Authors: Melissa Brown
“
Oh God, I
’
m so sorry. I
’
ve been really wrapped up in myself lately, haven
’
t I?
”
She nods, her lips forming a straight line. I
’
m not going to get out of this one easily.
I sit down on the bench, looking up at her, defeated.
“
I know how much you love them and I hope you have a great time, Bree.
Seriously, I
’
m sorry. I promise I
’
m going to get my shit together and be a better friend.
”
“
Stop being so dramatic, Kate,
”
she says, exasperated, sitting down beside me on the bench.
“
I know you and Evan aren
’
t doing well, I get it. But, you know what? Jon and I are hardly ever doing well,
”
she says with a sardonic laugh,
“
but right now, we
’
re good, like really, really good. And I haven
’
t been able to tell you about it.
”
“
I
’
m sorry,
”
I say, lightly touching her shoulder.
“
Things are good?
”
I smile, hopeful for my friend.
“
Yeah, they are. But, with my luck that just means he
’
s cheating on me on the side,
”
she laughs again.
“
Wow, look at the two of us,
”
I say, looking into Bree
’
s pained face.
“
I know, I know. The two damaged barmaids,
”
Bree mutters.
“
Yep. So pathetic,
”
I say, nudging her in the arm with mine. She puts her arms around me and gives me a gentle squeeze.
“
I love you, Kate
,” s
he says softly, kissing the top of my head.
“
You deserve him, you know?
”
“
I wish I could believe that,
”
I sigh.
“
I have to go, Jon
’
s waiting. Are you going to be okay?
”
“
I think so,
”
I say, standing up and tying my apron around my waist.
“
Have fun.
”
Two hours later, I
’
m exhausted and irritated from the obnoxious Saturday night crowd. I
’
m in no mood to deal with the just-graduated assholes who
’
ve swarmed the bar tonight. They
’
re fall-down drunk already and it
’s only 9 P.M
.
I
’
ve had my ass grabbed twice and have been hit on more times than I can count. Thoroughly annoyed and almost ready to hand my keys to Vince and walk out the door.
But, I won
’
t. Instead, I stand behind the bar and continue to take drink orders with the best smile I can muster.
One of my regulars takes a seat at the bar. Fred is in his late forties, a father of four and a really nice guy. He
’
s been
a friend of
Vince
’s
since they were five years old and loves to tell me stories of the trouble they stirred
up ‘
in the old days
’
. He sits at the bar when his wife is out of town on business (which happens pretty often) and reminisces with Vince as he nurses a beer. He
’
s a nice man and I always enjoy seeing him walk through the door of Molly
’
s. He
’
s one of our few regulars whom I genuinely like.
“
Hey there, Katie
.”
He smiles widely, raising his beer to me in a friendly gesture. For the record, I never allow anyone to call me Katie. It makes me feel like I
’
m about seven years old. But, for some reason, when Fred says it, it
’
s okay with me. I actually kind of like it. But, I pretend to be annoyed when he says it so Vince and the other employees don
’
t get any ideas.
“
How are you, Freddy Boy?
”
I ask, pouring him his favorite draft. He nods in appreciation as I slide the drink his way.
“
Same old, same old. Mrs. Fred is off traveling, the kids are all doing their own thing. So, here I am.
”
“
Well, we
’
re happy to have you, as always. You know that.
”
“
I don
’
t exactly fit in here, ya know. This place is crawling with college kids
.”
I look around in disgust. He
’
s so right. I nod in agreement as I wipe down the bar.
“
How
’
s Mr. Maxwell?
”
Fred asks, taking a small sip from his beer. He
’
ll make that beer last for hours at this rate.
“
He
’
s all right
.”
I shrug.
“
He
’
s traveling, just like Mrs. Fred.
”
“
Business trip?
”
“
Yep, I miss him.
”
“
I
’
m sure you do, Katie
.”
I nod again, avoiding eye contact.
“
If you don
’
t mind my asking, you don
’
t seem yourself today. Maybe you
’
re just having an off day, but I
’
m used to you being sassy and kind of a spitfire. Today, you just seem sad,
”
Fred says in a compassionate tone. Normally
,
if someone was prying into my private life at a time like this, I
’
d blow up at them, storm away and avoid them until they left the bar. But, I can
’
t do that with Fred. He
’
s one of the kindest men I
’
ve ever met and I could never treat him like that.
“
It
’
s complicated, Fred,
”
I offer, trying to appease him with these simple words. But, I know he
’
ll push me to tell him more. Not because he
’
s dying for gossip, but because he genuinely cares. Why doesn
’
t my own father talk to me like this? Fred
’
s kids have no idea how lucky they are.
“
I
’
m not going anywhere for a while, tell me what
’
s going on
.”
His bright blue eyes pierce into mine and I don
’
t want to look away, I want to spill my guts to this acquaintance of mine.
I need to talk to someone.
“
I think Evan might break up with me.
”
“
Any particular reason or are you two just drifting apart?
”
Fred presses.
“
No, we
’
re not drifting. It
’
s, um
. . .
sorry, I
’
m not good at this,
”
I admit, looking away, scanning the crowd.
“
Talking?
”
Fred winks. He knows exactly what I mean.
“
Yeah, talking
.”
I smile.
“
I kind of have a track record with guys and it
’
s not a good one. I think it
’
s finally coming to bite me in the ass. And I don
’
t think Evan trusts me anymore
.”
In fact, I
’
m pretty sure he doesn
’
t. And it kills me.
“
Hmm, that
’
s a tough one,
”
Fred says, placing his elbow on the bar and leaning his chin into his fist.
“
Would you like some advice? I
’
ll only give it if you want to hear it
.”
I stare at him for just a moment before nodding slowly.
“
The best thing you can do is talk to him, really talk things through. And if you
’
re right and he doesn
’
t trust you, then maybe it
’
s time to walk away
.”
I wince as Fred says these words.
He takes a deep breath and co
ntinues. “
There
’
s no way a relationship can make it without trust. And I have a feeling you
’
re a girl who deserves to be trusted. If he can
’
t see that, then, well, maybe it
’
s time to move on.
”
“
I don
’
t want to move on from him, Fred
,”
I say, my brows knitted and my eyes betraying me again with goddamn tears. Thank God, I
’
m able to take a deep breath and keep them from spilling from my eyes.
“
I know. But Katie, all you can do is the best you can do, ya know?
”
Such simple words, but he
’
s right. I
’
m just not ready to admit it yet.
“
Enjoy your beer, I need to take some drink orders
.”
I smile warmly at Fred, trying so hard to hide the sadness in my eyes, but it
’
s impossible.
Walking over to a group of four college guys, I want to groan. They have t-shirts that say,
“
Flanagan
’
s House Bar Crawl
”
and they already look smashed. From the looks of them, I
’
d say we
’
re one of their last stops on the crawl. Lucky us. Assholes on parade.
“
Oooh, boys, look at this sweet piece of ass,
”
the redheaded guy with tons of freckles says. I bet he
’
s Flanagan. He looks Irish.
“
Welcome to Molly
’
s, boys. But, if you talk to me like that again, I
’
ll have your asses thrown out of here so fa
st your fucking heads will spin.”
I quickly form a giant fake smile.
“
Now, what can I getcha?
”
The boy I
’
ve deemed Flanagan looks stunned
,
with his mouth hanging open like a moron. I pass him a napkin.
“
Darlin
’
, wipe your chin; drooling doesn
’
t suit you. Now, boys, what
’
ll it be?
”
I ask, tilting my head to the side and whipping out my notepad and favorite pen that says,
“
Don
’
t fuck with your waitress.
”
“
Um, uh, four beers,
”
the tall skinny one replies, tilting his baseball cap further down to hide his eyes. He must be afraid I
’
ll release my venom on him next. But, instead of torturing them any further, I decide to let them off the hook. For now.
“
I
’
ll put that right in. Thanks
,
boys,
”
I say sarcastically and walk towards the bar. I look back at them and laugh. But, when I do, I bump directly into the man standing in front of me. Someone I
’
ve been avoiding for days. Shawn.
“
Ugh, go away, Shawn,
”
I say, rolling my eyes in disgust.