Bar 49

by T. A. Hardenbrook

  I spend the next hour or so catching up with my uncle, while older 90’s music blasts in the background. We manage to skirt our conversation around the death of my mother and my ongoing sobriety. However, that leaves us with very little to talk about, giving plenty of awkward silent moments. Faking a yawn, I glance at my phone and pretend to be shocked that it was a little after midnight. My uncle just laughs and shakes his head. He knows I am lying; after all, he was my mother’s twin. Telling him I will see him in the morning, I gave him a slight wave and walk out to my car.

  ***

  I really have no plans as to what direction my life will be taking. Leaving the town I grew up in did not erase the pain; I merely packed that along with my few belongings and hauled it with me. Starting over in a new town is almost a cop out on dealing with life. Sure, running away seems easy, but things always have a habit of following you wherever one might go. Like the counselors said during my stay in rehab “running away from your fears will only further push you back from accomplishing your dreams.” Making a clean break for the bay is not exactly running from the past, more of letting the past tag along and trying to blend the negativity of my history with the hope for my future. Staying idle too long can only lead to failure. This is my opportunity to make amends with my inner demons, tackle the obstacles that are bringing me down, and starting to live the life my mother always wanted for me.

  ***

  The smell of bacon tickles my nose as I stretch my body from under the old soft sheets. I have no clue what time I finally crashed last night, but vaguely remember hearing my uncle come banging through the small house sometime before the light began to shine through the small bedroom window. Tossing the covers back, I wiggle my tired body out of bed and shuffle my way over to a small suitcase I drug in with me last night. Rummaging through the massive amount of clothes I managed to cram in it, I pull out a pair of running shorts and a simple black long sleeve shirt. Slipping my feet into the flip flips by the bed, I secure my hair into a low ponytail and venture out for the kitchen.

  “Something smells absolutely delicious,” I mumble, inhaling the wonderful smell of bacon and grease. My stomach growls at the delightful aroma filling the small space. I have never been huge on breakfast, but whatever my uncle is cooking has me all sorts of giddy for filling up a plate and digging in.

  “I thought you were going to sleep the morning away.” Myy uncle chuckles while sliding some eggs into a serving bowl.

  “What time is it?” I crank my head around the room, looking for a clock. My jaw about hits the floor as my eyes catch a glimpse of the digital read out. “Ten-thirty?”

  “Hungry?” Uncle Mark slides a full plate over in my direction, and takes the seat directly across from me. My mouth salivates as I watch the steam roll off the freshly cooked eggs. Grabbing my fork, I shove a large bite into my awaiting mouth, groaning as the flavor hits my eager taste buds.

  “So what are your plans for the day?”

  Forcing the massive bite down, I wipe my mouth with a paper napkin and clear my airway. “Just some more unpacking, and maybe start looking for a job.” I shrug my shoulders and quickly stuff a crisp piece of bacon in my mouth. The grease is absolutely heavenly, causing my greedy stomach to beg for more.

  “If it does not mess with your sobriety, you can always come work with me at the bar,” Uncle Mark offers.

  I have a pretty firm grasp on what I expect from my sobriety. Sure, I don’t think I could ever not want the substance, but I now know the damage it causes in my life. At the same time it’s like giving a drug addict a key to a pharmacy; one could only hope the person would not be tempted by their demons.

  “Thanks for the offer, Uncle Mark, but I’m going to try and see what else is out there.” If all else fails, I know the bar would always be an option. Finding employment elsewhere before subjecting myself to my failures seems like the right path to take.

  My uncle nods his head while continuing to finish his plate of food. Suddenly, the amazing meal that sits before me no longer looks appealing. I watch as the steam gradually fades as I push the eggs around the edges of the plate.

  “Are you done?”

  Shaking my head to clear the dark thoughts invading my mind, I offer a small smile. “Sorry. I’ve got it. You cooked, so at least let me clean up.” Standing up quickly, I grab the plate from his hand and walk over to the sink.

  “We have the end of the month inventory going on at the bar, so I will probably be late tonight,” Uncle Mark states while scribbling down a phone number on a scrap piece of paper. “Here is the number to the bar. Call if you need anything.”

  “Thanks,” I babble, digging under the sink for the dish soap. A quiet afternoon of unpacking and settling into this new town is exactly what I need. Once I have all that accomplished, the next task will be finding myself a job. All I have to do is follow the steps counseling taught me on how to succeed. Gaining employment will make me feel empowered and have purpose when living my life. Hopefully, this moving on with my life crap will help ease the pain of actually dealing with my current situation. Alone, lonely, and forever broken.

  Plugging the drain, I squirt the soap into the cold metal basin and watch as the warm water rises. Tossing the breakfast dishes into the sink, I sigh while watching them sink to the bottom. Such a visual representation of my ongoing struggle with the daily tasks in my life. Catching my bottom lip between my teeth, I bite down hard to try and distract my mind from the ugliness that is taking up residence. There are two options that I can see logically working. I can continue to wash these dishes, sulk at the shitty cards life has dealt me, or I can try and suck it up. The first option sounds great given my crappy mood, but the whole point of me leaving home is to get on with my life. Once again, I have been handed another chance and this time I need to make the most of it.

  Chapter 4

  Greyson

  Charlie’s image was tearing through my mind. I tried everything once I got back to the house; drawing, working out, watching porn, and even turning the damn cable box on. Nothing could ease the visions replaying our interaction over, and over again. She is like my old favorite CD, skipping on my very favorite part of the song. Why this woman is invading every thought process I can mutter through this morning is going to drive me fucking crazy.

  Women are not something that I normally keep around. Sure, that makes me sound like a complete dick, but when I have no desire to settle down, why would I want to see them again? The shop and my career are the only important things in my life; so why is that little dark hair beauty making me desire something else?

  Sitting up in bed, I run my hands harshly over my face. Today is going to be one of those days where I need a bottle of Jack to make it through the morning alone. Letting out a deep breath, I force myself over to the closet to grab some clothes. I need to find something to occupy my mind before heading into the bar this afternoon. Throwing on some shorts and a t-shirt, I quickly hit the head for my morning routine. Heading down to the beach is the perfect distraction for women with tiny features and bright blue eyes. Seeing all the new freshman wander down the sandy beaches in their little bikinis should be just the trick at shaking Charlie from my damn mind.

  Living in the Bar is every single man’s fantasy. We have a gorgeous beach, plenty of college hotties in rotation, and enough attractions to keep even the wickedest of mindset occupied. Of course we are no Vegas, but if you really want to see some titties on a strip pole, Razor’s Edge bar at the edge of town has wet t-shirt nights almost weekly. You are guaranteed to see some boozed up chick getting naked and dancing on their perfectly placed poles in the place.

  I kicked off my flip flops and sunk my feet deeper into the warm sand. Shrieks of laughter came from either side of me, as the school semester has yet to start. Tons of women wander up and down the shoreline; and each year the fabric covering their assets keeps getting smaller and smaller. Not that it bothers a man like myself, since the woman’s body was something to be
worshiped and not covered by sweatshirts and sweatpants. God, I love the warm weather in this town.

  The waves crashing on the shoreline has captured my attention, giving my mind a break of a certain someone when I happen to look down at the docks. “Fuck me,” I growl, dropping my head to sulk. Sitting there with her legs dangling effortlessly over the old wooden dock is Charlie. The sunshine dances on her pale skin, bouncing the light around her dark hair. She looks so sad with her body hunched over and her head hanging low. It is a vast comparison to the sassy girl I met last night at the bar. Silently cursing at myself, I begin to wage an inner battle between staying put and heading over there. A few hundred yards away is the woman who has been plaguing my mind since meeting her last night. Getting up and talking to her seems like a logical choice. But, then again, that plan is fucking stupid. Pushing myself up off the sand, I wipe my palms on the sides of my shorts and reach down for my shoes. For some unknown reason, my feet are already carrying me over in her direction before another thought could be ushered through my once again foggy brain.

  Charlie continues to stare at the water, skimming her feet on the top. She looks so delicate sitting there on the old worn dock. Her jean shorts rest high on her toned thighs, and the solid white shirt fits snug across her small curves. Her look is simple, but stunning; and I can’t seem to keep myself away.

  “So, how long are you in town for?” I ask, letting my flip flops hit the deck, making a loud thump. Lowering myself down next to her, Charlie has yet to acknowledge my presence. “Charlie?”

  “Huh? Oh, sorry,” she comments as her eyes are still fixated on the water rolling over her feet.

  “Wow, did I not make a good enough impression on you last night? I normally don’t have to work this hard to get females to talk to me.” Chuckling, I plunge my legs into the cool ocean water.

  “I remember who you are, Greyson,” Charlie states, placing her hand above her eyes to block out the morning’s bright rays.

  “I was starting to think you didn’t like me.”

  “I really don’t have an opinion of you yet.” She shrugs, dropping her hand and restoring her gaze back to the water. Shock takes hold of me as I let out a little snort. This is the first time I have ever got a blow off line like that. Most men could take the hint. I, however, am not most men.

  “Are you always this nice?”

  “Yep.”

  I have no clue on what direction to take this conversation next. Truthfully, I never really needed to talk with women; a couple quick lines and I have them exactly where I need. This interaction with Charlie is starting to become painful. “So, you never answered my question.”

  “That is because I don’t know the answer yet.” Would it kill this girl to speak more than a few sentences?

  “Alright. Well then, what do you know?” Pulling my cell from my pocket, I quickly glance at the time.

  “If you have somewhere to be…….” Her voice trails off.

  “Just work for your uncle in an hour.”

  “How long have you worked for him?”

  “Shit. I started stocking the bar back when I was eighteen. I normally pick up a few shifts here and there, or when he needs the help, like last night.” Charlie quickly glances up at me and offers a weak smile. There is something special when that girl lets go. Her crystal blue eyes still sparkle, but the pain hiding behind them is obvious for even a blind man to see.

  “I don’t know how long I’m staying, just need a fresh start.” Charlie begins to pick at a worn spot on the dock, chipping away at the wood with her slender fingers.

  “Fresh starts are good,” I mumble.

  “Yeah,” she says softly, raising her chin a little higher and looking out into the bay. There is something about her; I just can’t figure it out. I can tell she is hurting inside, and for some unknown reason, I want to be the one to make it better.

  The sand was starting to dry out where high tide came in this morning, leaving little bits of the ocean nestled amongst the gritty sand. For living a crazy life, being out here sitting next to Charlie made it seem a little calmer. How can one person, so sheltered and meek, cause such an uprising in my already destined world in a mere twenty-four hours?

  “Nice talk, Charlie, but I’ve got to head to work,” I ramble, glancing over in her direction one more time before pushing myself up off the deck. Charlie simply nods her head and continues to gaze out into the ocean. “You’re going to let me in, Charlie; just thought you should know that.” I waited for a response, and shook my head when nothing came from her. Sliding my shoes back on my feet, I head down the dock with a smile on my face. I am always up for a challenge, and this might be the best one yet. It will only be a matter of time before she opens up to me. Not many people can resist my charisma and charm.

  The weekend lunch crowd is finishing their plates as I slide behind the bar to stash my stuff. Working for Bar 49 is a pretty chill place; no uniforms, hot waitress, and no one cares that I keep a glass of whiskey filled below the bar. Not to mention, I only work when needed, thus eliminating the have to work mentality of having a second job.

  “Hey, Greyson,” Jessica calls out down the bar. I flash the woman a half smile before disappearing around the corner for Mark’s office. I know he wants to do inventory tonight, and as sucky as counting bottles behind the bar is, a monotonous task is exactly what my mind needs right now. Seconds after leaving the beach, my mind has been working overtime, trying to figure out a way into that head of Charlie’s . I have never had a conquest that sparks my attention as much as that girl has, but I refuse to be a failure.

  I rap on the door frame before flopping myself down in one of the office chairs. “Hey, Mark.”

  “Greyson,” Mark exclaims, briefly looking up from the paperwork on his desk.

  “I want to ask you about Charlie.”

  Mark pulls off his glasses while letting out a long sigh. Setting the paperwork neatly back on his desk, a frown appears as he leans back into the tall black leather chair. “Don’t go there, Greyson.”

  Holding my hands up in surrender, I smirk at the judgmental comment. “Hey, I mean nothing by it. I just ran into her at the beach this morning, and well, she wasn’t the same girl you introduced me to last night.”

  “She’s had a rough life, Greyson. Just please, don’t make it any rougher for her.” Mark’s voice wavers, the sincerity of his comment evident in his eyes. There is definitely something that the both of them are not willing to talk about. Sadly, that just sparks my curiosity even more.

  “I’m not trying to sleep with her, Mark; I just want to see her smile again.” I shrug. Truth be told, I know somewhere in the back of my mind I want to get her into my bed, but that would only come if I could break through that shell of hers. Obviously, her uncle is not going to be any help at the task at hand.

  “Greyson, I have known you since you were a baby. I know exactly the games you play, and how often you switch out players. Charlie isn’t going to be one of those girls.” Mark leans forward on the desk, giving me a hard stare that says he means business.

  “Alright, old man.” I chuckle, shaking my head slightly. If I had listened to all the fathers that told me to stay away from their daughters, my numbers would be drastically different then what they are today.

  “You better clock on,” Mark says as he picks up the stack of papers once again. “And I’m serious about staying away from Charlie.”

  Challenge accepted.

  The crowd has yet to let up for the night, as the college age idiots continue to drink themselves into oblivion. Saturday nights are normally pretty packed, but I had totally forgotten that school was starting on Monday. For the eighty-or-so patrons crammed out on the dance floor, tonight was their last hoorah until next weekend. Looking up at the clock, I smile when the time reads out a little after one. In roughly fifteen minutes or so, I get to cut the music and holler last call, instantly sending the place into a feeding frenzy for one last shot.

 
“You make good money tonight?” Jessica asks, wandering down to my side of the long bar.

  “I really have no clue.” Laughing slightly, I begin to wipe down the counter for the billionth time tonight. Two blondes make their way up to my side; and conveniently rest their large fake tits on the bar. Darting my eyes between the two, the ends of my lips turn upward into a wicked smile.

  “What can I get you ladies?”

  “How about you when this place closes?” the taller blonde slurs. You can tell by just looking at her, that this woman has had more than a few drinks tonight, but was still able to stand upright and not topple over.

  “Sorry ladies, I have to do inventory tonight,” I say with a hint of sadness, slowly licking my lips to further their desire.

  “We can wait,” the other suggests, squeezing her tits together while crossing her arms underneath her.

  Of all the nights I get propositioned by two chicks, it has to be the night I have promised Mark I would do inventory with him. I got no ass last night because of Charlie, and tonight her uncle was putting the cock block on me.

  “Sorry girls; another night.” The blondes whine and pout their red stained lips. Of course they are not going to make this easy. My dick stood at attention the moment they suggested our little escapade. Now, I am going to be counting liquor bottles with a raging hard on. By the time I get out of here, all the hot women will be either passed out or in bed with another someone. For a second night in a row, my ass was waking up alone.

  I readjust myself and silently curse Mark’s name. First his damn niece shows up and gets tangled up in my thoughts for the last two days, and now I’m going through this check list with a hard case of blue balls happening in my pants. When I agreed to help the man, I figured I would have gotten a little something last night, but now it has been two days without getting boozed up or my dick sucked.