my answer. “Maybe he’s a stalker. Should we call the sheriff?”
“I don’t think that’s necessary. I haven’t seen him anywhere but here.”
Angelica’s eyes showed concern. “Maybe you just don’t see him…” she glanced nervously at the floor. “Just be careful.”
“Well, if you won’t tell him to stay out of this bar, I will. It won’t be enjoyable for him.” Amber’s attempt to sound threatening was weak. Either she was losing her touch, or I just knew her too well.
Amber was rough around the edges. Her life had been less than preferable, and she had a bad attitude to go with it. She had been shoved from state custody to one foster home after another and then back to the state. When she was fifteen, the state put her in a hospital mental because she had an attitude, and they weren’t equipped to deal with her. She had piercings all over her face. She had about ten per earlobe. Tattoos covered her body. Her wardrobe consisted of black leather everything. Of course, she was always equipped with the black leather combat boots, even when she’s forced to dress up. She smeared black eyeliner around her deep green eyes. And we couldn’t forget the stereotypical dyed-black hair, which hung just above her shoulders. The tears she fought back were obvious. She wasn’t nearly as tough as she wanted to portray.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Amber, I really don’t think you’ll come out on the winning end of that stick.” I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m just sayin’…” I added firmly to emphasize my point.
“Whatever,” she replied angrily.
“She doesn’t know this guy, so get off her back, bitches.” Myra always took up for me. Most people tend to get offended when other people fight their battles for them, but I didn’t mind. She meant well. I did the same for her.
“Whoa, ladies, is there gonna be a cat fight today?” Corey's smile of hopeful anticipation was spread clear across his face. “I love cat fights.”
“Amber, lay off. All of you lay off. Ves really has no idea what you guys are talking about. If I hear another word about it, I’ll make sure to move super slowly when I’m fillin’ your future orders.” Brad’s warning was full of promise.
Amber blew a breath of air from her mouth, making an audible groan of irritation. “Just pass on the message, will ya?” She roughly turned away from me and hurried back to Sam, her project partner.
I didn't even bother wasting enough precious air to respond. Sam gave me an apologetic look before turning back to his work. Sam was one of the three bouncers. He towered over me at an astonishing six feet, five inches. He was blessed with well-defined muscles, like a bodybuilder. He had deep golden, short hair with bright hazel eyes.
After the decorations were complete, we had an enormous Angel with hollow eyes hovering over the service area of the bar. Her wings were gorgeous dark gray with swirls of white. They reminded me of a storm cloud.
A demon, possessing seductive, black eyes, was ready to collect the entry fee. The demon’s light grey wings were torn and brittle.
The table centers showcased the apocalypse. There were a variety of crumbled buildings with flickering lights inside, which made the buildings look as if they were really on fire. Each table had a different ruin, but as a whole, they completed the apocalyptic scene. Gray and black spray-painted spider webs provided the dust and debris from the explosions. Of course, it just wouldn’t be Halloween or a post-war world without bloody body parts everywhere. Yep, bloody body parts were strategically placed around the business, including the restrooms.
Our special just happened to be the flaming Dr. Pepper. Joe really wanted to set the place on fire, I guess. I hated Halloween.
“Hey, thanks for coming in. Everything looks really great. Check your mailboxes for bonuses before you leave.” Joe looked around smiling pleasantly. “Myra and Vanessa, thanks for coming in to help. I don’t want to see either of you until your vacation is completely over. Vanessa, I’m serious. We can get along without you for a few more days.” He said before turning back to admiring the decorations.
This time of year really pleased Joe, because his bar was crazy popular all throughout the holiday season, especially New Year’s Eve. Tourists came from all over the globe to visit the two museums in town. Of course, they found it necessary to stop at the bar during their visit. They loved to come see the theme year after year. As far back as I could remember, theme choices had never been repeated.
The museum owners, Michael and Matthew Roday, provided most of the decorations for the town, including our bar, to ensure their theme was promoted throughout the entire town all season long.
The rest of the year, Michael and Matthew put on several big shows. The shows happened in the museums, downtown, and the lake. Little mini-battles took place at the different small businesses. Sometimes, events spontaneously broke out all over town simultaneously. I found it scary and unnecessary. I guess people loved all the spectacles because they came back every year and brought friends. The twins really kept the town alive, which had seen more holy wars than the world had seen… period. Somehow, no matter which side won, nothing was ever resolved.
Ten
Myra and I returned to work to find the new bar back, Corey, had already quit and had been replaced. Myra was disappointed on the one hand, but hopeful this guy would be even more gorgeous. I could care less about the new or previous bar backs. My mind was still too cluttered with other more important issues. The decorations were a frightening distraction from time to time. My endeavor to avoid running into body parts or demonic angels was a full-time job.
“How’d your time off treat you, Ves,” Brad asked as he handed me a serving tray.
“Good. It was nice to have some time off with Myra. We shopped a lot. And by a lot, I mean a lot. I somehow managed to drag her to the gym a few times.”
He laughed. “Sounds nice. Hope I’m invited next time,” he teased. “Well, you look much better than when I saw you last. Now, go make me some money. Daddy needs a new flat screen TV,” Brad half-joked.
“I’m on it. Thanks for sticking up for me the other day.”
As the bartender, most of his money came from the waitresses paying him ten percent of our tips. If we didn’t make money, neither did he, so the threat he made to Amber would have hurt him as well.
“My pleasure. Anytime.”
I walked up to table six and low and behold, there he was again, the guy who freaked me out on his previous visit to the bar. The guy everyone was threatening me over. The guy I had dreamt about my entire life. I probably should have turned around and told Brad, but I was feeling refreshed and generous that night. I’ll see how it goes, I thought. “What can I get you on this fine evening?”
“Well, well, well, it’s Vessi. How are you? I hope I didn’t scare you the last time we met.” He had an angelic smile plastered to his sexy, scrumptious face.
Oh God, I want him, I thought to myself. At least, I hoped I hadn’t verbally expressed that statement. It was like sex oozed from his pores. His smell, his eyes, and that certain something else about him all pulled me toward him. It was a power he must have held over me. I seemed to float toward him as if my feet left the ground every time that man was around. I’d never experienced anything like it before. I shoved those t
houghts to the very back of my mind. It was extremely hard to produce any coherent thought when he was near.
“No worries,” I said. My response was so sharp that I could taste the bitterness in my voice.
“Well, good,” he replied, softly. His eyes narrowed and softened as if he wanted to say something other than the actual words coming out of his mouth, but he didn’t. Instead, he said, “I’ll have a Shiner Bock. I have to be at work in fifteen minutes. There is a big tip involved if it arrives in less than a minute.”
I rolled my eyes after I turned my back to him. Drinking right before he leaves to go to work. Real nice, I thought to myself.
His beer arrived in less than a minute as requested. “Here you go. That’ll be six dollars.” My demeanor was strictly business-like, short and to the point.
He handed me a fifty-dollar bill. “Keep the change,” he purred into my ear, causing my knees to collapse a little.
The flood of butterflies swarming through my hips forced me to stumble, almost dropping my tray of drinks. He caught the tray without allowing a single drop to be wasted and steadied me simultaneously. Embarrassed, I quickly thanked him and scurried away, not looking back.
I nervously served the drinks I had on hand and disappeared into the ladies’ room. I couldn’t face him. I was so humiliated. Thoughts flooded my head, reliving the mortifying interaction. Looking in the mirror, I noticed my face was the color of a beetroot.
“How embarrassing. How could I have been so obvious,” I murmured to myself. Luckily, I was alone so no one heard my mental anguish. I patted my face with a cool, wet towel and touched up my makeup to cool down the redness of my cheeks. I looked like a clown in the cheek areas, but luckily enough, most patrons would be so drunk they wouldn’t notice. Plus, due to the dimness of the interior lights, details on my face would be harder to notice. “I’m good,” I said back to the reflection in the mirror.
“Are you okay?” Myra asked from the threshold.