Inky (3 page)

“Oh my God, Evan.” I laughed wiping my lips. There was sand in my mouth and who knows where else but it was totally worth it.

“That was fucking great, baby.” He said pulling my hair from the side of my face.

“I love the beach.” It was all I could manage to say between a gasping laugh.

“I love you.” He hand brushed my jaw sweetly.

He always one-upped me.

Chapter 3

It was another glorious Friday afternoon at Rusty’s. I set a cardboard coaster down and gave Dean a fresh Bud.

“Thanks, Inky-girl.” He slid a five across the bar to me. “Keep the change.”

I served this man every Friday afternoon. He was there from the beginning of my shift until the bar started to pick up around seven. What I knew of him was that he was divorced; it was ugly, she took the kids and hadn’t seen them since. He was also an alcoholic but I suspected that habit was a result of his divorce, not a cause.

“How about next time you’re here and I’m off the clock, you buy me a Bud, Dean?”

“You’ve got yourself a date.” He took a sip and gave a little satisfied sigh. “Hey, Ink? Come on over here a minute…” I moved close to him and saw the deep creases around his eyes. Somewhere in his forties, he had a thick build and a handsome face. Unfortunately, I also noticed that his eyes were dull and lacked the sparkle he had not a month before. He was getting worse. I wasn’t new to this but it made me sad all the same. It was the one thing about my job I hated; I was an enabler.

I could argue that everyone has to work and if I wasn’t doing it making great money, someone else would and that person might not be as compassionate as me. In the meantime, I would try to say something subtle if I had the chance. It was none of my business but every now and then, I did it anyway.

“What’s going on, Dean?”

“What’s up with Lisa?” He asked.

She’d been slamming things around and stomping through our house for weeks now. It was driving me crazy that she wouldn’t open up to me and Aimes. I decided then and there that I had to try and talk to her or at least make her aware that if customers are noticing, our boss was going to notice. Rusty was cool. He would happily let you cry on his shoulder, but he hated drama spilling into the bar.

“I’m not sure, but I’ll get to the bottom of it. Don’t worry, Dean.” I smiled and made sure he got a bright one that touched my eyes so he’d know I meant it. “Say, Dean?”

“Yeah, Inky?” He took another sip of his beer.

“Have you been able to see the kids?”

I watched him run his finger down the label on the bottle, skimming the condensation. “Denise says they’re happy with their stepdad, they don’t even miss me. She doesn’t even want child support from me. She just wants to play happy families with this guy. He’s a dentist. A damned dentist. I’m blue collar but I make decent money, I always took on odd jobs too, still do, just so I could give her and the kids anything they wanted. I know you’re engaged to Evan, girl and I’m happy for you, but I have a piece of advice to give if that’s okay with you?”

“Shoot, Dean.” I shifted my body so he had my full attention.

“People change. It can happen quickly or it can happen slowly but it happens. Your job is to see it, recognize it. You gotta talk to each other. You might love blueberry pie, think it’s the best fuckin’ food on earth. Then one day, you decide you want to try lemon meringue. But your husband, he still thinks you like blueberry and he keeps giving you blueberry every year for your birthday thinking he’s doing the right thing. Your job is to tell him you want to try something different and his job is to ask if you still like it and it goes both ways. She stopped liking blueberry pie a long time ago, Inky. Maybe if I’d asked, maybe if I hadn’t worked long hours, I’d have noticed. So, that’s my advice.”

“Communication.” I stated.

“That’s exactly right.”

“Your kids wanna see you, Dean. She probably doesn’t want to but I’d bet you…I’d bet you a painting, they miss you like crazy.”

“Ink, are you getting that case of Rolling Rock or do you want me to do it?” Lisa asked, all snippy.

“Let me know what you want me to paint, Dean. It’s a bet I know I’m gonna lose.” I gave him a wink and made my way down the bar toward my bad-mood roommate.

“Lisa, what the hell?” I asked quietly. “I’ve got customers asking me if you’re alright. So, are you alright?”

She stopped moving around bottles as she dusted the tiered wood shelves that held our top shelf liquor. “Yeah,” she let out a deep breath. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

I decided to just put it out there.

“Lisa, you know you’re all kinds of crazy beautiful. Like, it’s unfair how beautiful you are. Whatever this guy is doing, I can guarantee you another one ten times better is going to snap you right up if you give him the chance. I know that probably doesn’t make you feel better but I’ve been holding back saying anything.”

“Yeah. Okay.” She said and quickly changed the subject. “So you want to bring up that case of Rolling Rock or do you want me to do it?”

“I’m happy to do it.” I walked away, not surprised. As usual, Lisa gave me nothing. I’d have to be sure to put that in the tell Aimes later pile in my head.

I returned to Lisa who was now stocking the condiment trays. She had just rinsed a bowl of limes and laid down a cutting board when a dark haired man sat down in my section of the bar. This time of day was a free for all but it seemed like Lisa needed the solitude of manual labor.

“What can I get for you?” I took a little towel from behind the bar and wiped a ring left by a glass. “Sir?” I looked up and saw eyes I could only describe as autumn; golden, green, all the colors of fall… they were beautiful. He lifted his chin, his tanned face framed by dark brown bangs that were too long, falling onto his forehead.

“Scotch, I guess.”

“Coming right up.”

I made his drink and set it down in front of him, noting that he was contemplating something. My guess was a broken heart. I let him be and went about the task of cutting fruit alongside my silent partner. Suddenly, she surprised me with conversation.

“So, how did he do it?”

“Do what?” I asked.

“Evan. How did he propose?”

“How do you not know this story, Lisa? This is prime bar gossip?”

“I know you dated for like, two weeks, and then bam you were engaged.” She stabbed a lime on the
bam
.

“Well, it was more like two months but yeah, it was pretty quick, I guess.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as I indulged her with an explanation. I’d had so much flak about our quick engagement but I really didn’t care. I had wanted to be with him for so long, I didn’t hesitate for a single minute. I set down my little knife and took a sip of my cherry coke. “Well, you know the night that Gerry showed up? He’d only broken up with me a week before that but he was practically having sex with that Jess girl next to the stage. I mean, I knew it wasn’t going to last but still, it did sting a little to see how easily replaced I was after a year.” I didn’t mention that I was a total hypocrite for saying that, Lord knows all Evan had to do was snap his fingers and I was there. “I guess Evan had been watching the whole thing. After I cashed out my drawer, he asked if I wanted to go to the beach. And you know he and I have always had this sort of…casual thing (meaning I was his booty call but we had customers so I didn’t clarify).

It was two in the morning but he said there was a meteor shower that night and no moon, so it was perfect for sky watching. We bought coffee and donuts and saw a few shooting stars. Then the sun started to come up and he pulled me in next to him and said, ‘I think we should do this again in about fifty years.’

I was like, ‘Fifty years? You’ll probably be living in a rock star mansion in Malibu with your fourth wife and I’ll probably be dead from all the paint fumes I’ve inhaled over the years. Not to mention I’m planning on drinking heavily as any decent artist should aspire to.’”

I heard Dean laugh when I delivered that line.

“I thought I was hilarious. But he wasn’t laughing. So I said,

‘Geez, you’re a tough crowd.’ But he didn’t respond. After what seemed like hours, he pushed me away so he could look me in the face and said,

‘No, not my fourth wife, Ink, my first wife. The one I watched the meteor shower with on the beach that one time and then watched the sun rise.’”

Sigh.

“I thought he was joking at first so I started to laugh but he didn’t. He just kept looking at me. Of course, I got all awkward and started to panic. So I stood up but he pulled me back down and said, ‘Seriously, Ink. You and me.’ Needless to say I was, well, pretty damn happy and have been ever since. We went on an actual date last month and that’s that.”

“Have you set a date?” Lisa asked, wiping lime juice from the bar.

“Next year during the Geminids meteor shower. It seemed appropriate. Although it doesn’t peak until 2am, so I think we’ll have to serve espresso instead of cocktails if people want to stay and watch it.”

My Scotch-drinking, sad-eyed customer asked, “Do you know why they call it that, Ink?” His voice low and smooth slid over my name but I didn’t know him.

“Actually I don’t. Why?”

“It happens in the constellation of Gemini. It’s the same for all meteor showers. The Orionids occur in Orion and so on. Really it’s the radiant; the star or constellation where it originates from.” He contemplated what he’d said for a moment, then continued. “I’m pretty sure that’s right.”

“Thanks for telling me that. Do you study Astronomy?” I asked politely.

“No, just a man…or I was until my wife left and took my balls with her.” He stopped again and looked forward, taking a sip from his drink. He turned his head to look at me, “Sorry, having a bad day.”

Well. That certainly stopped my happy little tale dead in its tracks.

“Are you by chance a Tammy Wynette fan?” I asked.

“Not that I know of. Why?’’

“When I asked you if you were an astronomer you answered, ‘Just a man.’ It’s a lyric in one of her songs.” And incidentally, it was the very song I sang at karaoke not long ago. He didn’t have a response to my little country music trivia. Instead he just stared at me for a while. I broke the stare-down and cleared Dean’s empty Bud and gave him another.

We were all stocked up and waiting for the after-work crowd. I leaned back and threw a few more cherries in my coke. Lisa went off to fix her makeup while my previous audience of Dean and a woman whose name I could not remember went back to whatever it was they were doing before I told my sappy story. I couldn’t help but move down the bar to this poor guy. I busied myself washing one glass very slowly, trying to be casual while I topped up the garnish trays unnecessarily. When his drink was empty, I came back with a bottle of top shelf scotch.

“This one’s on me, friend. Sounds like you’re having a bad day.” He looked at the glass and nodded in appreciation, never looking up and took a sip.

“I’m not much of a drinker really,” he started, “maybe a beer or two at night.” he said softly. “I just started to drive down the coast and then stopped to have a drink because that’s what I think you do in this situation. I mean, I’m not really sure. It’s not like they give you a pamphlet when you get married that says, ‘in case things don’t work out’ or even better than that, ‘in case you’re a total and complete idiot’ which incidentally they should have in a place like Vegas.” I turned and put the bottle back on the shelf behind me. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sure you and your fiancé will be very happy. You’re off to a good start. He’s pretty romantic.” He said taking a sip.

It took a lot of doing to get to this point in my relationship with Evan. I’d cried my fair share of tears over him and everybody knew it. I’d watched him come out with his friends and pick up some random girl and leave with her, always wondering what was so wrong with me? I’d long for those times when he’d sit at my part of the bar and keep me company through my shift. He’d eventually ask where my boyfriend was that night and if the boyfriend wasn’t around, he’d offer to drive me home and one thing
always
led to another. It was sneaky and I shouldn’t have done it. That much I knew. The guilt was sometimes a bit overwhelming but I was all about not getting too close to anyone. I had a select group of people who really knew me, knew my past, and knew my quirks. Among my confidants were Rusty, Aimes, the gallery manager, Abe and my tattoo guy, Nico. That was plenty. I wanted to appear confident and tried not to let Evan see that what he was doing with me actually broke my heart. Aimes couldn’t believe the situation I’d gotten myself into.

Gerry, my most recent boyfriend finally asked me where the relationship was heading. One of those
where do you see us in five years?
sort of things and he didn’t like my answer. I felt like I wanted to tell this stranger sitting at the bar all about it. I wanted to open up my past and let him in and maybe give him some hope of his own. If I found someone, he could too.

I poured myself a fresh coke with a hefty dose of cherries and the delicious syrup they come in. I leaned on the shelf behind me and took a sip before I spoke to him,

“Hey,” I said to get his attention. “This little romance I have going on didn’t exactly happen overnight. I waited for him for over three years.” He seemed to take in my words and think about them for a minute.

“But you had someone else, right? Someone to distract you until he was ready for you?” He stared right at me. He was so intense I wanted to look away but his beautiful eyes wouldn’t let me.

I did
not
expect that response. “Well, yeah, I did. Not on purpose. I just never thought he’d want someone like me. And my ex ended things with me, not the other way around.”

“Someone like you?” What does that mean?” he inquired.

Wow, okay Mr. Nosy Pants. It means I think I’m done sharing.

“It means story time has come to an end.” I had a pretty thick skin but something about this guy got right under it and burrowed there. I had a delicate balance going on in my little world and somehow, for some reason I couldn’t quite put my finger on, this guy knew exactly what to say to upset that.