“I don’t think I’ll be packing my lunch to the bar much, but this is pretty awesome. Thank you.”
“It isn’t really about bringing your lunch to work,” Stephanie said. “It’s about what it represents. A new beginning. Like a fresh school year.”
“A temporary new beginning,” I reminded her. “I don’t know how long I’m going to be in town. My parents will probably need me for a while, but when that’s done, I’ll go back to my life in Michigan.”
“What about you saying maybe you would find something that would keep you here?” she asked.
“It was just a thought, an abstract idea.”
“Then I’ll just keep hoping for the abstract,” she said.
We sat down to eat, and before I knew it, it was time to head to the bar. I had no idea what to expect, but like it or not, this was my new reality. I could either dig my heels in and resist it as much as possible just to make a stand. Or I could lean into it and hope for the best.
When I got to The Hollow, Mason was standing behind the bar. He looked up when I came in and offered a tight smile.
“Welcome,” he said. “Let me give you the tour.”
“Oh,” I said. “I figured Tyler would be the one in charge of getting me used to the place. Since he was the one who called to offer me the interview and everything.”
“He won’t be in until a little while later,” Mason said. “I’ll give you the lay of the land and get started showing you how things are done. All of us will kind of help you along the way. This is going to be more of a learn-as-you-go shuffle training. I hope that’s okay with you.”
“It’s fine,” I said with a shrug. “I might as well jump in with both feet.”
Mason walked out from around the bar and showed me around. When he had given me the full tour, he brought me back behind the bar to start introducing me to mixing drinks.
“So, one thing we have going for us is we keep the best liquor stocked at all times. A lot of the clientele drinks beer, and we have a good selection on draft and in bottles as well. The big reason we were looking for something like a bartender is the time it takes to handle mixing drinks on busier nights. We have to also handle filling orders for the tables, food, and everything else, and it can get pretty backed up and out of control.”
“So, essentially, you were looking for someone to stay behind the bar, mix drinks, and fill beer,” I said.
Mason nodded. “Yes. Pretty much. Let’s start with the basics. A screwdriver,” he said.
“Orange juice and vodka.”
“Good. How about an old-fashioned?”
“Bitters, sugar, and whiskey. Citrus twist,” I said.
He rattled off a few more cocktails, and I filled in with how to make them. He had asked me to start mixing them when a couple of the other brothers came in. Matt watched me with admiration as I pulled together a blue motorcycle.
“I’m impressed,” he said.
“So am I,” Mason agreed. “You told me you didn’t have any experience bartending.”
“No,” I said. “I don’t have any experience working at a bar. Which I don’t,” I said, finishing off another cocktail and sending it down the bar to Matt. “But I went to a lot of parties while I was getting my graduate degree. I’m not a big drinker, so I usually ended up playing bartender. It’s not like I have an encyclopedic knowledge of all mixed drinks, but I can hold my own pretty well.”
They seemed happy to hear that. But Tyler had a cautious look on his face. “Be prepared for some of the guys who come in here to be obnoxious. They might try to order things that don’t exist just to fluster you.”
“Can I make them up?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Can I make up drinks? If somebody orders something I’ve never heard of and I can’t find a recipe for it anywhere, can I just make something up and give it to them? They really wouldn’t be able to say anything about it because they’d have to admit they were being an ass,” I said.
As soon as it was out of my mouth, I thought I probably shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t the most professional wording. But they guys started laughing and I relaxed. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad. At least, the work element of it.
It wasn’t long before customers started coming in, and I did just what I said I was going to. I jumped right in with both feet. Mason stayed close to help me get used to everything. It was nice of him, and there were several times when he saved me from confusion and major mistakes.
But it wasn’t easy. Being near him brought up so much for me, even more than I expected it to. Everything came rushing back with every glance, every word he said. I could remember all the good times we had together and the incredible love I’d felt for him. He’d been my entire world, the only future I ever saw. I remembered the way he made me feel and the dreams I carried in my heart and mind.
I also remembered something else I’d carried. A tiny bit of a future where we would be a family. Sooner than we expected and not in the way we’d thought, but a family, nonetheless. Only, Mason didn’t see the hope. He only saw the fear. It didn’t matter to him that I was scared, too. When I came to him to tell him I was pregnant, his reaction cut me to the bone. I wanted him to comfort and reassure me.
I didn’t know how connected I already was to that baby and how protective I already felt until that moment. And even more when it was gone.
Losing the baby was the final blow. It was what pushed me over the edge, so I made the decision to leave for Michigan. I tried not to think about it. It was too much. But now I couldn’t avoid it. Being near Mason again brought it all back. Everything from the bliss of our first kisses to the excruciating pain of the miscarriage. It was a little overwhelming, and I wasn’t sure how I was going to make it through the night.
But then, like a pink Barbie lunchbox on the first day of school, Stephanie came in to give me my confidence again. She brought along a group of friends she introduced me to, and they started ordering drinks. It was a chance to show off and to rake in a few extra tips. As one of her friends ordered a third cocktail paid for by another hopeful man, I tried to tell Stephanie they didn’t need to keep tossing money on the bar for me.
“We’re seeding,” she whispered.
“You’re what?” I asked.
“Seeding. That’s what we call it. We buy drinks, give you tips, and show what a fabulous time we’re having. Then everybody else follows suit. There were professionals who used to do it in the gold rush towns.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell her those professionals drank colored water and got paid for a lot more than shilling drinks to build up sales for the saloons.
“Well, thank you. I think it’s getting noticed by the guys.”
Things got busier as the night went on. Whether it was Stephanie’s seeding or just dumb luck, customers were streaming in and drinks were constantly flowing. I barely felt like I had taken a breath in a couple of hours when Matt and Tyler both leaned over the bar toward me.
“You’re the best thing that has happened to this bar so far,” Tyler told me. “I don’t know what you’re doing but keep it up.”
“I don’t think I’m doing much of anything,” I said.
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Matt said. “We haven’t seen these many customers in a long time.”
It stayed busy for the rest of the night, and by the time Mason locked the door behind the last customer, I was exhausted but happy. It was a really good night, and I felt like I had done well. The boys seemed to think so, too. By the time I got back to the bar after visiting the restroom, they had a row of shots lined up waiting for us.
“In celebration of your first night,” Jesse said. “I know you said you’re not much of a drinker, but a celebratory shot is customary.”
Picking up one of the glasses, I held it up. “Not a big drinker doesn’t mean not one at all.”
The guys cheered and we took the shots together. I was feeling a little less on ed
ge and had managed to push aside the feelings that threatened to take over. Our celebration was brief. We had to start cleaning up, but at least now there was no pounding music or customers making it impossible to talk without screaming.
“How’s Jordan?” I asked as I wiped up behind the bar.
“He’s serving in Afghanistan,” Tyler said.
“Oh, wow.”
“He’s getting out soon and will be coming home to join us,” Matt added quickly.
We kept talking as we cleaned up, and one by one the brothers left. In the end, it was just Mason and me. I followed him out through the back door, and he walked me to my car.
“Thank you again for taking the position. You did a great job tonight,” he said.
“Thanks,” I said.
Something else tingled on the tip of my tongue, like there were words there waiting to be said. I only wondered how long they had been waiting. Being near him was seriously doing something to both my mind and my body. And I didn’t know if I liked it or not.
8
Mason
For all the arguments I could have logically made against having her work at the bar, Ava did seem to be a good-luck charm for us. It wasn’t everything we wanted yet, but we’d had much better days at the bar since she started working there. So good, in fact, we were able to do something we never did. We closed up and took a day off.
It felt extraordinarily luxurious to know I didn’t have to go into the bar that day. I hadn’t taken a full day off since Tom bought The Hollow. Not that I had worked a full shift every single day, but there wasn’t a day when I wasn’t up there for at least a few hours. More often than not, I got there early and stayed late, taking hours so my brothers could have more time away. It was worth it to keep us on the path to making something out of the bar. But it was exhausting.
Having a full day ahead of me felt like I was getting away with something. There was that little hint of a thrill that came from doing something out of the norm.
I slept later than I had in months and woke up only when my phone rang. After searching around under my pillow and on top of my nightstand with my eyes closed, trying to maintain some grip on sleep, I realized I couldn’t find the phone. It just kept ringing, pausing for a couple of seconds after going to voicemail, then picking up again. That made me nervous. Repeat phone calls usually weren’t a good thing.
It forced me to open my eyes and try to figure out what I did with the phone. It was loud enough for me to know it was in the room with me. I just couldn’t place where. Reluctantly throwing the blankets off myself, I got out of bed and searched around. Eventually I realized I’d never taken the phone out of my pocket the night before and ended up tossing it into my hamper along with my jeans. I fished it out and answered.
“Hello? Mom? Is everything okay?” I asked.
“Is that how you answer the phone these days?” Mom asked.
I let out a gust of breath as I dropped down to sit on the edge of the bed and rubbed my eyes with my fingers. It made little spots of light and color dance against my eyelids and then in front of me when I opened my eyes again, but it helped to cut through some of the sleepiness.
“I was still sleeping,” I said. “And my phone rang so many times I thought something was wrong. Are you okay? Is Dad okay?”
“Everybody’s fine,” she said. “I didn’t realize you would still be sleeping at this time of day.”
“I’m trying to catch up,” I explained. “It’s been a long time since I’ve just gotten the chance to sleep in. We kept the bar closed today.”
“I know, that’s why I’m calling. Since you all have the day off, I thought it would be nice to have a family dinner,” she said.
“Sure. That sounds like fun. You want me to pick something up on the way over?” I asked.
“No,” she said. “The weather is gorgeous today. I’m wanting to get out and enjoy some fresh air, so I’m going to start up the grill.”
“Are you sure? I can come help you.”
“I can do it, honey. I’m feeling really good recently. And it’s good for me to do things like this,” she said.
“I know. I just worry about you. What time do you want me to come over?”
She gave me just enough time to wake myself up the rest of the way and get a shower before heading over. I was the last to arrive. By the time I walked around to the back deck, Matt, Tyler, and Jesse had taken up residence in lounge chairs and were sipping what looked like glasses of my mother’s famous watermelon lemonade.
Mom grinned at me as I climbed up onto the deck. She poured me a glass of lemonade, and I accepted it as I leaned in to kiss her cheek. The grill was already going, pumping out smoke that carried the delicious smell of beef, chicken, and charcoal. That was the smell of summers during my childhood. As soon as the weather got warm enough, Dad would venture outside with tongs and lighter in hand.
A few meals a week came from his trusty grill. Always charcoal, never gas. Even when propane grills and showing off your manhood with the size of your rig got popular, he stayed true to his charcoal. Anything he could think of ended up steeped in the distinctive smoke, from hamburgers and kabobs, to sliced peaches and mushrooms. There was also one ill-advised pizza attempt we never spoke of again.
Those were the types of memories I tried to hang on to as I watched my parents fight through cancer. The disease and the treatments had taken their toll on both of them. But every time I noticed they looked tired or the weight that had dropped from their frames, I dug myself back down into my memories. Getting them back to that point was why we were working as hard as we were.
“So, it’s nice you’re able to take a day off,” Mom said, settling onto another chair.
There was a note in her voice that made me look over at her. It was almost leading, like she was trying to say something else with those words.
“Yeah, it is,” I said. “Working every day was starting to run me ragged. But things are looking up. We’ve had a bump in business, and I’m starting to work on some plans to improve it even more.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed my brothers exchanging glances, then looked over at our mother.
“So your brothers told me Ava is working up at the bar now,” she said.
Her voice had that false casual quality people injected when wanting to sound breezy about a subject that was anything but. She swirled her straw around in her glass and looked at me with a calm, even expression. That was a kind of practiced self-control that came from raising a houseful of sons who constantly got themselves into messes.
She wanted to know more about it, particularly how I felt, but was doing everything in her power not to come across as desperately interested. Even though I knew that’s exactly what she was. Mom had always really loved Ava. Even when we were just kids, before our relationship became serious, she was wrapped up in the idea of Ava and me. Our relationship ending was hard on her, and part of me felt like she hadn’t ever moved past it.
“She is,” I said. “We hired her as a bartender, but she’s going to be helping us with business aspects as well.”
Mom looked at me with slightly raised eyebrows, waiting for more. “Oh. That’s nice. I thought I heard she was back in town. Matt actually mentioned he had seen her. I didn’t realize she moved back. Did you know she was coming?”
The hopefulness was making its way into her words, no matter how hard she tried to hold it back.
“No,” I said. “I had no idea she was coming back. There would be no reason for me to know considering up until the interview, we hadn’t spoken in years. And just so everybody is clear,” I raised my voice so everyone could hear, “she isn’t planning on staying forever. She didn’t move back. This is a temporary thing so she can help out her parents until her father gets better.”
“But she is back in town,” Mom said.
“Who is?” Dad asked, opening the sliding glass door that led into the house and stepping out.
I rolled my eyes
. This was just getting better by the second.
“Ava,” Mom said, getting up to make him a drink.
“Ava Williams?” he asked.
As if there was another Ava who would warrant a conversation.
“Yes,” Mom said. “She’s back in town and working at the bar with the boys.”
“Have you spoken to her yet, son?” Dad asked.
“She’s working at the bar, Dad. I’m the one who hired her. So, yes, I’ve spoken to her. And as I was just telling everybody else, she’s only in town for a short time. She’s here because her father got hurt and her mom needs help taking care of him.”
“That’s right,” Dad said. “I heard Wayne had a bad fall. It’s good his daughter came back to help.”
He didn’t have to say it for all of us to know he had Tom on his mind when he said that.
“So, she will be here for a while?” Mom said hopefully. “You should ask her to come over for dinner.”
“No, Mom. That’s not why she’s back here,” I said.
“You two were always so sweet together. Maybe now that she’s back in town….”
I shook my head adamantly, interrupting her train of thought. “No. No, Mom. That’s not going to happen. It’s not even something to consider. She came back here to help her parents and for no other reason. Besides, she’s an employee. And even that was a coincidence.”
“How was it a coincidence?” Dad asked.
“She was just looking for a job and happened on the listing. She didn’t know we own The Hollow, and Tyler didn’t realize it was her when he called to offer her the interview. It just happened to work out that way.”
“That’s not a coincidence. It’s everything working out the way it’s supposed to,” Mom said.
“She’s an employee,” I repeated, emphasizing each word in hopes it would end the conversation.
Instead, my mother scoffed. “That won’t stop things from happening. I was your father’s secretary.”
That was a story I didn’t need to hear again.
Second Chance Baby Page 5