Second Chance Baby

by Natasha L. Black

  I had to admit it was a bit of a shock when he told us. We were used to him checking in every couple of days and sending care packages, but that day, the video chat took an unexpected turn. All-but-instant millionaire or not, Tom couldn’t be expected to take on the responsibility of caring for all of us and our parents on his own. The rest of the brothers still in Astoria had jobs, but nothing particularly lucrative, and definitely not flexible. We didn’t have the option of just taking off if there was an emergency or adjusting our schedules to be there when our parents needed us.

  The bar was going to give us that, Tom said. We could run it as we saw fit. That meant controlling our own schedules and bringing in a steady income without having to rely on someone else. He bought the bar, gave us enough money to get started, and we were on our way.

  And also on our own. That was the day Tom decided all this was too much for him. He couldn’t cope with the stress or bear the emotional pain that came from it all. He needed to focus on himself and his life in San Francisco. We all tried to say we understood, especially when he promised he would stay in touch and visit, but in reality, none of us did. We all thought he was being cowardly and tossing our parents aside.

  Some of that still lingered. We missed him and were mad at him at the same time. It wasn’t a comfortable state to be in.

  But neither was trying to figure out how to deal with the bar. It wasn’t like we were completely going under. Fortunately, Jesse had the foresight to suggest we didn’t just run The Hollow as a neighborhood bar. That would be a primary draw, of course, but we needed to offer something else. Our lunch service and dinner in the evenings proved popular. A once-a-month brunch gave another boost of income that helped to compensate for the dwindling crowds coming in at night. Customers coming to eat kept the place afloat and enough income flowing in. But it also left the four of us exhausted.

  As a cost-cutting measure, we kept to a minimum staff. It meant we didn’t have to pay a bunch of people and could keep more of the profits for ourselves. It also meant we were running ourselves into the ground. That was the message on our brother Matt’s face when he came into the bar and let out a deep sigh before dropping down onto the barstool beside me.

  “Has it been like this all night?” he asked.

  “Pretty much,” I confirmed. “Dinner was pretty good tonight, though.”

  “So, does that mean I can leave?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “Don’t even think about it. It’s just us on staff tonight. We have to handle the kitchen, the bar, the front of the house, and management. We need all hands on deck even if it doesn’t get busy.”

  Matt let out another sigh and sagged against the stool. If it wasn’t so frustrating, the dramatic response would be funny.

  “We need to hire a bartender,” Jesse said. “We’re overworked as it is, and if we can get this place busy again, we’re not going to be able to handle it totally on our own.”

  “We’re never going to get it busy again if it’s just us,” Tyler said. “All of us are scrambling just to handle the basic stuff around here. We can’t do anything to bring in more crowds.”

  I nodded in agreement. “Having a dedicated bartender certainly would help things. I’ve been looking over the books the last few days, and it seems like we have just enough cash to do it.”

  “Then let’s do it,” Jesse said. “The longer we wait, the more nights like this we’re going to have.”

  The door opened and a small group walked in. I nodded toward them. “Jesse, you take care of them. Do we still have anything left from dinner service?”

  “Some,” he said. “But I can make it work if they want any of it. And the bar menu is available.”

  “Perfect. Tyler, hop behind the bar. Be ready for drink orders.”

  I made my way into the office at the back of the space and woke my computer screen up. The idea of adding a bartender had been floating around for a couple weeks now. After the last conversation I had with Jesse about the possibility, I put together a draft of a job advertisement. Now I pulled it up and went over it. When it was polished and ready, I went to a local job site to post it.

  As I was putting up the post, the door to the office opened and Matt came in. He had the same sagging look on his face and leaned back against the wall.

  “What’s wrong with you?” I asked.

  “I have no social life,” he said. “I see the three of you more than I see anyone else. Do you know when my last date was?”

  “No,” I said.

  “Neither do I. That’s the problem.”

  “It will be fine. We’ll get someone soon, and then all of us can relax a little. I’m sure plenty of people are looking for a job,” I said.

  “But will they want to work here?”

  “Sure they will. Locals know the value of this place. And there are new people showing up all the time.”

  There was a brief pause, and I noticed Matt shifting around. “I think I saw Ava earlier.”

  The statement hit me like a punch in the gut. “What do you mean think you saw Ava?”

  “At the post office. I went to mail the care package to Afghanistan for Jordan, and she was there,” Matt said.

  “Are you sure it was her?” I asked.

  “I mean, I’m not one hundred percent positive. I didn’t talk to her or anything. But it looked exactly like her. She was pulling out as I was pulling in, so we were right there next to each other.” He hesitated again. “Have you talked to her recently?”

  I shook my head. “Not since before she left.”

  The conversation dropped, and Matt walked out of the office. I finished posting the job, and just as I was getting ready to walk out of the office, my phone rang. I immediately recognized the number. It was Jordan. He didn’t get to call often, so I snatched it up. We chatted for a few minutes, and I did what I always did, trying to stay as perky and positive as I could for him. I figured no matter what we were going through here, it was nothing compared to what he was dealing with over there. He didn’t need the added stress of worrying about us.

  “It’s mostly quiet,” he said. “Not a lot going on recently. Which is a good thing. But it’s hot. And stressful.”

  “I’m sure. But, hey, you get out soon!”

  Jordan gave a short laugh. “Yes, I do. And I can’t wait to be home.”

  “We can’t wait to have you home.”

  I was glad to hear from my brother. We didn’t hear from him nearly as much as we would like to. There was always that lingering feeling of worry and fear about him. Even when he wasn’t in active combat and nothing serious had happened around his area, we worried. Service was extremely important to him, and he was devoted to it, but we all couldn’t wait for him to finally get out and come home.

  As if talking about adding extra help had somehow summoned more customers, the bar picked up as the night went on. It got a little busier than average, which was good. But it still wasn’t the crowds we were hoping for. The busy phase of the bar was short-lived when we very first opened, and now we were trying to find ways to get back to that point. It would mean more work, but that would be worth it. Besides, the busier we were, the more money we were bringing in, and the bigger staff we could hire. It would all work out.

  “Any responses to that job posting yet?” Matt asked a few hours into the shift as he carried a bus bucket full of dirty dishes and glasses into the kitchen.

  I laughed. “Not yet. Are you already complaining about actually having business?”

  “Just keeping up with the news.”

  “If we can get up to these crowds and bigger, we’ll definitely need the help,” Tyler said from the grill. “I wish Tom would come back and help.”

  I let out a sigh and nodded. “Maybe he will one day.”

  3

  Ava

  Unpacking boxes and organizing the apartment was exhausting. Adding in the bottle of wine and giggling with Stephanie keeping us up until the early hours of the morning meant I
slept far later than I usually did. Most of the time I was the kind of person who didn’t need an alarm to wake up. I set it anyway, just to make sure, but every morning was the same. At least twenty minutes before the alarm went off, my eyes popped open and I was ready for the day.

  Not so much that first full day back in Astoria. Whether it was just the tiredness of moving and having Stephanie over, or a sense of relaxation that came from being home, I slept like a rock. I hadn’t set the alarm to wake me up because I didn’t have any specific time I needed to be out of the house. But it was still the sound of my phone that woke me out of the deep sleep. Reaching over to where I’d left the phone sitting on its charger on the bedside table, I looked at the screen.

  “Hey, Mom,” I said.

  “Are you still asleep, honey?” she asked.

  I pulled myself up to sit and leaned against the headboard. “Yeah. I must have been more wiped out than I thought.”

  “Well, you did drive for almost four days. I would think that would get to you. I was calling to see if you’re still coming for lunch.”

  “What time is it?” I asked.

  “Almost twelve thirty.”

  “Oh, wow. Yeah. I’m sorry I’m late. Give me just a bit and I’ll be there.”

  “No rush. I gave your father his medicine a little while ago, so he’s resting. See you soon,” she said.

  We got off the phone, and I swung my legs over the side of the bed. Rather than hitting the floor, my feet landed on something soft. It let out a muffled grunt, and I realized I’d tried to stand up on Stephanie. Pulling my feet back, I looked down and saw her curled up under a blanket.

  “Morning,” she mumbled.

  “Actually, it’s afternoon,” I told her.

  The blanket snapped back from her head, and she looked at me with wide, frantic eyes. “What?”

  “It’s almost twelve thirty.”

  She scrambled to get up. “Oh, shit. I’m going to be late.”

  “So, I guess that’s a no to coming over to my parents’ house for lunch?” I asked.

  Stephanie dug through her duffel bag and pulled out clothes. “I’d really like to, but I can’t. I have a meeting with some clients this afternoon.”

  She bounced around the room getting into her clothes, and I did my best not to laugh at her. Finally dressed, she swept her thick blonde hair back into a ponytail, looked at her makeup in the mirror like she was contemplating fixing it up, then shook her head.

  “I’ll tell them you said hi. They’re going to want you to come over soon,” I said.

  “Definitely. I’ll give you a call later.”

  She kissed me on my cheek and ran out of the apartment. I gave myself a second to laugh at her. Stephanie may have a severe case of FOMO, but she also tended to be right on the edge of spinning out of control a good portion of the time. The two combined to create a person that was nothing if not totally unpredictable. I missed her so much in Michigan. Being able to be with her more than once every couple of months was a definite plus to coming home.

  I got up and took a fast shower before getting dressed. By the time I got to my parents’ house, Mom had already fixed a massive lunch and had it sitting out on the kitchen table. The dining room was just a few steps away, pristine as always. For the vast majority of the year, it sat there like it didn’t exist. It was attached to the kitchen, separated only by a swinging door, but no one acknowledged it. The table was clean and empty except for a lacy runner. The china cabinet in the corner held a massive collection of formal dishes and crystal, sleeping away on the shelves. No one went in there except for twice a month when Mom went in to dust and polish the furniture.

  But then November came, and it was the dining room’s time to shine. Everything lit up with an explosion of color and activity. The fancy dishes came out, and fall-themed decor filled the corners and studded the runner, all in preparation for Thanksgiving. As soon as that weekend was over, everything shifted to Christmas with greenery and tall candles. Come December twenty-sixth, it was all cleaned up and quiet once more.

  To me, that was the ultimate sign of being an adult. You weren’t really all the way grown up until you had a dining room you didn’t use for most of the year.

  Mom hugged me tightly, then went into the living room where they had set up a hospital bed for my father. With both legs broken and recuperating after surgery, he was bedbound. The bed setup in the living room meant he could still be involved with what was going on in the house. It also meant Mom could have the entire bed in the master bedroom to herself. But I knew her well enough to know she slept curled up on the couch every night. Nothing would convince her to be away from my father if she had any other option. I made a mental note to look into finding her a fold-out couch so at least she could be more comfortable.

  Dad was still asleep, so I kissed him on the head and went back into the kitchen to eat with Mom. We talked and laughed for a while, just catching up on everything. Even though we talked almost every day when I was in Michigan, it was amazing how much we actually missed out of each other’s lives. Everything was going well until a pile of mail caught my attention out of the corner of my eye.

  I reached over and picked it up. The entire stack was bills, and several of them had warnings about being overdue.

  “Mom?” I asked. “What’s going on with this?”

  She looked over at me it from the kitchen sink where she was already doing dishes and shook her head. “Oh, it’s nothing.”

  “Nothing? This definitely looks like something.”

  “We’re just behind on some of our bills. We’ll get it figured out,” she said.

  “How are you going to get it figured out?”

  “I don’t know yet. But we’ll figure out something. We always do.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about any of this?” I asked, looking through the bills and becoming more shocked and unnerved the more I saw.

  Mom let out a sigh and dried her hands on a kitchen towel before turning around to look at me. “I was ashamed to tell you. You’re off in Michigan doing amazing things, and I didn’t want to have to admit to you that your father and I had gotten behind.”

  “How did this happen?” I asked.

  “His health insurance only paid but so much. Since he owns the business, there is no workman’s compensation. We had medical bills we had to deal with, and the loss of his income caught up to us. We thought we would be able to handle it with savings, but everything got more expensive than we expected it to. Especially after the surgery and that infection. He’s still battling that, but the doctors say if he just keeps taking his medication, he will get through it, too,” she said.

  She was trying to distract me, to detour the conversation away from the matter at hand. But I wasn’t going to let her.

  “Let me help.”

  “You are,” she said. “You came all the way out here to help take care of him.”

  “That’s not what I mean. Let me help you pay these bills.”

  “No, Ava. That’s not necessary. You already left your entire life to come back here. We can’t ask you to help us like that, too.”

  “You didn’t ask,” I said. “I know you never would. That’s why I’m offering. Let me do this for you. My job pays really well, and I was able to build up a really good savings. I have the money to help you out.”

  “You can’t give up your savings, Ava. That’s for your future,” Mom said.

  “And you are my present,” I said. “Besides, I’m young enough to save up again. What’s the point of having savings if I can’t help my parents? You gave up everything for me. You worked hard and made sure I had a wonderful life growing up. I want to be able to do the same thing for you.”

  “Thank you, honey. Really, it means so much to me that you would offer. And I know how much it would mean to your father, too. But we just can’t accept it. It means the world to me that you came out here so that you could help me take care of him. That’s enough.”

>   I looked at her for a few seconds, then shook my head. “That’s not good enough. I’m going to help you. That’s final.”

  We ate dessert without talking about the bills any further. By the time we were finishing up, my father woke up and I was able to go into the living room and spend some time with him. Despite his pain and constant stream of medication in his system, he was in good spirits. We had fun talking, then did a few rounds of our favorite card game. When he started to feel tired again, I kissed them goodbye and headed home.

  As soon as I got back to the apartment, I sat down to think about the situation. What I told my mother about my savings was true. I made good money in Michigan and put away most of it. Despite my larger apartment, my cost of living really wasn’t very high. I didn’t go out and party or even spend a tremendous amount of time socializing. I spent time with my friends, but we rarely did anything expensive. Saving up for a rainy day was something my father had instilled in me from the time I was very young. That’s what I had been doing since I got my job, and now I was so happy I did.

  If ever there was a rainy day, this was it.

  But I had to be realistic. My savings was only going to go so far. I could pay up their bills for them and give them a bit of a cushion for a little while. But none of us knew how long Dad’s recovery would actually take. My mother’s job brought in a small income, but she would likely need my help so she didn’t get behind again. If I was going to be able to help them and also support myself, having a job was the only way to sustain the arrangement. It would make sure I had enough money for both responsibilities for as long as it was needed.

  The local job site wasn’t overflowing with opportunities. Especially considering I couldn’t commit to a long-term arrangement or an extended stretch of training before the position began. I needed something I could start fast and would start bringing in money pretty much immediately. The first one that caught my eye was for a bar downtown looking for a bartender. I was way overqualified, but it was better than nothing and I could start earning right away. This was about helping my parents, not getting a glamorous new career.