City in the Middle

by Colleen Green

  “Sure is,” she said. “I can’t wait for you to meet Cam.”

  “Me too!” Since he bought her a car as a present, I was curious to find out what he did for a living. “I’m surprised you didn’t mention him in your letters. They were so personal that I felt like I really got to know you by reading them. Why did you leave him out of your notes? You guys must be close.”

  “We are, but I wanted you to get to know me first. I figured you’d meet him soon after you got here.”

  “That makes sense.”

  Fiona drove us to Manhattan. The closer we got to the city, the more congested the traffic became. The flow stopped and started continually. The drivers beeped their horns in short bursts. Everyone was in a hurry, yet they couldn’t get anywhere fast. I cringed when a taxi nearly hit us as it merged into our lane. It didn’t help that accidents seemed to be happening all around. I looked down, unable to watch the commotion. My hands sweated as Fiona weaved in and out of the lanes.

  I took a deep breath and focused on the vertical architecture. Buildings lined each side of the long avenues. Retail stores and apartments were attached to one another, with no space in between. Apartments were stacked on top of restaurants. People jogged up from subway terminals and onto the sidewalks. Everyone was going somewhere, in perpetual motion. Suburban living in California was nothing like New York. It was laid-back, not a city full of people in a hurry.

  Fiona opened the door to the apartment building and lugged the suitcases up the stairs to the third floor, since it didn’t have an elevator. She opened the front door and gestured for me to enter.

  “I’ll show you your bedroom.”

  The main living area was compact, with a love seat, chair, and two small end tables. The kitchen overlooking it would be crowded for the two of us.

  Within a few steps, we were at my room. She said, “Henry took the liberty of ordering you a new dresser and nightstand. They arrived yesterday. As we discussed earlier, the bed is yours, since my old roommate left it.”

  Grateful for the new furniture, I got teary-eyed. “He’s the best. He arranged for me to be your roommate, and now this.” I nodded toward the dresser.

  “Yeah, he is.”

  After I dropped off my suitcases in my bedroom, I sat on the couch. I picked up a Chinese menu from the end table.

  “I figured you might want to order delivery.” Fiona got a soda from the fridge and held the can up. “You want one?”

  “Sure,” I replied. She got another one out and handed it over.

  “I’ll call and order us dinner if you want,” she offered.

  I gave her my order then headed to my room to unpack. My bedroom had just enough space for a bed, a nightstand, and a dresser, but it would do. My only possessions were in suitcases and those few boxes. They were full of belongings that I couldn’t live without, such as the photo in the silver frame that I removed from my suitcase. Camille, my eight-year-old niece, had given it to me for my birthday. It’s going to be hard not seeing her grow up. I put the photo on my nightstand. Isadora, Camille, and I were standing in front of my birthday cake in the photo. Next year, when I blew out my candles, I hoped to still live in Manhattan. Can I adjust to living in a city with millions of people? Time will tell.

  Chapter 2

  Two days later, Fiona and I walked to Lucky’s Pub, where I set to work my first shift that evening. Her band, Celtic Crescendo, had a gig at the pub, and Fiona invited me to eat dinner with the band before my shift started. I agreed, excited to meet the others.

  The brisk March air penetrated the jacket I wore. I shivered and planned to buy a thicker coat.

  “Amber, you’re here.” Henry greeted me when I walked in. Even though it had been less than a year since I had seen him, he looked older due to his formerly red locks being overtaken by gray. We hugged tightly, and he let go with a light rub on my shoulders.

  “I made it.” I sighed, relieved to be at my new job and taking steps toward my new life. “Fiona made sure I found my way from the apartment. Thank you so much for everything. I love my new bedroom furniture.” I beamed.

  “I’m glad you like it.” He headed to the bar area. “You can put your things in my dad’s office.”

  Walking beside him, I said, “I’m going to grab a bite to eat with Fiona before my shift starts, if you don’t mind.”

  “Sure.”

  The bar had a laid-back appeal. Customers sat, laughing, eating, and facing their friends in the bench seats. They wore jeans with polo shirts, or sweaters—there wasn’t a suit in sight.

  I followed Henry into the office. “Are you sure this is all right? I could just put my purse wherever the other waitresses put their stuff.”

  “Nonsense.” He unlocked a bottom drawer and retrieved a spare key and an apron. He handed the key to me. “Use this drawer when you’re ready. You can put your jacket on one of the racks toward the kitchen. I’ll leave your apron on the desk.”

  “Thanks.”

  “There’s a pad and pen to take orders in the apron. You’ll only be waiting tables for a few weeks. I’m sure you’d rather be cooking.”

  “It’s no problem.” I smiled.

  “John will be leaving for his new job in a couple of weeks, and then you can take over for him in the kitchen.”

  “Of course! Just like we planned.” I wondered why he was telling me things I already knew.

  “Right. I just wanted to make sure you knew we were running on schedule. I was surprised when you offered to waitress, though. I figured you’d just wait until John left to start your new job.”

  I sat down on a chair facing the desk, trying to rest my feet because I would be on them all night. “I could have, but Fiona asked if I could move in sooner. Her money was tight, and she needed help with the rent.”

  Henry sat at the desk.

  “Me moving in sooner rather than later helped her out more, so I did what she needed me to do.”

  “Still, it’s just a couple of weeks.” He shrugged. “Didn’t you have enough money in the bank to cover that? I mean, I thought you said you had more than enough money to move to Manhattan. You weren’t just saying that to make me feel better about you living in an expensive city, were you?” He raised his eyebrow.

  “No, not at all.” I shook my head. “Sure, I could have used my savings, but I’m saving my money for something big. You know, like maybe having my own apartment in the city, which would be expensive. One that’s bigger than Fiona’s place. I mean no offense to her, but I’m used to a house. Right now, I feel like I’m living in a shoebox.”

  Henry grinned. He always did appreciate my sarcastic humor.

  “I figured if I planned to get a decent-sized apartment in the city someday, then I better not touch my savings for now. When you agreed to let me waitress here, I knew I could use that money to get by for a couple weeks.”

  “Well, you certainly have it all figured out. I knew you would.” He smiled and stood up. “I should get back out there. Let me show you your section for tonight.”

  “Of course.”

  I followed him out of the office and into the main dining area. “Teresa and you can serve this section.” He motioned to Guinness beer barrels with round table tops attached to them. Four chairs were around each one. “I’ve told her you’re coming. She’ll let you know what to do.”

  “Great.”

  We headed back to Fiona and her band, who sat at a row of tables that had been pushed together to form one long one. “The soup of the day is always on the blackboard by the front door,” he explained. “Teresa will let you know when you get breaks.” He waved at a waitress coming in, and she nodded. “That’s her. She can show you how to clock in. When you’re ready to put orders into the computer system, she can help with that. I need to tell you some things later, if you get a break.” He looked at the ground briefly, his lips turning downward. “Come find me, and we can talk.”

  “Is everything all right?” I stopped a few steps short of Fi
ona’s table.

  “Yeah.” He looked at me, and I caught a hint of a smile.

  “I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done. Most of all, you’ve given me a fresh start.”

  “You’re welcome. Find Teresa when you’re ready to start your shift. We’ll talk later.” He patted my back.

  I sat down next to Fiona.

  “Guys, this is Amber, my roommate,” Fiona said.

  A chorus of “hey” came from the group of seven, who looked like they could be related, with freckles, various shades of red hair, and similar facial features.

  Fiona got up and stood behind a woman. “This is Bridget. She plays the flute, and I’ve known her since high school.” Fiona continued to the next chair, pausing behind a man. “Peter is her husband. He plays the drums. Next to him is Dan, our singer, then Claire, who plays the pipes. Across from her is Shawn, and next to him is his wife, Nora, who plays guitar. Beside her is Tonya. She plays the violin. Dan is the oldest sibling in the Casey family. Bridget, Claire, Tonya, and Nora are his younger sisters.”

  “Thanks for catching me up on everyone,” I said as Fiona smiled. I didn’t know if I would remember their names, since there were so many, but I would try. “I can’t wait to hear you play.”

  Fiona sat down next to me. “You’re going to love it. At least I hope you do!”

  “I’m sure I will,” I replied before picking up the menu. In the background, I caught snippets of Fiona’s conversation while I scanned the list of sandwiches.

  “Claire, did you know that handsome guy gave me his phone number to give to you?”

  “I saw him checking me out. Maybe I’ll call him.”

  “He’s cute.”

  “Sure is. I’ll probably have him meet the group. A casual kind of thing, you know?”

  Claire’s responses were filled with soft consonants and elongated vowels, which made a melodic rhythm that was sure to melt any man’s heart.

  The men joked with each other, speaking with Irish accents.

  “I’m still waiting for you to replace my toilet. Like an eejit, you ripped the seat clean off!” Dan said to Peter.

  “If you wouldn’t have dared me, I wouldn’t have gotten plastered and vomited!”

  “Last time I think you can handle your liquor. C’mere.”

  I looked up from the menu in time to see Dan putting Peter into a headlock. Dan smirked while he quickly rubbed Peter’s hair.

  “Get off,” Peter said, squirming. He broke free and pushed Dan.

  “Watch it!” Claire squealed, as Dan’s elbow hit her and caused her stout to spill. It landed close to her jeans. “Damn tool,” she barked, sucker punching Dan’s arm. “You wasted half my Guinness.”

  “Sorry,” he said before he kissed Claire on the cheek. “I’ll get you another one.”

  The waitress came over to us. Most of the group ordered “the usual.”

  “Sorry, guys.” I knitted my eyebrows. “I didn’t realize you got the same thing every time, or I would have placed my order sooner.”

  Nora shrugged. “No worries. Besides”—a smirk crept over her face—“we do vary it a wee bit from time to time.”

  “We do?” Bridget chimed in.

  “Yeah.” Nora nodded. “We get a different kind a beer if we’re feeling adventurous.”

  We laughed.

  The hour before my shift flew by as the band reminisced and we enjoyed a hearty dinner. Near the end of our conversation, I offered to help with their upcoming release party. Fiona said, “The more the merrier,” and I headed off to begin my first day working at the pub.

  I went to the office and put on the apron that Henry left on the desk. When I reentered the dining area, Celtic Crescendo began to gather around the stage. Fiona put her violin case on top of a barstool in the corner of the stage. She gently opened it, pulled out her instrument and bow, and began to warm up. The other members joined her. The flutist started to play scales.

  Teresa walked over my way. “Looks like you’re ready to start. Let’s get you clocked in.” After I punched my time card, Teresa showed me how to put the food orders into the computer. I watched her work until she assigned me a few tables in our section.

  “Miss, excuse me,” a lady called out. “We’re ready to order now.”

  I turned around and stepped up to her table. “Yes, ma’am, what can I get you?”

  I took their orders as an Irish lullaby played. The violin combined with the flute to create a serene sound. On the way to put the orders into the computer, I paused near the stage, enchanted by the music.

  Fiona leaned into each movement of the bow. She appeared to be living in the moment, becoming one with the music. For a few seconds, so did I.

  I felt someone tapping my shoulder. “Amber.”

  I turned around and saw a man who looked like an older version of Henry.

  “I’m Charles,” he said. “Henry’s big brother. He pointed you out to me when you arrived.”

  “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “You too.” He smiled like his brother, with a quirky grin. “Could you to do me a favor while I step out for a few minutes?”

  “Sure.” I was surprised he was asking a newbie but kind of flattered that Henry must have told him enough positive things about me that he could feel comfortable enough to ask for favors.

  “You see that table in the back with the ‘reserved’ sign?”

  I looked over and saw three men sitting there. “Yeah.” One of them, a Hispanic man, had an unusual cane with an eagle head for the handle propped up on his chair.

  “I need to follow my dad upstairs to his apartment, so I have to leave for a while. Please keep an eye on those guys and make sure they are taken care of.”

  “Will do.”

  The dinner crowd was beginning to fill the pub. Two more of my tables had customers. I walked over to them. A hand gripped my arm, causing me to stop midstride. The intense squeezing caused my breath to hitch. Turning around, I jerked free of the young man’s grasp. He was one of the men from the table Charles asked me to watch. I looked at my red arm then up at him, narrowing my eyes.

  His dark-chocolate eyes met mine. “Miss, I need a double Jameson, neat.”

  “I’ll bring it right over,” I said through clenched teeth. My other customers were looking around the pub, trying to spot their waitress. First day on the job, and this creep is screwing up my tips.

  He stepped in front of me and slid a twenty into my hand. “Please, now.” He was stunning, with high cheekbones and almond-colored skin. His blond hair reminded me of a surfer’s. He stepped over to my left side and put his hand on my shoulder. Lightly clutching it, he led me to the bar.

  I forced a smile and looked over at him. “Of course.”

  Once I called out the drink order, he released his grip and went back to his table. Who the hell does he think he is? Twenty dollars doesn’t give him the right to manhandle me.

  The bartender snarled at the basketball team on television as a player missed the final shot of the game. He mumbled—almost growled—something then huffed and shook his head. I moved to the side of the bar and tried to catch the gaze of the senior citizen who, for some reason, wanted to bartend instead of retire. Henry came over and turned him around to face me.

  “Tend to the bar, Liam,” Henry said. “Bugiardini’s table is waiting.”

  “Double Jameson, neat,” I repeated.

  Liam poured the drink. I rubbed my sore arm, trying to not think of the pain as I looked at the bottles of wine and liquor, along with an assortment of Irish-looking antiques, on the shelves behind him.

  “Are you all right?” Henry asked.

  “Yeah.” I took a deep breath, trying to release my hostility toward the asshole who caused the mark, but I couldn’t let all of it go.

  I grabbed the drink and handed Liam the twenty. “It’s on the house,” Liam explained, stepping away from the bill. I looked at Henry, and he nodded.

  I served the whiske
y to the demanding customer, who sat next to a man who looked Italian. I assumed his name was Bugiardini. Across from them was the middle-aged Hispanic man with the cane. Bugiardini ended his phone conversation just as I slammed the drink down on the table. He gave me a look of disgust. The jerk who manhandled me moved the drink over to his friend.

  I handed the twenty back to the brute. “It’s on the house. Anything else I can get you?” I offered.

  “That will be all,” Bugiardini replied.

  Relieved to be able to attend to my other customers, I walked away.

  “I put your other orders in,” Teresa said, heading toward the kitchen. “Charles shouldn’t have given you that table on your first day.”

  I followed her. “Thanks. Are they regulars?”

  “Unfortunately! They also reserve the basement for private poker parties. Finn caters to their every whim.”

  “Finn? I haven’t met him.”

  “He’s Charles’s and Henry’s dad. As far as I can tell, the name Bugiardini pulls a lot of weight around here, which is asking for trouble, if you ask me.” She rolled her eyes, picked up food, and put it on her tray.

  “Why is that?”

  “Hold on,” she said, turning to take the food to one of her tables. On her way back, she grabbed some dirty dishes from another of her tables. She did it quickly, so I waited until she returned.

  “I guess you wouldn’t know that name, since you just moved here. Henry gave me a heads-up that you’re a newbie to the city.” I followed her to the kitchen, where she put the dirty dishes down. She leaned over to me and said, “They are not exactly upstanding citizens. Look them up on the internet sometime.”

  I planned to do that later. How could I not? My curiosity was piqued. I handed her a napkin. “Write the name on this.” I knew I wouldn’t spell it right unless I asked.

  She jotted it down and handed it over.

  “Thanks,” I said, putting it in my pocket.

  I attended to my customers. The bar got busier as the night progressed. Liam had help from another bartender to keep up with the crowd. At eleven, the kitchen closed.