by Kelli Walker
I de-enlisted, moved back to Palo Dulce, and picked up at the bar right where he had left off. I changed the name and put a new sign up, and, sure enough, it didn’t take long until I had the place hopping with activity again. I hired some of the hottest girls in the county to wait tables and laugh at bad jokes. Sure enough, I amassed a dedicated clientele who promised me that they would keep coming back for as long as I kept the doors open for them.
I duck into Jennifer’s office, leaning down so that I don’t bash my head on the low door. She’s already sitting behind the desk, looking down at her computer with a slight frown on her face. Jennifer is a big reason that I’ve been able to keep this place ticking on for as long as I have. She's my duty manager, and she works her ass off to make sure that all the staff is as happy as they can be. She used to work in some nudie bar across the county, so she’s not squeamish about dealing with what has to be dealt with.
“What’s up?” I ask, closing the door behind me, muting the sound of the music blaring out of the jukebox next to her office.
"We’ve got a problem," she replies, letting out a sigh and shaking her head, tucking a strand of her short dark hair back behind her ear.
“What kind of problem?” I ask.
“Alana just quit,” she replies, pulling a face. “Says she wants to go back to college, and she can’t balance it with working here.”
“Shit,” I mutter, running a hand over my shaved head. “Really?”
“Yeah, really,” she replies. “So, we’re going to have to find someone else to take her place. Are you alright with me putting some feelers out and seeing what I can come up with?”
“Yeah, of course,” I say. “I trust your judgment. You’re not going to hire anyone who can’t handle all of this.”
“Damn straight,” she agrees, and she flashes me a smile. “You’ll have to cover a few shifts at the bar, though, just until we can find someone else.”
“Yeah, sure thing,” I reply. “Should I show a little skin too? You think that would help?”
“No offense, but I don’t think your clientele are here looking for men,” she laughs, and I grin back.
“Fair point,” I reply, and I crack open the door to check on how things are going out there. “Alright, I’m going to go give Martha a hand. I’ll be back later, we can talk about where we’re going to put the ad, alright?”
“Yeah, sure thing,” she calls back to me, as I step out and head over to the bar once more. Martha, one of our newer hires, is looking a little frazzled as she tries to serve drinks fast enough to keep up with the demands of the customers.
I slide behind the bar, head over to the taps, and catch the attention of a couple of guys waiting for something to drink.
“What can I get you?” I ask them, and they move in so that they can give me their orders. And, even though I know that things are going to be a little harder around here now that we’re a woman down, we’re going to find a way to figure this out. We always have before, and that’s not going to stop now. If there’s one thing that I’m good at, it’s figuring out how to navigate even the craziest of messes. And this one has problem solved written all over it.
Vanessa
I catch my breath as I move behind the counter, and then hustle my butt over to the coffee pot so that I can pour the guy opposite me another cup.
I feel like I’m the one who could use the caffeine injection right now, truth be told. I just want to duck into the back room and catch some rest for a few hours, maybe then I’ll feel like I can actually handle another midnight shift at this place.
But they hired me for a reason, and it wasn’t so that I could nap in the breakroom while nobody was looking. So, I would do well to get my ass back to work and remember just what I have been hired here to do.
“Vanessa!” Inari, the line cook, calls to me, and I look up to see her laying out a plate for me to take over to the booth opposite me. I grab it and hustle across the shiny floor to the girls who are sitting together, laughing about some story that I just catch the tail-end of.
“...Yeah, I can’t believe she quit,” one of them remarks. “You really think she can live without late-night diner runs?”
“And who do you think they’re going to get to replace her?” the other asks, cocking her head to the side. My ears prick up at once. I know that it’s none of my business, but still, I find myself curious. What are they talking about? Or, more importantly, where are they talking about?
But before I can ask, I am called back over to grab another order, and I’m left to mull over the brief second of conversation that I caught from them.
Not that it’s any of my business, not really. As far as I’m concerned, I should be happy that I have a job at all. The diner parked just outside of Palo Dulce is allowing me to cover a few shifts for one of their employees who’s visiting family on the other side of the state. It’s not much, but at least it’s going to keep my mom and me out of the gutter for a little while longer, and that’s all I care about right now.
I crash as soon as I get home, and I wake up early the next day to hear that someone else is already in the house. I peel myself out of bed, wrap myself in a robe, and head out to see who it is.
“Yeah, so, that’s our estimate,” a man’s voice announces to my mother as I round the corner and see them both standing in the hall. He is wearing a blue tracksuit, and he’s clearly here to check out the mess that our pipes have made of the floor and the roof tiles.
“It could go up or down a little from there, but it’ll be something around that,” he continues. He sounds apologetic, as though he wishes that he could give my mother a different answer. I don’t like the sound of this, not one little bit. My mother is leaning in the doorway and looks as though she might keel over with shock at any moment.
“Well, thanks for coming ‘round,” she tells him, an artificial brightness to her tone. “We’ll let you know, alright? Bye!”
She hustles him to the door before I can say a word to him, and, as soon as it is shut behind him, she sinks back against it and buries her face in her hands.
“What is it, Momma?” I ask her with concern, and she looks up at me as though she hadn’t even noticed that I was there.
“That was the repairman,” she explains. “I wanted to get an estimate, you know, figure out how much it was going to cost to get everything back where it needed to be.”
“And?”
“And he said it would be around ten grand.”
“What the hell?” I exclaim.
“Language,” she replies, an automatic reaction, but then she shakes her head. “I know, I know. I didn’t think it would be that bad, but it’s...it’s really, really too much, baby. I don’t know how we’re going to afford it.”
“Oh my God,” I gasp. I slump against the wall and shake my head. I feel like I have been hit by a truck. How can this be real? How can this be happening? This has to be some kind of joke, doesn’t it? I feel like I am going to throw up. All that money just to turn this place into somewhere livable again. It’s not fair. It’s not even close to it.
“What are we going to do?” she asks and chews her lip, staring at me as though I have all the answers. I know how she feels. I just want someone to walk through that door and tell me that everything is going to be okay, even though I know that it’s not.
“I don’t know,” I confess. There is a ringing in my ears, and I am trying to crunch the numbers inside my head, trying to work out what it might take to get everything back to normal. We have a little money coming in from Gavin. He sends it back from his tours, but that’s hardly going to cover ten grand anytime soon. Even my mom’s paycheck from the craft store and the money I’m making pulling midnight shifts at the diner is not going to come close to pay for everything.
“Shit,” I mutter, and I expect her to tell me off for my language once more, but instead, she makes her way towards me. She puts her arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug.
“We’l
l find some way to work this out,” she promises me. I know that she is as lost as I am right now, but she’s still my mother, and she still wants to do everything that she can to convince me that we are going to figure all of this out. Even though I know she has no idea what we are going to do to make it out the other side of this.
It is with the weight of that price tag on my head that I go back to the diner that evening. I try to keep a perky smile on my face, try to keep the tips rolling in, but nobody seems to be very responsive to my good attitude. I don’t want anyone to know what’s going on with me; if they find out, they might feel sorry for me, and that’s the last thing that I want right now. I have always prided myself on being able to take care of myself, on being able to look after my family, too. Just because that might be changing doesn’t mean that I want anyone else to know.
As the shift draws on, I notice the same girls from the night before coming in to get something to eat. They take a seat at the counter this time, and I listen in on their conversation. I assumed that, like so many of our late-night customers, they were eating to cover their drunkenness from a night out. Still, they seem sober as they bounce jokes off each other. Have they come from work somewhere? They were talking about someone leaving last night...
“What can I get you?” I ask them brightly, and the one with the long dark hair looks up at me with a smile on her face.
“Oh, I’d love a coffee and some eggs with toast,” she replies.
“Isn’t it a little late for coffee?” her friend teases her.
“It’s practically morning now anyway,” she protests with a giggle. “Besides, I’ve just had a long-ass shift at work. I deserve something good and greasy.”
“Where do you guys work?” I ask casually as I take their orders and get their drinks for them.
“Oh, up at The Last Call,” the dark-haired woman replies. “We’re bartenders.”
“And entertainers...”
“Hey, I don’t think that’s actually part of the contract,” she shoots back playfully.
“Oh, yeah, I know that place,” I say, furrowing my brow as I try to place it. “It used to be Harold’s, right?”
“Yeah, that’s right, but it’s under new management,” she replies, as I hand them their drinks. “That’s why we work there now.”
“Must pay well,” I remark thoughtfully. I know of that place from way back when. Gavin and Lux, his best friend from high school, had hung out there when they were too young to go drinking anywhere else. Lux’s father, Harold, had run it back in the day. It’s one of the only decent bars in town, or so I hear, and I can imagine that it’s not so hard to get the good-natured patrons on your side if you’re slinging booze instead of coffee.
“Oh, yeah, it does,” the girl replies at once. “Especially if you’re showing a little skin...”
“Martha!” the other girl squeals, but she is laughing as though she already knows that it is the truth. Martha holds her hands up.
“Hey, I’m just telling the truth,” she replies. She eyes me for a moment and then grins.
“If you’re looking for work, I bet you’d do well there,” she remarks, and I laugh.
“Wait, are you serious?” I ask, and she nods.
“You’re gorgeous,” she tells me, and I wonder if perhaps I was wrong about the two of them not being drunk at all.
“You’re sweet,” I reply. “But I don’t have any experience working at a bar...”
“Oh, they’ll train you on the job,” Martha tells me, and she suddenly sounds enthusiastic. “Hey, we just had a girl quit down there. They’re looking for someone new. And if you’re used to working the late shifts already...”
I hesitate for a moment. I know that working at a place like that might drive me a little crazy. I have never had to pull shifts somewhere that expected me to show a little skin to get what I wanted. But maybe…but maybe this was what I needed right now. To take a risk, to jump into something that I could never have imagined before. And besides, if these girls could afford to come and eat here every evening, then they had to be doing alright for themselves, didn’t they?
“I’ll tell you what, give me your number, and I’ll put you in touch with the hiring manager,” Martha suggests. I pull out a pen and a pad and scribble down my contact information for her.
“Here you go,” I reply. I doubt that anything is actually going to come of this, but I don’t give a damn. It’s worth a shot. I need to take as many chances as I can, given the chaos that’s going on in my life at the moment. I have never worked at a bar before, but maybe it’s time for a change. And it’s got to be a hell of a lot more fun than sticking it out here all night long and sleeping all through the day, right?
“Thanks,” Martha replies, and she flashes me a confident smile. “I bet you’ll get the job.”
“Well, we’ll see,” I reply. “Is there anything else I can get you, ladies?”
“No, I think we’re good,” Martha’s friend cuts in, and I notice her nudging her friend beneath the counter. I can tell that she is irritated that Martha went out of her way to get my number, but still, I don’t mind. I’m just glad that I have something else to look forward to now.
It’s not much, but it’s something. And right now, I’ll take any little something that I can get.
Lux
I do a double-take when I see her emerging from Jennifer’s office. Because there’s no way that it can be who I think it is, right?
But, sure enough, as my eyes focus and she pauses to shake Jennifer’s hand, I am sure that my eyes haven’t let me down. That’s her. That’s her. I can’t count how many years it’s been since I last saw Vanessa Meyer, but I stride over to her at once, not wanting to let this chance slip through my fingers.
Gavin’s little sister, Vanessa, was always just the sweetest kid when we were growing up. She’s a good five or six years younger than us, and she always seemed to be running around trying to catch up with the older kids every chance that she got. Back then, she’d been a little, slightly buck-toothed thing with a big-ass smile that she got self-conscious about as she got older, but these days…well, these days, she is anything but.
She is still small, but she’s curvy as hell now, that lanky teenage body finally having caught up with her. Her hair is a slightly darker shade of brown than I remember, and it’s wrapped into a tight bun at the back of her head. She smiles widely as she talks to Jennifer, and it lights up her whole face—hell, lights up the whole bar, almost. And, when she turns to leave and sees me standing there, her jaw drops, her blue-green eyes lighting up as soon as she turns her gaze to me.
“Lux!” she exclaims, and she hurries over to me and throws her arms around my shoulders. I catch her as best I can, laughing as she grabs hold of me tightly.
“Well, hey there, Van,” I greet her, and she pulls back and looks at me for a moment, shaking her head as though she can hardly believe that I am right here in front of her.
“What are you doing here?” she asks me, and I shrug.
“Well, given that I run the place, I figure it’s only fair I put in an appearance every now and then,” I reply. She cocks her head to the side.
“Wait, I thought that this place had come under new management?” she asks. “That’s what I heard, anyway...”
“Yeah, it did,” I agree. “Me. I’m the new management.”
“Oh, I had no idea!” she replies, shaking her head in surprise. “I thought your dad had sold it on, or something...”
“Nah, he’s not doing much of anything these days,” I reply. “He passed away a couple of years ago.”
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” she breathes, and she reaches out to squeeze my shoulder. “I had no idea.”
“That’s why I came back,” I explain. I don’t know why I’m telling her all of this, but I don’t feel like I can stop myself, don't feel like I want to, either.
“To run this place?” she asks, and I nod.
“Exactly,” I reply. “A
nd what exactly brings you here? Haven’t seen you in here before, and it’s not exactly normal drinking hours yet...”
“I’m actually applying for a job,” she explains, and she glances back over in the direction of Jennifer’s office. “I’m doing shifts at a diner, and I ran into a couple of the girls who work here. They said that you guys were looking for someone to cover for an employee who just left. So, I thought I would give you a call, and…well, here I am!”
Her voice seems a little higher than it might have been naturally, and I wonder if she is nervous being around me again after all this time. I am pretty sure that, when she was growing up, she’d had a little crush on me, though I doubt that it had stuck around after all this time apart.
“Here you are,” I repeat after her. “You applying for the bartending position?”
“Yeah, exactly that.”
“And you know what it entails, right?” I ask. I’m not sure that she’s someone I would have pictured being able to handle something like this, but maybe I’m just being a little too protective.
Or maybe I’m just remembering how her brother was always around her when we were growing up. And it hadn’t only been me—no, any guy who dared look at her sideways would have been on the wrong end of his fist, and I knew that he hadn’t grown out of that, even now. The thought of her working at a place like this, where the girls are expected to flirt and chat and laugh and make sure that everyone is having a good time...yeah, I doubted that he would have much good to say about that.
But then, he’s still all the way out there on the other side of the world, isn’t he? If he had that much of a problem with it, he should have been around to keep her from getting caught up with the likes of me. If she wants a job, then I’m going to make sure that she walks out of here with a job.