Holding On To Love (5 page)

Zac was nineteen when she died, he promised to stay in our childhood home so I could finish high school. He got a full time job at a music store to help pay the bills, thankfully for us, my mother had taken out a life insurance policy long before she was diagnosed. So, we didn't have to worry too much since the mortgage was paid-off and the insurance money allowed us to live comfortably while I finished school. As soon as I left for college, Zac put our childhood home up for sale. The house sold within two weeks and after closing costs and a few other expenses,  he deposited a check in my account for $218,000. With the money from my mother's house, I bought the townhouse and had a little more than $95,000 still in savings.

Once I graduated high school, Zac disappeared to seek out his dream of joining a punk band. He moved in with a few friends in San Diego, took up guitar lessons and failed miserably. He finally found his niche playing the bass.

He and his best friend, Alex started their band the summer I left for college and have been picking up gigs here and there ever since. They've been playing mostly 80's rock covers and have some original music, but bars and clubs weren't willing to pay a band they'd never heard of to play their own music. But a band that could belt out 'Sweet Child O Mine' as well as, if not better than Axel Rose, was golden. It had been almost a year since I'd seen Zac or his band, I was eager to catch up with my big brother.

It was just past six, when Kennedy and I walked into Epic. Kennedy had done some research on the way over and discovered it had only been open a few months. By the look and smell of the place as we walked through the door, you would have never guessed it was still new. The sizable brick walls were lined with framed Irish soccer team's jerseys, a few hockey jerseys from our local hockey team and vintage Guinness ads. Music blared from the speakers placed sporadically around the building. Flat screen televisions hung from every corner, there were even a few over the bar in the center of the pub. Behind the bar, I spotted a large stage that reminded me of one you'd see at a burlesque show; two large black velvet curtains hung against the back wall and were up-lit by four neon-blue lights. The ceilings were strewn with steel ducting, lights and fans. The scent of stale beer stung my nostrils and I felt my stomach churn again.

I spotted the band hauling equipment to the side of the stage. Chris, their drummer, and Alex, were busy unloading the drum kit and amplifiers, but I couldn't see Zac anywhere.

"Come on Kennedy, let's go find Zac," I said, walking toward the stage. Kennedy followed close.

"This place is huge. They've got pool tables in the next room," she said, pointing over her shoulder towards an archway next to the bar.

I was suddenly knocked off balance by a hard hit to my hip, "Hey sis!" Zac stood beside me with an innocent look on his face.

"You just hip checked me, jerk!" I yelled, pushing him back with all of my strength. He only moved about an inch.

"Missed you too little sister," He chuckled, grabbing me by both arms, pulling me in for a bear hug.

I grunted when he squeezed me, "Zaaac! I-I-can't breathe."

He held me for another second, then released me. He took a step back and looked me over, "You look good, sis. How've you been?"

I smiled, "Thanks. I'm good. You know, same ole shit different day." I said sarcastically, tossing my hands in the air.

"Yeah, I know what you mean." A goofy grin crept across his face when he saw Kennedy, "Hey Skittles." I laughed at his nickname for Kennedy. In high school, she use to hoard the colorful candy by the bag full and keep them hidden in her locker. At one point in time, I think she had over a hundred of them, one morning she opened her locker and the bags came pouring out at her feet. Zac just stood there and laughed as she struggled to pick them all up.

She reached up, put her arms around him and smiled. "Hey yourself, you know I hate that name."

"Nah— I know you secretly like it." He said winking. "You guys gonna stick around and watch us play? We're up at seven." He asked, wrapping an arm around Kennedy's waist.

"Where can we sit?" I asked, ignoring my brother's wandering hand.

He pointed and walked us back to a table next to the stage with a reserved plaque propped in the middle, "This one's reserved for VIPs', but I'll see what I can do, since you
are
family." He said, winking. "I've gotta go unload the van. I'll see you guys in a bit."

He waved over his shoulder and disappeared through the swinging doors next to the stage.

"Bye," we both said in unison, waving back.

"Do you want a drink?" Kennedy asked.

I cringed at the thought of more alcohol, "Uh-No, thanks. I'm still not feeling all that great."

Kennedy smiled and got up from her chair, "Fine, suit yourself. I'll be at the bar getting a beer if you change your mind." She sauntered off, swaying her hips as she walked toward the bar.

I watched as Kennedy procured two beers and a shot without even batting an eyelash. The bartender was putty in her hands. I laughed to myself. Crazy girl. I fished my phone out of my purse, checked my messages and of course there weren't any. The only texts or voicemails were usually from Kennedy. My own brother didn't even text me anymore. I huffed and shoved the phone into the side pocket.

The pub was beginning to fill up. Most of the tables around us were occupied and the stools around the bar were crammed with people. Noise grew as friends found one another, chatting and high-fiving each other. I lost track of Kennedy's whereabouts, but I assumed she had found another unsuspecting male to fall victim to her charms. Sometimes I wished I could walk in her shoes for just one day. Somehow on a daily basis, she manages to strike up conversations with total strangers, everyone was always taken back by Kennedy's 'I don't give a fuck' demeanor. I would say I'm jealous, but I kind of liked being a wallflower. I don't have to deal with guy-drama or worry that I may have said the wrong thing to some total stranger. Kennedy has told me a few times, that I don't have a filter on my thoughts. You could say, I speak my mind most of the time. I usually find myself biting off more than I can chew once I get going. I've been involved in full fledged arguments over the pettiest things, like paying $7 for a cup of coffee. It's just plain silly.

I was raised to save my money, every birthday check or any Christmas money I got, all went into my piggy bank. By the time I turned thirteen I had over two hundred dollars. My mother opened a savings account for me and I've put $50 a week in that account since I was thirteen. With the money left from the sale of the house and my savings, I haven't had to worry too much about finances. I've only had three jobs my entire life. In high school, I worked after school at an ice cream shop. Then in college, I was lucky enough to get hired on as a paid intern with the local newspaper my freshman year. Last year, I landed my dream job as a freelance writer for 'GO! Arizona Magazine'. I write a column called, "The Two Day Getaway". It's a budget friendly guide to finding hidden gems within the Arizona state lines.

"Sorry that took me so long," Kennedy said resting her beer on the table. "I seriously ran into like four people from high school. It was awful."

"Like who?" I asked, not that I was the least bit interested in anything anyone was doing from our high school.

"Oh— You remember Megan, right? The chubby girl with red hair from our Algebra class?"

I tapped my finger on the table and nodded, "Yeah...I guess so." I had no idea who she was referring to.

"Well, she's not fat anymore. She said she lost 100 pounds after she had her daughter. And get this, her daughter turns six this year. Crazy right?" 

"God, that makes me feel old." I said leaning my forehead into my palm.

"Oh— Shut up. You are not old. Just because we didn't settle down and pop out a couple of kids the moment we graduated, doesn't mean we're doomed or anything. We've had fun, haven't we?" She said lightly punching my arm and I shrugged.

Maybe that is the "perfect" life I always dreamed for myself. The fairytale wedding, the extravagant honeymoon in Bora Bora, two kids- a boy and a girl, a white house with red shutters and a wrap around deck overlooking the beach. I had it all in the palm of my hand at one time. I could almost smell the sea breeze and feel the sand between my toes, but sometimes the universe is unforgiving and just like that, it can all be taken away. I felt tears threaten to ruin my night of fun and forgetting. I would not let my past ruin my night. I refused.

I took a deep breath and forced a smile. "I think I will get a drink after all." I said sounding more harsh than necessary.

Kennedy looked at me and I could see pity in her eyes, "You alright, Al?"

"Yeah...good...just changed my mind about drinking after all. You want another one?" I asked, trying to sound a little less like being on the verge of crying my eyes out. 

"Sure. Same." She said, holding her bottle up. "You sure you're okay?"

I nodded, ignoring her question and headed toward the bar. I inhaled deeply as I walked and shook my head. I shimmied in between a couple of older men who looked like they'd both worked a long day at the office and desperately needed a strong drink.

"Excuse me." I said leaning my shoulder through the gap between them.

Neither said a word, they just shifted in their seats to give me enough room to get up to the bar.

"Thank you," I said to the gray haired man on my left.

He picked up his glass and downed the remaining liquid, "Welcome, honey." He said in a raspy voice, like he had smoked two packs of cigarettes a day his entire life.

The bartender rounded the corner with an empty glass in his hand. He slid a paper coaster in front of me and smiled, "What can I get ya?"

He had short spiky almost-black hair and light stubble on his chin to match. I noticed he had a few freckles spotted along his cheeks and beautiful pale blue eyes.  

"I need another light beer for my friend and I'll have a double tall rum and coke, please." I said smiling.

"Sure. Comin' right up," he said reaching into the cooler for the beer. He popped the top off and set it in front of me. "I've got clean glasses coming out of the wash in a minute. Can I bring your drink to you?"

I nodded.

"Where you sittin'?" He asked.

"My brother's in the band, so we've got the table next to the stage...uh...over there," I said pointing to where Kennedy was seated.

"Well, shit. Why didn't you say so?" He chuckled. "Which one's your brother?"

"Zac. He plays the bass," I said.

"Well these are on the house then," he said smiling widely.

"Thanks, I appreciate that, but it's really not necessary. I can pay for them," I said.

If it was at all possible, he smile grew even wider and he started laughing, "Nonsense. These and any other drinks you have tonight are on me."

"But—" I began to protest before he cut me off, "No arguing," he said waving his finger back and forth in front of me.

"Okay..." I said shaking my head. "If you say so."

"My name's Finnegan, by the way. My friends call me Finn," he said reaching his hand out to me, winking. I sensed a hint of an accent in his deep, raspy voice. Irish maybe, but it sounded as if he'd lived his entire life in the states.  

I took his hand in mine. "Ally. Nice to meet you, Finn." I smiled.

"Nice to meet you, Ally. The band's about ready to go on, you better get back to your friend," he said pointing at Kennedy.

"Thanks, Finn," I said picking up the beer.

The pub was packed with people. I nudged my way through the sea of sweaty bodies, but not before being elbowed in the boob twice and having some girl's stiletto almost amputate my pinky toe. A spot cleared next to our table and I rushed through before I narrowly missed being knocked over by a shirtless frat boy who was chanting something ridiculous and chugging beer straight from the pitcher.

"Holy shit! This is insane!" I shouted, slamming Kennedy's beer on the table.

"I know right? Thanks for the beer, friend." She smiled and took a swig. "Where's yours?"

"Finn, the bartender, said he'd bring it out. Oh— and our drinks are free all night."

The noise levels were growing and I thought to myself that the pub was mostly likely at capacity now.

"What?" She shouted and leaned over the table to me as I sat.

"Free drinks. All night," I said almost shouting.

"Awesome. How the hell did you manage that?" She asked, smirking.

"I told Finn— The bartender— That Zac was my brother," I said proudly, feeling like I'd conquered Mount Everest.  

"You are a fucking rock star, Ally," she said tipping her beer towards me.

A moment later, Finn appeared with my rum and coke in hand.

"Here you go, Ally." He said as he set the glass on the table.

I smiled up at him and said, "Thanks Finn."

"No problem. If you need anything else, Amy will be around." He said pointing at the tiny brunette waitress who was leaning against the far end of the bar, chewing on the end of her pen. "Just give her a wave. You ladies need anything else while I'm here?"

"Yeah. Hey Finn— this is my best friend Kennedy," I said nudging Kennedy with my elbow.

She smiled and said, "Hi Finn, it's really nice to meet you. Thank you for the drinks too."

"Sure, anytime. You ladies enjoy the show," he said as he turned and walked back to the bar.

I raised my glass, "Cheers to new friends and free drinks, " I said clinking my glass against Kennedy's beer.

"Cheers," she said happily.

A tall, broad shouldered, dark figure appeared on the dark stage. He reached for the microphone stand, tapped the top of the microphone and it whined loudly. The noise of the crowd quieted and all heads turned toward the stage.

"Ahem..." He said, clearing his throat. "Uh...Danny— I need light, please." He said and low ambient light filled the stage, still making it impossible to see the man clearly. "Ah— that's better... And how is everyone doing tonight?" He asked, the anxious crowd whistled and clapped in response.

"Good...good. Glad to see you all came out tonight." His deep voice boomed through the speakers. "Welcome to Epic. For those of you who may not know. I'm Brody McCabe."

More whistles and this time a group of college girls shouted in unison, "We love you, Brody!"