by Sy Walker
“Would you like me to hold him?” she eventually asked.
“No, that’s alright,” she replied and smoothed his hair back. He soothed her in an odd way, and gave her something nothing else did. Peace.
“Okay, then its best I get to sleep then. I tried before but he would not sleep without you tonight.” She rocked herself to a standing position, and using the chair as support, was able to walk off, looking more like her old self.
“Is that true Aiden?” Trisha asked as she felt a tear roll down her cheek. She quickly pushed it back and blinked rapidly to prevent the copycats from doing the same. She smiled and squeezed him into her, and when he leaned back and stared her in the eyes, his black eyes penetrating her brown ones, she couldn’t help but think she had failed him somehow. Before the thought could take root, she kissed his cheeks and quickly replaced it with memories of better days.
“Bed,” he told her and pointed to the room they shared.
“That’s right sweetie,” she said and chuckled. “Mama’s tired too.”
She placed the empty bowl into the sink and left it there. She would get it tomorrow. She placed him in his crib and stood over him, watching his eyes flutter as sleep took hold of them. She brushed his cheek as he fell into peaceful slumber, and then went to the bathroom to wash what remained of work from her spent frame. Her legs ached, and before she slipped from her jeans, she spooned the wad of tips from her pockets. She had made eighty-nine dollars tonight. Not bad, she thought. She emptied it into a jar she kept under the sink, and closed the door again.
Soon, she would be able to afford the life she wanted. Soon, she would not need to go to that God forsaken place every night. But for now, she would need to rest to do it all again tomorrow. The thought brought Johnny’s face to memory, and she shuddered at the thought. He might be there the following day. And if it wasn’t one Johnny, it would be another.
But something better had registered in her mind, and it was Calvin. He had come to her rescue after all, but maybe he was playing his hand better than the rest, and all he wanted was a quick roll in the hay. No one was nice in that bar without ulterior motive.
“Just my luck,” she whispered to herself as she turned on the pipe and the warm water spilled out and onto her body.
CHAPTER 3
Every time the door opened Trisha jumped. She was on edge from the moment she walked into the bar; half expecting to see Calvin and fully expecting another encounter with either Johnny or another of the Devils. But things were quiet. Much quieter than she had remembered it ever being, and just as she was settling into it, she saw him at the end of the bar.
Her eyes scanned the room for any sign of the rest of this cronies, but he seemed to be alone. He signaled her, and despite what she thought or felt, it was her job to attend to him.
“You drinking alone tonight?” she asked Calvin when she got to him.
He chortled and looked around. “You noticed, huh?”
“Kinda hard to miss,” she replied. He didn’t seem like trouble, and she relaxed in the knowledge he provided her.
“Yeah, after last night, I told them to take a night off; go burn some steam riding or shooting pool or something,” he told her. “Anyway, it’s just us tonight,” he said and grinned.
She gave him a half smile and leaned on the counter. “So, will it be white Russian again?”
“No, not tonight. I think I need something a bit stronger, so…serve me up some Jack Daniels.”
She was used to the gruff voices and stone faces, but he seemed different. She couldn’t get a read on him, not a full one anyway, but there was something unique about him. “So,” she said when she returned, “the head of the Devils, are you? And here you are judging my job.”
He smiled and placed the glass to his head. He gritted his teeth as the liquor coursed down his throat, and gripped the glass tightly. “I guess we are both victims of our circumstances,” he said.
“Hey, you gonna fuck him too, or you gonna give us some beer,” an angry customer shouted at her.
Trisha rolled her eyes and moved away. Once again, she could not comprehend her present circumstances. What the fuck was she doing working in a bar? Her face grew blank as she went through the motions of attending to the waiting men.
“So, you wanna…”
She moved off before she heard what the idiot who had shouted to her earlier was about to say. He did not deserve her attention.
“Fuckin’ bitch,” she heard him say when her back was turned. But she was used to it, and she simply could not be like Melissa who flirted with the lot. Melissa was the other bartender who worked on weekends and on her days off. She had seen her in action before, and how the men were all over her. She dressed provocatively too, which made Trisha feel like a Hamish woman. She looked down now at her clothing, which constituted skin hugging jeans and a loose sweater top that fell just below her waist. The shoulders were loose, which showed more skin than she would have preferred.
“How are things going?”
She looked up and saw her Uncle Ron standing there. He was unlocking the swing door to come around.
“Hey Ron,” she replied as a genuine smile lit up her features. “I’m hanging in there.”
He came over and scanned her outfit. “I swear you are going to make me lose my customers,” he said and kissed her on the cheek.
“What? What’s wrong with my clothes?” she asked and looked down.
“Nothing. It’s just…blah,” he replied.
“Would you prefer to see your niece dancing topless on the bar?” she asked cheekily.
Ron laughed and ruffled her hair. “Not at all,” he said. “But add some flair to it will you?”
“Whatever. I don’t hear anyone complaining,” she replied.
“I complain,” one of the patrons offered. “I would love to see what’s hidden under all of that. Where’d you get this bore Ron? Now Michelle…”
“Okay Dan, that’s enough,” Ron interjected. “Hey, I’ll be here for a while, so just go on ahead and deal with those customers,” he said, pointing in the direction of Calvin. “I got these.”
Trisha walked back to where the man was sitting, and apparently waiting for her to return. “Another drink?” she asked him.
“Why not?” he asked and smiled. He had grey eyes, and black hair that had silver highlights that made him appear stately. He was wearing a leather jacket as usual, and a single item of jewelry-a gold watch. She could not make out any tattoos, but she was sure they were there somewhere.
“Give me a beer,” the guy next to him said.
“Sure,” she said and moved off. When she returned she handed the men their orders.
“If it’s any consolation, I like your clothes just fine,” he said in reference to her earlier discussion with her uncle.
“Thanks,” she told him.
“So, would you allow me to take you out?” he asked.
She thought about that for about five seconds before replying. “I don’t think so,” she said. She had to move, but when she glanced back, he was gone, and in his wake, a twenty dollars’ tip again.
Somewhere inside she felt disappointed that he hadn’t persisted. But she would not be disappointed. And she was surprised that she had to will herself not to be. For the remainder of the week Calvin appeared every night, ordering the same drinks, and asking her the same question.
On one such night, she stood there and looked him straight in the eyes. “How old are you?”
“Would that make a difference?” he asked.
“It might,” she said and rocked back on her heels.
“Okay,” he replied. “I am forty-four years old.”
“That’s a clear…eighteen years older than I am.”
“What, afraid you can’t handle it?” he joked.
Trisha found his comment amusing and laughed. “It definitely isn’t that.”
“Then, how about it then? Why won’t you go out with me?” he asked and loc
ked his fingers on the counter. He was staring at her and demanding a yes from her.
“You should,” Ron walked by and whispered.
Calvin chuckled. “You should listen to him.”
“Okay, fine,” Trisha answered. “But I want to go to an actual restaurant.”
“What are you suggesting?” he asked and relaxed onto his stool again.
“Nothing,” she said and wrote her number on a napkin. She slid it over to him and he glanced at it and stashed it away inside his jacket pocket.
“Man, get the fuck outta here!” a voice shouted from the back. Closer inspection showed that once again, one of the members of his club was involved in an altercation.
“That’s my cue,” Calvin said and got up. He smiled at her and turned around. Trisha stood there and watched as he grabbed his man by the neck and flung him into the wall. “I am fuckin’ sick of your shit Danny,” he shouted. “No more breaks!” He yanked him from the table he was crouching over and pushed him to the door. The rest of the men followed.
“What the hell have I gotten myself into?” Trisha asked, and then went about her duties like a school girl. She hoped she would find an appropriate exit from Calvin’s world. Very soon.
CHAPTER 4
Trisha was in for a major surprise the following Saturday when she was due for her date with Calvin.
“Are you sure this looks fine?” she asked her mother. She was pacing the floor nervously. She had not been on a date in a long time and she was not even sure what she was in for.
“I think so,” her mother replied. “In my time it was a shame for a woman to go out with so much skin showing.”
By so much skin she meant Trisha’s bare arms that came from the sleeveless black dress she wore; it had a low cut that showed her chest, but was not cut so low that her cleavage showed; she was still self-conscious about her date being Calvin.
“Ma, this is fine, and these aren’t your days. Things have changed a lot since then,” she replied as she fluffed her shoulder length hair in the mirror. She was smoothing her dress and turning about to view her shape when her cell phone rang. “Yes?” she answered quickly.
“I’m in the entrance hall,” he told her.
“Oh. I’m coming down. Give me a second.” She hung up, exhaled sharply and kissed her mother before hurrying out.
She was expecting to see Calvin waiting for her, leaning against his motorcycle and wearing his usual leather jacket. What she didn’t expect was to see him wearing a white button down shirt with black pants. No jacket. No motorcycle. He looked nothing like a biker and she was pleased at the change in him.
“I did not see this coming,” she told him as he opened the door to his Honda sedan.
“I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve,” he told her.
He was not kidding. He took her to an elegant little restaurant that had a garden setting. They were sheltered by a thatched umbrella nestled on a grassy lawn, and surrounded by a wooden bench. It wasn’t what she had expected, especially since her top half was largely bare, but it was a nice setting.
“I recommend the barbecued ribs,” he said and smiled.
Trisha laughed. “Why am I not surprised? Barbecue ribs does go well with a leather jacket.”
Calvin laughed. “Just try and see how well it goes with a slinky black dress too. You look nice by the way. Not very often I get to see this side of you.”
“Thanks, but I try to keep it under wraps,” she said and blushed. “You don’t look so bad either.”
“Can’t say the same about the feel. I feel like a shark on land,” he said and shifted as if trying to get comfortable in his clothes.
Trisha couldn’t help sputtering over the water she had just sipped. “Oh stop,” she laughed. “You look just fine.” And she meant it. He looked very debonair, and she didn’t feel a hint of regret at allowing him to take her to dinner. She did take his advice and ordered the barbecued ribs, and she could not contain her surprise over the palatability of it. It came with baked potatoes and steamed vegetables, and she savored every bite.
“So, what do you think?” he asked her as he cleaned his bone.
“I concede; this is good,” she said and wiped her mouth. “I must come back here.”
“That can be arranged,” he said and smiled.
The rest of the evening found them laughing and talking about odd things and events. She found she liked his company more than she had anticipated she would, and when the left, he stopped by the park so they could take a stroll.
“I don’t get it,” she said as she walked next to him. He had his hand shoved into his pockets and was all but whistling as he walked.
“Get what?” he asked.
“You don’t seem at all like the man I see coming into my bar at nights.”
“Not any more than you look like the bartender I am accustomed to,” he shot back.
“True, but something you had said makes me wonder still. You said we are victims of our circumstances. How is it you ended up as leader of the Devils?”
“Inheritance,” he told her. “It was something my brother did, and my father before him. It just kind of fell into my lap when my brother ‘retired’,” he replied. “I was accustomed to the life, so the shoes fit. But sometimes I’m not so sure I want to be there, you know.”
“I think I know what you mean,” she told him. They walked together in silence around the lake, before she hinted at the time. “I think I need to get back now and relieve my mother. Aiden can be a handful sometimes.”
“That’s your son?” he asked her.
“My entire world,” she replied and smiled.
“Let’s go then,” he told her. “Wouldn’t want to shift your atmosphere.”
When they got to her building, he reached across the armrest and touched her hand. She looked down at it, and then brought her eyes to meet his. “I really enjoyed your company tonight,” he said.
“Me too,” she smiled. “You really surprised me.”
“So, can we do this again sometime?” he asked hopefully.
Trisha thought about that for a moment and then smiled. “I’d like that.”
And without another word, he leaned in, and ever so softly placed a kiss on her lips. It caught her by surprise, and she was paralyzed for a few seconds. But the kiss wasn’t a bad one, and she found herself responding before she had a chance to fully think it through. She could feel the heat rising within her at the same time her heart began to flutter. His lips glided across hers, so sweet and soft she didn’t dare open her eyes and end the moment. She was almost sorry when she felt him pull away. But then, she couldn’t hide her embarrassment at the fact that he was now aware of her vulnerability.
“I’ll see you,” he told her.
“Yeah,” she said and exited the vehicle. He waited at the curb until she was safely inside, and from the rectangular pane in the door, she waved and smiled as he drove off. The smile she had felt creeping inside her now filled her face, and she blushed as she went to her apartment.
She slept peacefully that night, and where she had dreaded going to the bar before, she was now anxious for it.
CHAPTER 5
Trisha woke up the following morning humming a tune. This did not escape her mother.
“It went well I suppose,” she said as she folded some laundry.
Aiden ran up to her and she lowered herself to scoop him up. “It did,” she blushed and tickled the playful infant. He giggled and she tossed him in the air a few times before twirling with him. “How’s my pumpkin?” she asked.
“Mama,” he giggled and the proceeded to tell her something about the kitchen. He was pointing, but she wasn’t able to make out anything he was saying.
“I think he wants his cereal,” her mother said.
“Oh. Is that what you were saying?” she asked him and buried her head between his head and his shoulder. He squealed and grabbed a handful of her hair. “Ok, you win,” she told him and tried to untangle her h
air from his grasp. “Let’s get that cereal.”
Trisha spent most of the Sunday with her son, which ended at the park two blocks from her apartment. Still, all the while she could not get her mind off of Calvin. She caught herself smiling several times, and by the time Monday night rolled around she was besides herself with anxiety.
Her eyes kept roaming the bar, but she saw no sign of him or his men. Her already sour temperament grew to enormous proportions, and by the end of the night she was livid with anger. She yanked the shirt from her body when she got home and slammed it into the laundry basket. Then she stared at herself in the mirror.
“It’s okay Trisha,” she told herself. “It was just one date. Nothing to be so sore about. He will turn up eventually.”
But telling that to herself and believing was another story. Calvin was missing for the other three days, and by the time Friday rolled around she had all but given hope that he would return. Until she saw him walking towards her. She froze in her task of wiping the glasses, and then turned away.
“Double shot of whisky,” he ordered. She didn’t respond, but instead moved to produce his order. He held onto her hand when she placed the glass before him. “Can I talk to you?”
“Oh, so now you want to talk?” she spat. “You wasted the last few days you should have spent doing that.”
She walked away, and half expected that after an hour he would be gone, and she would see the twenty-dollars’ tip he was accustomed to leaving. But instead he remained, and even when the rest of his men left he stayed. Even when everyone else was gone.
“I think now would be a good time to go too,” she said as she closed the cash register and locked up. “I need to get home.”